Bonding
by asouldreams
Summary: Morning twilight; a starlit sky; to have you; to hold you; to love you; forever...bound. As darkness rises, friendships are tested, allegiances made & love is re-discovered & lost; set during Hogwarts yr 2009-10. A friendship that turns into so much more. Hermione/Minerva. Remains canon compliant through books not Pottermore. Harry, Ginny, Ron, includes most characters from books
1. Prologue June 7, 1997

_Bonding_

Morning twilight …

A starlit sky…

To have you…

To hold you…

To love you…

Forever…

Bound.

**Prologue ~ June 7, 1997 ~ End of Half Blood Prince (1 year prior to the Deathly Hallows)**

Minerva felt as though a hole had been carved through her chest to the bowels of her soul…her legs crumbling beneath her…as her magic pulsed…her breath leaving her lungs as tears slipped down her cheeks. _He was dead._

She could feel his death rippling through her body…spreading like a virus…withering all that it touched…draining…pulling her away as death began to seep into her bones…

Minerva could hear fighting down the hall…_Death Eaters_…she mused as she fell backwards…back striking the hard stone…knocking the last of the wind from her lungs as she slid down the stone wall. Her fingers becoming lax, wand clattering to the floor…her eyes closing…as her own death came swiftly upon her…

Only to have a blinding flash burn through her fingers, veins, bones, to her soul…staunching the flow of death and sweeping through her body…rebuilding, regenerating… severing and subsequently replacing an eternal bond…helping as she had unselfishly helped before.

And then Minerva McGonagall did the unthinkable…

She took in another breath…

And another …as she blinked open her eyes and gazed about. Her first thought was in wonderment that she was alive…and then she felt tears burning in her eyes at the sudden emptiness that now existed within her, save for a subtle purr humming through her...and before she could give it another moment's thought, a student rounded the corner. Even from this distance, she could see the fear blanketing the face as two wizards pursued and at once, she was standing, wand snapping into her fingers, the feel of the ebony wood caressing her skin...and her arm moved in a sweeping arc…her magic coursing through her in a melodious yet asymmetrical way…and then two wizards jerked to a bone riddling stop…And she turned to see relief evident in the chocolate brown eyes now staring up at her for her timely intervention.

"Thanks…" Hermione gulped in another breath of air, "Professor. What spell did you cast? I've never seen anything remotely like that." Hermione questioned momentarily peering at the unconscious death eaters, wondering what could possibly cause them to collapse as though the floors had swallowed them whole. After a heartbeat, Hermione turned back to her professor, expecting to hear the familiar Scottish burr giving an explanation…and was at an utter loss for words…at the hollow woman before her. Gone was the rose hue from her skin, the prideful stance…the fire burning within her emerald eyes...

Two streaks of tears could be seen drying on McGonagall's cheeks…and Hermione found herself tentatively reaching outward. "Professor…" She stated as the tips of her fingers gently came into contact with the thick silken outer robe. "Minerva." She reiterated wrapping her hand around the elder witch's forearm. "Are you alright?"

Instantly as soon as her hand touched Minerva's arm, Hermione could feel a gentle thrum of magic tingle against her fingers…

The subtle purr suddenly pulsed through Minerva…drowning out the overwhelming…soul wrenching ache…soothing the shards of the shattered bond…mending an irreparable hole…

The effect was electric…

…and Minerva jerked her arm away from Hermione. Emerald eyes were suddenly peering down at Hermione as if truly seeing her for the first time. "Are you injured, Miss Granger?" She asked, her eyes sweeping over her form and then darting to the two death eaters twenty feet away.

Hermione shook her head, "No, Professor. But are you?"

Minerva quirked her eyebrow as she glanced back at the young witch, _she was anything but alright,_ she thought. "Nothing I won't live through, Hermione." _Whether I chose to or not._ She finished silently, and before she could ascertain what had happened…and why she was indeed alive, Minerva felt an unsettling feeling course through her…and she found herself speaking the words without thought. "Come…we need to get to Entry Hall at once." She stated and then in flurry of black and emerald robes strode away.

Hermione starred after her professor for a long moment, wondering what in Merlin's name had just happened…and then she heard a series of shouts, curses, and hexes… At once, Hermione set after the Deputy Headmistress intent on asking her Professor what happened as soon as time allowed, but five minutes later…the world changed, and her question was forgotten…

For the greatest wizard of the age, the revered Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore had died.

_A/N: Please read – _

_This was originally started because of the Hermione's Big Bang Challenge, but do to the size and length it is going to be slowly uploaded here as the word count is already four times larger than the minimum amount and still growing…and growing…_

_The time table for all but the prologue and first chapter will happen during the 2009-2010 Hogwarts school year. Each chapter will constitute one day._

_Regarding characters; we will see many original characters and some additional ones that have joined the story. Original characters include; Minerva, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, George, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Ron, Molly & Arthur Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Aberforth, Hagrid, Kingsley Shacklebolt and several others. _

_This story will contain themes of Albus & Minerva; Ron & Hermione; and ultimately Minerva & Hermione as the story progresses. Overall, it generally follows canon through the seven books and after; including Hermione's children. It's a drama/friendship/romance/humor/angst/action…and more story rolled into one._

_Lastly ~ Buckle your seatbelts…enjoy the ride and thank you in advance for taking the time to read this story and if you so chose, leaving a review._


	2. Chapter 1 June 21, 2004

**Chapter 1 ~ 6 years after Deathly Hollows ~ June 21****st**** 2004**

Hermione forced a smile on her face as she took the flute of champagne from Ron, "Thank you." She whispered.

"You 'kay?" He asked, leaning a bit closer.

Hermione nodded, the look in her eyes speaking otherwise. "Just a bit tired." She replied.

"Hey Ron!" Seamus's distinct brogue cutting through the air as they both turned. "Hermione." He nodded towards her before grasping her husband's hand. After several minutes of trying to follow the conversation involving the Chuddly Cannons between Ron and Seamus, Hermione turned slightly to the side. The back of her right shoulder resting along Ron's back. Her gaze wandering over the sea of people milling through the Ministry's Atrium, wondering where her sister-in-law, Ginny was.

She could see Molly and Arthur talking with Kingsley…Draco's head was tipped back in laughter, a chord of his rich voice could be heard despite the distance, as he spoke with a maroon robed person obscured from view…Pomona Sprout along with Filius Flitwick were in a heated conversation with the stately Helena Harrison, the Administrator of St. Mungos and her husband, Harold. Harold's robes were a deep crimson red with silver stars and piping…that seemed to augment his lean stature, peppering hair and worldly eyes encased behind paper-thin silver frames. Helena wore a matching colored dress, an outer sheath draped over her shoulders, her face alight with joy. Despite her height, she had relatively broad shoulders…that her blond hair fell carelessly against.

Her eyes stayed momentarily on her old professors, Filius' silver robes with feint sage piping along the hem lines; whereas Pomona wore unusually crisp sage robes with silver piping…and she wondered if they were indeed a couple. She, Ron, Harry and Ginny had often speculated on the personal lives of the Hogwarts professors; and as her eyes continued gazing at both Flitwick and Sprout, she was memorized by how well they knew each other. Her rationale mind countering that they spent over 9 months a year together, surely that was part of it. No different than Albus and…

"You should ask them, Mrs. Weasley." Mirth lining the distinct Scottish lilt.

A smile spread across Hermione's face as she turned to the voice. "I would Professor," She replied, eyes sweeping across the elegant form of none other than her old mentor Minerva McGonagall. "But it seems…intrusive."

The corner of Minerva's mouth quirked upwards, "Minerva, please. And…" The elder woman's gaze momentarily flickered to her colleagues, "They have been married for over thirty years, Hermione." Minerva kept talking despite the look of utter shock that spread across Hermione's face. "Their wedding was beautiful…a spring day along the south isles," A gentle almost wispy smile graced Minerva's face, "They had two children…" At that point she turned to look fully at Hermione, her emerald eyes momentarily capturing the younger witch's brown ones with a rush of emotion. "Not intrusive, Hermione. It's their life." And then she blinked; the pools of green within her eyes had already returned to their normal, intense yet disturbingly non-emotional state as her eyes swept over the younger witch. "And you, it seems married life agrees with you?"

"Yes." Hermione replied automatically, despite the recent spats with her husband. "Quite." Her eyes sweeping over the Headmistress who had shed her traditional emerald robes for an elegant black evening gown with a modest neckline that swept flowingly to the floor and was held up by two spaghetti straps along her collarbone. A fine silver omega chain with a crystalline blue tear shaped stone and matching earrings glistened against the light. Her hair hung in a loose French twist, a few stray strands caressing her cheeks, lighting up her face, which Hermione now realized did not have her rectangular glasses perched on her nose.

"And how is Rose?" Minerva asked, briefly noting Ron and Seamus' quidditch conversation before returning her full attention to the young witch before her. Minerva did not know what had occurred since she had last seen Hermione, but whatever had happened, she had matured considerably since the last Weasley gathering, just over a year ago. It showed in her deep brown eyes. Minerva watched as Hermione's face lit up as she began speaking about her daughter.

"Growing like a weed. I can't believe she's almost one." Hermione stated, "It's utterly amazing." She paused, "And again, thank you for Rose's furniture, it is – you spent far too much." Hermione continued on, blushing. "It would have cost nearly half of a year's wages."

"I assure you Hermione, I would not have purchased it if I could not afford it."

Hermione blanched, thinking she had somehow offended her mentor. "I didn't mean…"

A warm smile lighting Minerva's face, "You are fine, and I am glad that it has served a purpose."

Relief flooded Hermione's face, "Well, thank you. It was extremely thoughtful."

"As I said prior, you are quite welcome, Hermione." She said, and was about to ask further into Rose's well being but stopped when she felt a hand graze her upper arm followed by a deep baritone voice.

"Ahhh…Minerva." Kingsley stepped around Minerva. "You look breathtaking as ever." He leaned over gently kissing the side of her cheek before straightening up and turning to Hermione and briefly bowing his head. "Hermione, a pleasure as always."

"Kingsley." Minerva smiled, and Hermione noticed that the lilt in her voice more pronounced than usual as she continued speaking. "The Atrium looks lovely this evening."

"They did a splendid job." He concurred, and before either witch could interject his face turned solemn. "I am afraid that I need to steal you away from this enchanting evening, Headmistress." He stated as he held out his arm.

Minerva never batted an eye, slipping her forearm through his as Ron and Seamus turned around. "Good evening Hermione," She nodded to the two wizards, "Ronald, Seamus."

Kingsley nodded to the two wizards and bowed his head to Hermione before turning away, head dipped low to Minerva as their gait quickly carried them toward the elevators.

"Wonder what that was about?" Ron asked, gently kissing the nape of Hermione's neck.

"Don't rightly know," Seamus replied, "But, I don't think I'll ever look at McGonagall the same way again." He muttered.

Ron nodded, his eyes following the Headmistress and Minister. "She doesn't look like the same person."

"No she doesn't." Hermione whispered. Gone was the Head of Gryffindor House, Deputy Headmistress, Professor of Transfiguration, she had been replaced by a woman who easily turned every man's head, and quite a few woman's too, as she passed. The front of her gown had been modest, elegant…but the back was breathtaking in how it dipped to the small of her back, exposing her shoulders…and the strong lines of her back.

"You have to wonder if she's married." Seamus muttered.

Ron chuckled, "Well after tonight, if she wasn't, she may very well be."

"What?" Harry asked as he leaned in and gave Hermione a quick kiss on her cheek. "Hermione, you look great." He quietly breathed.

"Did you see old McGonagall?" Ron asked.

"She isn't old." Hermione snapped. "Matter a fact," Her eyes darted to the elevator where Minerva and Kingsley vanished mere moments before. "I hope when I'm her age, that I can wear the gown she just did."

Ginny nodded in agreement, "It was a lovely dress, and I concur…" At the group's puzzled expression she elaborated, "With Hermione about being able to wear that when I'm McGonagall's age. Damn…I'll be happy if I can wear that in five years." The small group chuckled at her comment.

"Have to wonder what happened that Kingsley rushed over here as if a basilisk were after him." Harry asked picking up two flutes of champagne from a passing server and handed one to Ginny. He turned to Hermione, "Hear anything?"

She shook her head, "No, she had just said hello and had asked about Rose…" She replied.

Harry frowned slightly before shrugging off the encounter, "And how is my favorite niece?"

Ron answered in a heartbeat, and after a minute Hermione found herself starring off into the crowd. It wasn't until she felt Ginny's gentle nudge that she re-focused on the conversation, the worry evident in Ginny's expression.

"Harry," Ginny leaned closer to him, "Would you mind grabbing me a few hors d'oeuvre?" He raised his eyebrow in question, but she slide her eyes to Hermione and back. "I'm starving, honey."

"Oh…" He smiled and leaned down and kissed her softly. "Of course." He turned to Hermione, "Would you like something?"

"Huh?" She then shook her head, "No thank you, I'm fine."

Harry nodded, "Right then." He glanced over to Ron, "Wanna grab some food?"

Ron's face split into a huge grin, "Sure." He grabbed Seamus's shoulder, "Come on."

"We'll be back shortly." Harry stated before turning and following the other two.

No sooner had the three men stepped away and Ginny's fingers reached out grasping Hermione's upper arm. Her voice laced with concern as she asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Hermione brought her distant gaze back to her friend, "Yeah." She muttered, "Just tired."

"You were tired Monday. This…this is more than tired." Ginny cast a momentary gaze towards the table, ensuring the guys were still moving away. "What gives?"

"Ron and I had another argument last night." She answered quietly.

"I'm sure it's the pressure of…"

Ginny's voiced died away at the incredulous look Hermione was giving her, "And Harry is under so much less stress than Ron?" Ginny opened her mouth and Hermione continued on, "We never seem to talk anymore. Our arguments are becoming more frequent and time together has decreased proportionally."

Ginny knew her brother could be a git some days, but the look of heartache and pain etched on Hermione's face tore at the younger woman's breast. "He'll come around, Hermione." She said, gentleness within her voice. "He loves you immensely."

"Love…" Hermione scoffed, eyes involuntarily moving past Ginny to that of her previous professor, Pomona Sprout whose animated words were punctuated by rapid hand gestures as the loving gaze of Filius Flitwick stared up at his wife. "He loves quidditch…" She murmured, "Chocolate frogs…"

"And you." Ginny stated, hoping to reassure her friend.

Hermione's eyes didn't' snap back to Ginny, her brown eyes remained fixed to the other couple…"We have always speculated on their lives, Ginny." Wondering how much anyone truly knew about the professors of Hogwarts as Harold and Filius' rich laugh echoed in time with Helena and Pomona's. "And tonight…" She shook her head, forcing a smile on her lips. "The Headmistress reminded me that our professors are no different than any of us."

"And…?" Ginny asked, waiting for her response, curious as to what that had to do with her and Ron's recent arguments.

"You said love, Ginny…" She nodded towards the two couples across the way, "When Harry looks up at you, do you see that same love reflected in his eyes?"

Ginny followed her gaze, and felt herself nodding. "Yes, and I see it when Ron looks to you." She added, turning back to Hermione.

"It's different Gin, what you see…and what's there." Hermione's voice drifted away with her jumbled thoughts at the sudden realization of what she was saying.

"Hermione…?" Worry beginning to lace Ginny's voice.

Slowly, Hermione's eyes pulled away from that of Pomona and Filius…trailing across the Ministry, a tall woman's quick gait evoking the recent image of an elegantly tall woman wrapped in a sleeveless dress as she crossed the atrium, hand draped in the Minister's arm. How much did she or anyone know about the venerable woman? "Everything's…different." She muttered aloud, eyes rising up to meet Ginny's blue ones as she recalled the latest argument between her and Ron…and how different they perceived the word, love.

_A/N: As I did not state the disclaimer in the prologue…the original characters and the Harry Potter universe belongs to JKR; this story & the original characters within are from my paltry imagination and belong to me. I make no money from this; and my only payment comes in the form of reviews. So please do. :) Also, be advised, that as this story progresses there will be adult themes, including same sex pairings._


	3. Chapter 2 July 28, 2009

**Chapter 2 ~ 5 years later ~ July 28****th****, 2009**

Minerva paused in her ascent from the first floor to the second, shifting her weight to rely more on her walking stick and less on her confounded hip. Sighing, she closed her eyes for but a moment, a wisp of smoke shot from the end of the gnarled appendage. The simple spell burning the tips of her fingers as it transformed into that of a silver cat patronus that bounded down the steps. Grinding her teeth, she willed herself forward knowing that Poppy would be along shortly and she'd be damned to be found flailing and unmoving on a staircase between floors, or asking Elgin for assistance…she could damn well still bloody walk to her rooms from the Great Hall.

She felt a soft sheen of sweat gathering along the base of her neck, her forehead and even in the palm of her hand as she pushed onward…welcoming the sight of the beloved gargoyle statue guarding her rooms.

"Minerva." Poppy's voice trailing down the hall. "You sent for me?"

Minerva didn't bother to turn toward her friend, instead, with a shaky hand reached outward, fingers spread apart and with a wave the statue sprung to life. "Headmistress." It cooed before stepping aside.

"Minerva." Poppy stated drawing beside her. "Are you…" The words left the medi-witch's throat. "Dear Merlin…" She stated grasping Minerva's left arm and hoisting it up over her shoulders. "Up the stairs."

Minerva couldn't agree more as she tiredly ascended. Within moments they had reached her office, and Poppy laid the revered headmistress onto the couch. "Thank you, dear." She muttered leaning back into the pillows as she tried to return her breathing to normal.

Poppy already had her wand out, casting a series of diagnostic spells onto her friend causing the frown on her face to deepen as the complex colors swirled a blackening blue. "You're dying." She whispered, finally putting her wand down.

Minerva tilted her head upwards a quaint smile curling the corners of her mouth, "We've known that for 13 years, Poppy."

Poppy felt the moisture gathering along the corners of her eyes, "But you seemed so alive…" She sat down, "That you'd live for another thirty, forty years. And now…it'll be a miracle if you live another two."

"Another year…perhaps two…" Minerva's Gaelic ancestry seeping into her soft voice. "So much is still to be done. And Hogwarts…" A heavy breath now left her chest. "…I must find a way to shatter the bond before it destroys Hogwarts."

"Surely there is something that can be done, Minerva. The bonding was never meant…"

"My life was sparred through a most unusual set of circumstances as it was, Poppy." She said, forcing her body upright. "Circumstances that none, not even Albus would have dreamt as a possibility." She permitted her gaze to momentarily flicker up to his portrait. He was staring back at her, blue gaze never wavering, concern etched across the canvas' face. "I have been granted a reprieve, Poppy." She brought her gaze back to her friend, "What more would you have me do?"

"Bond to another person." She stated without thought, and felt herself recoil in surprise at the notion. Her eyes snapped over to Minerva, elation at the seemingly straightforward solution. How could she not have thought of this before? However, by the lack of response emanating from Minerva, she leaned forward. "That's a possibility, isn't it? And you've known it for…how long?"

Minerva's gaze involuntarily snapped up to Albus, the weight of the day wearing upon her weary bones. She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question, and he responded with a tilt of his head. "For some time." She stated as green eyes snapped back to pin brown ones beneath her gaze. "But, as simple as the solution sounds, Poppy, the bonding has to be made in love."

Poppy nodded, "I see."

The Scottish witch leaned forward, "Do you?" Her clipped voice asked.

"You're an eighty-six year old witch, who has taught and subsequently resided at the prestigious Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry for over 9 months of the past fifty-one years. You who've schooled half of the wizarding world, and they, who see you as the witch dubbed the most powerful witch of the age, and not as person, or a woman. How to find a person who will love you for you and not be intimidated by all that accompanies the name, Minerva McGonagall?"

"And a person whom I shall love in return."

Poppy leaned forward, "It happened once. Surely, it could happen again."

"Ahhhh," The seriousness of her predicament and the odds of a solution not lost on the Headmistress. "Perhaps you had not noticed that the wrinkles that now line my eyes remain at all times of the day, as they do upon my hands. I struggle to move and require a walking stick now to ambulate. I am no longer a young, beautiful witch, as I once was, but am quickly beginning to resemble the middle aged eighty-six year old woman that I am. And you expect me to fall in love and bond within the next term while being the Headmistress at Hogwarts as my magic wanes exponentially."

"But…" The words died in Poppy's throat as an indignant look swept over Minerva's face.

"Enough of this nonsense." Minerva snapped, "I have a year, perhaps more….perhaps less. It will have to be enough time." Her eyes turning hard as she staunched the rising fear with her legendary Gryffindor courage. "If my condition worsens and I am unable to perform my functions as Headmistress, I will, of course, inform the Board of Governors and step aside. However, until then…I must ask that my condition remains, guarded."

"As you wish, Minerva. However, I would advise that you inform Filius of your condition too. He will be of great aid as the bonding continues to strengthen and your abilities weaken."

Minerva nodded in agreement before pulling her legs up onto the sofa, as her head leaned back against the pillows. "I, however, did not ask you up here to discuss facts that are already known." The fatigue evident even in her voice. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to send up a healing balm…" She stretched out her slightly charred fingers, "For my hand and have a pepper up potion for me in the morning."

Poppy blinked back the tears from her eyes as she leaned over and inspected Minerva's blackened fingertips. "When did this start?" She asked, noticing that the charring appeared to be from magical burns.

"A few months ago…" Minerva murmured tiredly. "Helena and I spoke," She cleared her throat, "And we believe it has to do with my now rapidly depleting magical stores, and _this_," She flexed her fingers, "Is the effect when I overextend my magic and have to draw upon Hogwarts'."

Poppy managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, "How often do you have to use Hogwarts' magic?" Knowing that she and Helena Harrison, the St. Mungos' Head Administrator and Minerva's trusted, long time friend, would need to collaborate with greater frequency as Minerva's condition began to deteriorate at a quicker than anticipated.

Minerva gave a subtle shrug, feigning indifference. "Not often, just today as I was strengthening the governing wards after apparating to Edinburgh, London, the Ridge and then here." Minerva had the good graces to look mildly guilty, "I know I need to slow down…"

"Most wizards or witches wouldn't have had the energy to apparate around all of England and then reconstitute the governing wards of Hogwarts," Poppy sighed, a frown lining her face. "I know you know that you do not have the reserves you once did, Merlin knows, your reserves are still deeper now than over half the wizarding folk."

"Yes, but…" Minerva squeezed Poppy's hand before pulling it away, "It is difficult to cease a sixty year habit."

Poppy conceded, a chuckle slipping from her lips at Minerva's valid point. "True, but please do try." She shook her head, smile still upon her lips, "And yes, I'll have them both sent to your rooms as soon as I return to the infirmary."

"You are good friend Poppy; I thank you…for everything."

Poppy summoned a blanket as the witch closed her eyes, "Rest for a while Minerva." She whispered as she unfolded the thick tartan afghan and draped it over her friend's body. "You'll feel better upon waking."

"Hmmm, a lovely thought indeed…" The rest of her sentence went unfinished as sleep swiftly claimed the Headmistress.

"She has been pushing far too much these past weeks." Albus stated from his lofty portrait.

Poppy turned meeting the former headmaster's gaze, "And when she awakens, she will feel whole and young again which makes it difficult for her to realize that she _must _slow down."

"I fear that despite her endless efforts, it has been for naught and the world shall once again fall into shadow as her magic wanes."

"And what are your thoughts regarding a second bonding to save her life?"

"I have pondered the notion at length and discussed it with Minerva." He cryptically answered.

"And?" She asked sensing he knew far more than he was sharing.

"If the time comes, then and only then, shall I share my thoughts."

"Then there is hope for her?" She asked, almost afraid to believe in the notion.

"There is always hope, Poppy. And it comes in forms that we oft have never thought or considered."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxox

_A/N: Thank you very much to those of you who have taken a moment to review. They help motivate me to write more...and upload faster ;)_


	4. Chapter 3 August 4, 2009

**Chapter 3 ~** **August 4****th**** 2009 (Tuesday)**

"Shall I send your purchases to the Manor or Hogwarts?" Melanie asked as she handed Minerva the bill.

Minerva reached into her robes, pulling out her glasses and with practiced ease put them on. Eyes sliding down the figures of the bill. "Unfortunately I have not had much time to spend at the Manor this year." She glanced up, "If you would be so kind as to send them to Hogwarts?"

Melanie nodded, "Of course. They will arrive before the start of term unless you need an article prior to that."

"No." Minerva stated folding the bill in half, "That will be more than adequate." With a subtle wave of her hand, the bill vanished and Minerva was dropping a small pouch of galleons onto the table. "Please use the extra to assist young Teddy Lupin in the purchase of his school robes and a tip for yourself."

"Headmistress…this is too much." Melanie stated.

"Nonsense, dear. I know that you must import the silk for my robes, and at the quoted price you cannot be charging me more than your cost. Please give my regards to your mother." Minerva dropped her hand and a walking stick suddenly appeared at her side. "And speak with your mother about how to charge the clientele." She paused, "I am sure she will inform you of who you are to charge closer to cost and who you are not too."

"I was told that you were one of those clients." She whispered.

Minerva eyed the young witch for a long moment as if pondering the notion, before allowing a smile to appear on her face. "Then I shall have to speak with Meredith, for it seems that I have been overcharged for years."

Melanie stammered, "I…it's just that you…well…you're so…it seemed the least I could do."

"I have been shopping here for over seven decades, Melanie. And I am quite comfortable with the pricing structure. Though I do appreciate the sentiment, dear. Good day."

"Professor..." Melanie called out.

The elder witch paused, head turning back to the young witch, eyebrow raised. "Yes, Miss Malkins?"

"Thank you." She stated.

"You are quite welcome." Minerva replied leaving the young witch in wonderment.

Minerva stepped onto the cobblestone street and began heading toward the Apothecary to finish some of her pre-term shopping and was about to call it a day when she heard _his _voice and felt a chill run down her spine.

"If it is none other than the venerable Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

Minerva turned toward the hollow voice. "Johannes." She drawled, eyes sweeping over the younger wizard. He had aged considerably over the past 5 years, a hint of grey at his temples, the scar along his cheek from their encounter 7 years ago. "You should not have come back here, and to me…of all people."

"I must admit to being mildly shocked to see you still alive, the bonding…Esmerele was right, it must have worked." He stated, before muttering to himself. "Fascinating."

Emerald eyes narrowed into predatory slits, fingers unconsciously wrapping a bit tighter around the end of her walking stick. She could still see him sweeping across the front lawn at her Manor, her daughter's blood dripping off his robes. "How is your shoulder and your back?"

"My shoulder and back?" He murmured, taking a step closer and then eyes flashing in recognition. "You!" His jaw flinched in anger, fingers touching the side of his face. One of the many physical testaments that she had given him in Madrid and England. "I should have known." He pursed his lips, a sneer sliding over his face, mirth lining his voice, "And how are your legs? I see you have had to resort to a walking stick."

Minerva could feel her control beginning to wane as Johannes' eyes swept over her, but the steady throng of people entering and exiting the shops infused her willpower…as did the small bustle of crimson and gold robes belonging to the sprightly young lass, Rose Weasley, Hermione's daughter. She could just see Hermione stepping out of the shop behind her daughter, hand upon her shoulder…motherly gaze looking down…

It didn't feel like that much time had passed since she was doing the same thing…with her daughter…

Minerva noted their silhouettes pausing in the street just opposite, and despite her desire to bring Johannes to justice for his actions all those years ago, it would have to wait. She would not risk injuring those around them, no matter how much she desired otherwise. "I have no intention of dueling you, here, today." She stated, grinding the words from her lips, and hating that she was uttering them.

"You didn't back away in Madrid…You are not well are you?" His dry chuckle splitting the air, "You wouldn't willingly not fight me…unless," His mouth quirked down, sparkle appearing in his eyes. "You're dying."

"We are all dying Johannes," She stated, "Even you."

At that he shook his head, "On the contrary my dear Headmistress." His voice dropped low, becoming guttural. "I have no intentions of dying. Rather of becoming immortal, as you and your beloved husband had intended on being before he was killed."

Minerva's face portrayed her shock, "Immortal? What absurd idea…" Then she realized what information he sought, and she would die first. Even if it meant the end of her…and her beloved Hogwarts.

"During the six years of our marriage, your daughter was most forthcoming regarding the family…"

Minerva could feel the hate she had long since buried come to life as the truth behind Esmerele's death had finally and shatteringly become known. "Is that why you killed her?" Minerva hissed.

Johannes answered her with words he had never dreamed he'd be able to utter. "She didn't die in my arms…she died in yours."

His words cut to her soul. In that moment, she felt her world stop…pain envelope her chest…but she willed it away locking eyes with him. Almost instantly the world around her began to melt away. All the reasons why she would never duel someone in the middle of Diagon Alley, suddenly seemed irrelevant…she would find a way, as she had always found a way. She was Minerva McGonagall…and this man, had killed her daughter. Fury emanating from deep within her core, as she sought understanding to how Esmerele had died. "You killed her because I survived when my husband had been killed despite being bonded."

"How does it feel to know that your life caused your beloved daughter's death?" He mocked. "Now tell me…"

The very shops on either side of them began to shake, and before he could utter another word his body blew backwards.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

"Mom," Rose said pulling her mother's robe. "Isn't that Aunt McGonagall?" She asked pointing across the street.

Hermione glanced to where her daughter was pointing, and there standing in front of the Apothecary was Minerva McGonagall conversing with a tall brown haired man in dark cyan robes. "Yes, honey it is." She said as her daughter reached up and took her hand.

"Are we going to say hi?" She asked as Hermione slipped the shrunk package into her pocket.

Hermione turned towards Minerva and was shocked to see cold fury sweep over the elder woman's normally expressionless face. "I don't know if now is a good time, sweetheart." She said as she leaned down giving Rose a quick peck on the cheek. "How about we stop by and see her at Hogwarts before term starts?"

"Really!?!?" Rose asked excitedly. "She won't mind?"

"I'm sure she'll welcome the visit."

Rose spun back towards McGonagall, a frown overtaking her smile, "Mom, I don't think she likes that man."

Hermione raised her eyes in time to see the Apothecary walls beginning to shake. "Get behind me." She stated, "Now."

Rose didn't need to be told twice and ducked behind her mother who was already pulling her wand out and before she could blink, had cast a protego charm as a blinding white light shot from Minerva's body and the body of the man was propelled backwards.

Hermione turned away from the light…her shield buckling from the pulse of magic. Raising her hand, she tried to see…

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoox**

In a heartbeat, the walking cane within Minerva's hand morphed back into her wand, as Johannes rolled upright shaking his head as he stood…his own wand pointing at his adversary. "I shall have your secret, McGonagall."

With a deft arc of her wand, the street shimmered and the sound of the surrounding traffic vanished. She had magically encased them in a bubble. "You shall be dead first."

"They can't hear us…" Johannes shook his head, as he eyed the witch before him with loathing, "To have such power, remaining so contained…you are a waste to that of a pureblood."

"To think I called you, son." Minerva scoffed before whipping her wand through the air as her mouth tightened into a thin line. A hundred pieces of cobblestone rose before her and at once swept towards Johannes.

They morphed from stone to smoke and as they shattered around his shield, into a silvery string that instantly tightened around his arms. Which melted away as he sent bolts of rock back towards Minerva.

Jumping forward, her body twisting horizontal in the air as the rocks swept by her…and before she touched the ground, the plants on either side of him sprung to life, wrapping around his legs…

He cringed as the vines tightened further along his left leg while he sent a barricade of dirt at the damnable Headmistress.

The wall of dirt slammed into Minerva as she landed…churning along her skin…

**xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxox**

Hermione stood dumbfounded as part of the alley, literally rose upwards…and then she remembered, who the woman before her was, Minerva McGonagall…the witch of legend… True Minerva had aged, so had she…but, to think that the Headmistress possessed so much magic…

And then she watched in horror as some of the cobblestone was morphed and daggers of rock were flying at… "Minerva!" Hermione shrieked despite the knowledge that the witch and wizard were ensconced in a bubble, nothing in and nothing out – including sound.

Then she, along with the rest of onlookers, stood in utter amazement as Minerva's body leapt forward…in a spin…moving at a speed that defied possibility as she became parallel to the ground. Hermione felt her mouth slacken as first one, and then a second followed by third rock struck Minerva's outstretched hands…causing the rocks to shatter into a million pieces of dust…and as she arched into a landing, she had brought the weeds to life on either side of her adversary…

Before her body was slammed backwards…by a wall of dirt, stone…and she could see Minerva fighting against the pressure, and then the wall began to fall, dirt and blood dripping from her high cheekbones, eyes blazing…

And in a flurry of deep purple robes, Hermione pulled the small parcel from her pocket as she kneeled before her daughter whispering, "Portus."

Rose gazed past her mother…as dust blew outwards before colliding with invisible bubble and falling to the cobblestone alley. "I don't…"

"Here…this will take you to Uncle Harry."

"Mom!?"

"Go and tell him of Aunt McGonagall."

Rose stretched out her shaky fingers… "Will she be alright?"

Hermione didn't know how to answer her daughter, other than repeat her earlier sentiment, "Go."

Rose didn't need to be told twice and stretched her fingers out, and then she was gone…her daughter's words echoing in her consciousness. _She be alright…?_ And as Hermione stood…eyes latching on the unprecedented duel that was shredding the road down the heart of Diagon Alley…she found her beliefs collapsing as a pile of coins flew into Minerva's hand and melted through the air…for she had never considered a world without the Scottish witch in it.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**

The wall collapsed at Minerva's feet, her breaths becoming hard and she could feel the drain permeating throughout her body. _So much for over a year_, she thought as she summoned the last of her galleons, sickles and knuts stashed within her robes. In a heartbeat, the coins were hovering before her, _There's going to be hell to pay for this…_she thought as she whipped and twirled her wand with a series of quick flicks and spins…

The coins melted…into a string of metal and then fell to a pool of thread at the wizard's feet.

"You are weak, woman. Like your daughter." He chided as he cast a blaze of fire towards her.

She remained motionless as the fire pressed down upon her…and then she waved her right hand into her left…and a solitary tear rose off her cheek as the fire's flames licked her body.

Minerva stilled her heart as the heat of the flames touched her skin and with a deep breath; she whispered into the palm of her hand…blowing the single tear outward as the flames consumed her.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxooxxoxo**

Hermione could not believe the coins had turned into thread of gold, silver and bronze before falling at the wizard's feet…to what end? And how the devil did she break Gringott's enhancements on the coins? She wondered; worry lacing her features, as a ball of fire swept towards Minerva…who did not seem to be the least bit concerned.

She merely stood…awaiting its imminent arrival…

Then she seemed to wave in front of her face…and as the ball of fire encompassed the Headmistress…dozens of shouts screamed in anger, shock, worry as every witch and wizard along the alley tried to save Minerva McGonagall. Hermione included.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo**

The overbearing heat was gone as quickly as it had originated as the solitary tear became a wave of water, blanketing the fire. Before even a wisp of smoke had risen off her robes, Minerva snapped her wand and a loud, thundering crack resonated down the alley. The pool of thread liquefied and before Johannes could move, an inverted netting of precious metals collapsed upon him.

Gripping his wand, he shot several bolts at Minerva who merely deflected them to the right and left. Hawk like eyes slanting against the light, gold frames glinting as she strode fearlessly forward.

And then as she closed to within ten paces, the netting fell from his chest…his breathing labored as he collapsed to the ground whilst firing a string of hexes.

Minerva countered one after another, sending her own barrages at Johannes…

The light flying between their wands moving faster than could be seen by the naked eye.

Then Johannes misjudged…and the side of his face burst forth in pain. But in that moment, their eyes locked and he was no longer sure that she was dying. She was so alive…full of magic…and he knew that he could not finish this today, nor would she willingly tell him what he sought. He would have to find another method of loosening her tongue.

With a growl of frustration he snapped. "We _will_ meet again…mother."

"I shall be waiting." She replied as he vanished with a feint pop. Momentarily her eyes remained riveted upon the spot where Johannes once stood. Sighing, she pulled herself back to the present as her eyes swept across the shattered alley, thanking Merlin that it had been confined to just the street and not the shops too.

Wearily, she extended her hand…and her wand shimmered…growing into a gnarled walking stick that she dropped onto the stone street, and at once the encasing bubble burst.

Her adrenaline was already waning… "Minerva!" She tilted her head up ever so much at the distinct voice of her old student, Hermione Weasley…and was about to acknowledge her…but it mattered not, there wasn't time. She was too tired…and could feel her body crumbling. Without thought, Minerva closed her eyes…the last of her strength swept through her, and with a singular pulse of magic, the world jumped and her body was collapsing against the iron gates of Hogwarts.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxox**

The fire had dissipated in a wave of smoke as water billowed outwards…and the rich pile of thread spooled into the wind and reformed as a great eagle's nest that snapped into a net…continually tightening around the wizard's body. And there stood Minerva McGonagall over 50 paces away…her hat lay forgotten along the side of the street as strands of her hair fell from her bun…strings of hair blowing in the wind, one side of her face smudged with dirt and a trail of blood dripping from her jaw…lips pursed in a thin line…her usually pristine emerald robes scorched in several spots from the fire…as she marched forward, with a purpose that brought new meaning to the muggle phrase, 'hell hath no fury.' And in that moment, Minerva looked to be every inch the most powerful witch of her age as her cloak billowed behind her…a molten fire bursting forth from her green eyes…as she deflected the oncoming spells as though swatting a pesky mosquito.

The wizard managed to disengage the netting as she closed to within a mere 10 feet and then a specter of varied lights shot between the two as their wands moved at speeds faster than one could watch…before the wizard jerked backwards hand to his cheek…shock upon his face as they exchanged a flurry of words before the bubble pulsed…and the wizard was gone.

Collectively the street breathed a sigh of relief…the duel was over, and they watched as the revered witch slowly turned, taking in the devastation before her. And Hermione watched as the shoulders of the Headmistress began to slacken, the fatigue from her duel already evident in her movements which were becoming slow, stiff…as she wearily extended her fingers, and her wand shimmered into a weathered walking stick that she dropped to the street. The effect was immediate, the bubble burst…and the clatter of coins could be heard jingling along the cobblestone.

Hermione was already running towards Minerva, who seemed to waver for a moment, "Minerva!" The emerald clad witch barely glanced upwards, and then in a flash, she was gone.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxo**

Minerva could feel the pulse of Hogwarts…and then she felt a flutter of fingers on her arm. "You is most unwell, Headmistress." The elderly head house elf, Elgin scolded. "Come…come…to your chambers." He stated, and his withered fingers tightened around her arm and they winked away from the gates.

"Dear Merlin, Minerva…!" Poppy exclaimed, as Minerva fell backwards onto her bed. "What? How?" The medi-witch turned to the obscure house elf. "You said she needed assistance…where did you…?"

Filius burst through the oak door and drew up to a stop at the sight of Poppy berating the head house elf, who was rarely seen by any, save Minerva since Albus' death…and Minerva lay exhausted in a burnt heap of robes.

Elgin turned to Filius giving a quaint nod as he stated, "The Ministry approaches, Deputy." With a curt bow, he was gone.

"I seemed to have made a bit of ruckus while shopping at the alley today." Minerva stated, pulling herself upright and wincing as she did.

Poppy and Filius turned to each other, "A bit?" They chorused as they took in the disheveled appearance of their Headmistress.

"Please stall them for a few moments Filius…" She whispered, "And get me a pepper up potion, Poppy.'

"Minerva…" Poppy swallowed, "You _must_ rest. You are exhausted….dear Merlin, how much magic did you use?" She gasped as she realized what Minerva meant by _ruckus_, "You were in a duel."

Filius's concern mirrored Poppy's, "That was most unwise…and…"

Albus' voice cut the conversation, "Five ministry officials have just entered Hogwarts."

"You may berate me later." She snapped, "After the ministry has been dealt with." She sighed, "And call the Professors back, immediately. In addition, I will tell Kingsley that we shall need to re-activate the Order of the Phoenix."

"Minerva, surely…" Filius' reasoned.

Despite the overbearing fatigue…her disheveled appearance…her weakening body…in that moment, fire danced in her words and shot from her eyes. "I am afraid dear friend that darkness has returned."

**Oxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo**

Before Hermione could react, the street was swarming with reporters from the Prophet and Ministry officials as statements were being taken from hundreds of the witnesses. Echoes of their conversations could be heard down the alley.

"Don't know what they were talkin' about…"

"…never seen anything…"

"Still the greatest witch…"

"Can't be a good sign that McGonagall would duel in the middle of Diagon Alley…"

"Utterly amazing…"

"Never been more afraid in me life…"

"Haven't a clue who he was…"

"Need to talk with the Goblins…"

"No…somehow the duel was encased…"

"A right witch she is…in league of her own…"

"Bloody marvelous…"

"Don't rightly know if Gringott's money…"

Then she felt a warm hand upon her shoulder, "'Mione." Harry pulled her around as his eyes swept over his friend. "You okay?"

Hermione nodded, eyes closing as he pulled her into his embrace. "Yeah." She muttered before pulling back. "Harry, I've never seen Minerva so…" She shook her head at a momentary loss of words.

"Mrs. Weasley. Harry." Kingsley's deep voice cutting the air. "Do you know where the Headmistress went?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, but I would guess to either her Manor or Hogwarts."

"I have already sent teams to both…" Kingsley moved to leave, but Hermione reached out grasping his arm. "Who was that man?"

The minister shook his head, "It would seem that only our illustrious Headmistress knows." He paused taking in the younger witch and wizard, "I shall need a statement Hermione." He turned as a feint voice stated _Hogwarts_. "It would seem that you were correct, she had indeed returned to Hogwarts. Thank you…and good day."

Harry and Hermione watched as Kingsley disapparated, "From what I've heard," Harry turned to Hermione, "The duel was intense."

Hermione clenched her jaw, "Whoever he was, Harry, he couldn't have been good. She had a look of unadulterated hatred etched on her face. As did he."

"What do you say that we get your statement and then stop by and see how McGonagall is doing after the Ministry has left. Maybe get some idea of who he is."

"Brilliant."

He smiled, pulling her into an embrace. "I do have my moments."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

Poppy watched as Minerva stood, leaning heavily on her walking stick and then the walls hummed, her body glowed alabaster with a hint of blue for but a moment…and Poppy found herself speechless at the sight. On two separate occasions, Minerva had spoken of how Hogwarts rejuvenated her, but to witness it firsthand…

"Amazing." She whispered. She was no longer staring at a haggard witch encompassed in scorched robes, but that of her long time friend in her typical pristine embroidered emerald cloaks; all traces of dirt, blood, and burns erased – even the deep gash along her cheekbone was gone.

"There are a few advantages…" Minerva stated as she reached to take the pepper up potion off the end table beside her.

"I would love to run some tests…" Poppy began but stopped at Minerva's quirked brow before up ending the potion.

Minerva swallowed the gelatinous liquid down before pulling the bottle away, and with an unsteady hand returned the potion to the table. She yanked her hand back, eyes returning to Poppy whose smile no longer reached her eyes for she had deduced the truth.

"Hogwarts staunched the drain, and can reset it…with rest…but this…" She waved her hand in front of Minerva. "Is temporary, isn't it?"

"Much like the pepper up potion." Her thick brogue sending chills down Poppy's spine. "I have an hour, perhaps two. Then I _must_ rest."

"Won't…"

"Minerva, Filius could use your assistance." Albus briefly flashed in his portrait within her rooms before returning to the Headmistress' office.

"I shall be fine, Poppy." Minerva stated, "And will see you in the morning."

Poppy opened her mouth to admonish Minerva for being sent away, but the Headmistress merely shook her head. "It matters not what you give me, for I'm dying Poppy. Do not forget that, it will make the next several months far easier to bear." And with that, she strode forward. The click of her walking stick beating in tune with the pace set forth by the heel of her boots…and Poppy watched her dear friend elegantly exit from her personal rooms, head held high and shoulders back…ready to take on the Ministry.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo**

The door automatically closed behind her, and she paused…willing her body to have the necessary strength. Tightening her fingers upon the knot at the top of her walking stick, she righted her shoulders and descended the bronze staircase. The scattering of voices in her office died away as she became visible.

"Headmistress…" Filius stated turning to see McGonagall step near, and fought to keep his face from portraying the shock he felt. She did not look at all like she had mere moments before. The blatant fatigue no longer drawing down her face, eyes sparkling against the light, and she had changed into a fresh set of robes. "The Ministry wishes to know about the incident between you and a dark cyan robed wizard in Diagon Alley a short while ago."

Minerva smiled at her Deputy. "Yes, I am sure." She drawled.

"We must insist that you follow us to the Ministry…"

At once, the portraits all stopped feigning sleep and were now watching the scene before them with great interest.

The Headmistress turned her attention to the small contingent of officials who were standing opposite of her desk. "No doubt to garner information as to why I broke out into a duel in the middle of Diagon Alley."

Pansy Parkinson stepped forward, "The Minister insists…"

"Then please tell Minister Shacklebolt he is welcome to visit me at Hogwarts this evening, or I will be glad to be of assistance at the Ministry in the morning."

"I am afraid that was not an option presented to us." Parkinson stated, stepping forward…hand upon her wand. "Your actions in Diagon Alley this afternoon leave us little choice but to arrest…"

"I would highly suggest you take your hand off your wand, Miss Parkinson." Minerva's clear voice ringing in the air, "As I can assure you I will not be spending my evening in Azkaban, but you may very well be spending yours in St. Mungos."

At once three of the four other officials stepped backwards, while the fourth, Zachariah Smith stepped forward…hand upwards. "Whoa…" He set a hand on top of Pansy's. "Pansy…" He turned to McGonagall. "Headmistress." He cleared his throat, "I believe our intent has been misinterpreted."

"Indeed." Minerva replied, eyeing the previous Hufflepuff student.

"We were sent here to ensure your safety, and…"

Minerva tuned out the last of his sentence as she felt the Gargoyle leap aside, and from the deep vibrations of the castle, could tell that the Minister was about to enter her office. Glancing past the lot of men and women, her eyes narrowed at the door and before a knock could be had…the door swung open to reveal Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Hello Minister." Minerva greeted.

"Headmistress." Kingsley replied, eyeing the strange scene before him. "I came as soon as I heard…" He turned his full attention on his long time friend, "Are you well?"

"I shall live." She replied.

"And the man in the Alley?" He asked, urgency lacing his normal slow cadence.

"An old acquaintance."

"Minerva…half of the street in Diagon Alley has been destroyed…"

Her eyes snapped to his underlings and back. "I assure you, that was not my intent."

"Who was he?" He asked, leaning forward, pinning her with his golden brown stare. "And what in Merlin's name caused the scene in Diagon Alley today? Is he a threat to the Ministry?"

She met his burning questions with stoicism, before quietly responding. "Yes, Kingsley, he is a threat the likes of which we have not seen since Voldemort's death." Her statement caused a chill to settle in the room, "Now, the rest of what I have to say is for the Minister, alone."

The room broke into a chorus of voices, all in spouting their wish, rights, desires to hear what she had to say. "If you value your jobs, you will be out of the office and awaiting me by the great front doors within a minute." Kingsley thundered over their protests and at once, upon seeing his face, the small group bolted from her office and down the spiral staircase.

Tiredly, Minerva turned to Filius, "I will abreast you of the situation in the morning."

Filius nodded, "Very well, Minerva." He paused, "Please do get some rest." Before pulling the door closed.

"Well?" Kingsley asked.

With aching slowness, Minerva moved over to red and gold stripped sofa. "Would you like some tea?" She asked before wearily sitting down.

"Do you need to go to St. Mungos?" He asked, pulling his robe around him as he sat down.

Shaking her head, she reached over and pulled a cup of tea off the plate that had just magically appeared. "I am in need of rest, nothing more."

Kingsley eyed the Headmistress, "Quite a display today, Minerva." He stated, before giving in and taking the other cup of tea. "And…" He shook his head, "I will be spending the better part of the next 6 months reassuring the wizarding world that no one can transfigure our money. What in Merlin's name possessed you to use Gringott's coins…and how the devil did you do it?"

"I'm a 4th level Master of transfiguration, Minister." Her statement implying that alone was reason enough and no other explanation was necessary.

"Who accomplished the impossible." Shacklebolt stated.

She took a long sip, "I have no idea what you are talking about," A quaint smile spread across her face. "Save that I dropped my loose change, regarding the

transfiguration Minister, the coins used were from Weasleys' Wheezies and not of wizarding currency."

Kingsley's voice turned serious, "Minerva…the Goblins are already demanding an explanation and no matter what you say, it looked as though you were using Galleons, Sickles and Knuts."

She nodded, "Of that, I am quite sure, George did a marvelous job with replicas." With a heavy sigh, she continued on, "I shall speak with Griphook personally, Minister. I can assure you that there is no need for concern, it was a mere illusion."

Shacklebolt frowned, knowing that albeit it was highly important, the issue with Gringott's coins was something that would have to wait. "And the man? Is he the one you pursued across Europe a decade ago?"

Minerva gave a solitary nod, "Johannes has returned. We need to reactivate the Order at once."

"Do not allow your personal feelings to judge the present." He quietly rumbled. "He is but one man."

"Whom you do not know, nor understand what he is capable of."

He shook his head, "I will not reactivate the Order for your personal vengeance, Minerva."

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping off her lashes and down her cheek. "Personal vengeance is it?"

"What else would you have me believe? You wish to reactivate the Order of the Phoenix on little more than scattered bits of information, the bulk of which occurred during the attack, and subsequent death of your daughter. For which you have my deepest sympathies Minerva, but he is only one man." He paused for a moment, eyes trying to search hers for a hint of more, before finally shaking his head. "No, Minerva. Your request is not for the betterment of the wizarding world, but to help accomplish your own, personal agenda. The Order will not be reactivated."

Pain tore through Minerva's breast as Kingsley finished his lecture…leaving another gaping wound inflicted upon her by a friend. She sat there, unmoving…silent as she tampered down her initial reaction. Then slowly she opened her eyes, piercing him with her gaze.

Her voice becoming thick, "After all I have done…" She locked her emerald eyes with him causing him to shirk backward. "I have forewarned you Kingsley as both a friend and as an ally, yet you believe it is for self-motivated reasons." She continued on, an underlying coldness seeping into the cadence of her voice. "I have lost my parents, my two brothers, my husband, my son, my daughter, my grand-daughter, and more friends than I can count…and not once have I been anything other than true to the betterment and sanctity of Britain. And now…I tell _you_ that Johannes Harkiss has returned and is a threat, not only to me, but also to the ministry.

"After everything, _we_ have been through Kingsley, you have the audacity to believe my motives are personal." She chortled as she gave a slight shake, "You are a daft fool, who can no longer see the enemy rising before him yet is willing to cut his friends down without provocation or reason. I will be reactivating the Order without you, and if you choose to stop me at any time, Minister, you may come to Hogwarts and get me." She stood, "Good-bye Kingsley."

"Minerva…I…"

The elder witch cocked an eyebrow at him, "You'll be showing yourself out, Minister."

Kingsley clamped his mouth shut, color rising in his cheeks as he stood. "Be careful Minerva, it has never bode well when the Head of Hogwarts has been at odds with the Ministry."

"Fortunately Hogwarts has, and continues to operate outside the Ministry's purview." She replied with a deep brogue lacing her words.

Fury swept over his face, "Heed my words, Headmistress." He ground out before he turned and in flurry of robes was gone.

Minerva sighed as the door slammed shut.

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing?" Albus asked.

Minerva sat back down, her energy all but gone. "No." She murmured, "But in my heart, I know that Johannes seeks to destroy all that I hold dear. Even Hogwarts."

Albus nodded, "Then you must reactivate the Order at once, my dear."

Minerva closed her eyes, relishing the feeling. "Just a few minutes, Albus."

"Which Kingsley will use to his advantage." He replied.

"Damn the Ministry." She murmured before standing and making her way to her desk. She opened the drawer, and pulled out several sheaves of parchment, an old purple ink well, and a quill. Drawing the chair out…she sat down and in a handful of minutes, there was a pile of sealed parchments sitting on the corner of her desk.

"Elgin." She tiredly called.

There was crack, and then the elder house elf appeared. His countenance as drawn as hers, "Headmistress."

"Please see to it that these…" She reached over and handed the letters to him. "Are delivered immediately."

"Of course, Headmistress." And with a tilt of his head, he was gone.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxooxxoxoxoxo**

Hermione didn't even step onto the property, when Ron's voice rang out. "You were at Diagon Alley this afternoon, with Rose, and you sent her via portkey to Harry?" He screeched.

Hermione snapped back, "Yes, Harry. He is an auror…"

"I bloody am too!"

"Who was at the Ministry today!" She rebuked, "What could you have done? You were at the zoo, with Hugo…"

"Harry is not her father!"

"No he is not! But, you need to start acting like one!"

"What do you think I was bloody doing all day?"

Hermione took a deep breath, her voice still rigid. "Ron, enough. I'm tired, and Harry and I were going to head up to Hogwarts tonight to see if McGonagall is alright."

"Yeah…" He sighed, "You're right." He ran a hand through his strawberry hair. "Hugo has already eaten and Ginny fire called you earlier to say that she would keep Rose tonight."

"Did you want to stay for dinner?" She asked tiredly.

He frowned, "Nah…I'm pulling a shift tonight, and I need to get a few hours sleep."

"I thought you were off today?"

"They called after the incident in the Alley." He murmured, "And I could use the money."

"Well…be safe Ron." She stated. "I don't know what is going on, but if today was any indication…"

"If that isn't the truth." He groaned, "From what I heard, the wizard was frightenly good."

Hermione nodded, "He held his own against McGonagall. I think at the onset, he believed he could take her. However, by the end, it was plain that he had more than met his match."

A one-sided grin spread across his face, "Must not be too bright, then. Don't know many a witch or wizard willing to duel against ol' McGonagall."

"As true as that is, Ron. How many others would have been able to fight against him, and survive let alone beat him?"

"Surely a team of aurors…"

Hermione's expression stopped Ron's words, "No Ron." Her voice became distant as she recalled the events from earlier, "I've never seen anyone, not even when Dumbledore and Voldemort dueled at the Ministry, duel like they did. She even transfigured her coins…"

"Bloody hell." He stated, "That's impossible." His brows crinkled, "Isn't it?"

Hermione couldn't stop the grin from curling at the corner of her mouth at Ron's question. "Yes, Ron." She said, bringing her gaze back to him. "There hasn't been a case of a witch or wizard that has been able to alter, transfigure, charm, enchant or otherwise change wizarding money for close to a millennia."

"That'll raise all kinds of hell for both the Headmistress and Gringott's…" He grumbled, thinking of the long hours of pointless detail he would be working due to this.

"True…" Hermione stated, narrowing her eyes, "But the question Harry and I are wondering is why did she duel him? And what in Merlin's beard would possess her to engage him in duel with so many people around? It is not like her at all to endanger others…"

"Don't know, but I'm glad you're alright." He quietly stated giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

She gave him a warm smile before she leaned in, placing a quick peck on the side of his cheek. "Thank you." She whispered, "Enough about today, go and get some rest and I'll see you this weekend when I drop off the kids." He opened his mouth…and she continued on chuckling, "Yes…Harry and I will let you know what we find out at Hogwarts tonight." Hermione stated, as they neared the porch.

Ron smirked, "Right then."

"Good night, Ron." She said drawing backwards.

"Hermione…have you ever thought…?" He jammed his hands into his pockets, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. "About us…" His ears were turning pink, "Getting back together again?" He asked, hoping they had made ample progress since that dreaded night just over 9 months ago…

"You're like a brother, Ron. One I cherish and love, and will forever be your friend, but I cannot return to a relationship that was based on our mutual love of Harry…and our exploits…we've simply grown apart."

_"We have not..." He started, "We love quidditch, chess…"_

_"No Ron, we don't. You do. I love to read, to dance…and the longer our lists go, the more it will elaborate how much we do not have in common."_

_"But Hermione…"_

_"When was the last time we didn't argue when it was just the two of us, and someone was watching the kids?"_

_"That isn't unusual…it's part of making a marriage work."_

_"It's been three years since we've had a conversation that did not break down into an argument." She shook her head, "It's not an environment that is healthy for either one of us, let alone what it will do to the children."_

_"We never fight in front of the children."_

_"We did today." She tiredly rebuked._

_"That wasn't even a fight…"He stated throwing his hands up into the air. "We were just expressing different opinions."_

_"How ever you categorize it Ron, it boils down to the same thing." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, "We are not getting along and haven't been for quite some time."_

_"I guess you want to see a counselor or something." He snapped in anger._

_"No, Ron. I don't." She replied in a soft, muted voice._

_Her response took the wind from his argument. "Then what, a divorce? Over this?"_

_"No, Ron." She said, eyes shining against the light, "I want us to find a way to move forward together as a couple, or move apart while we can still be friends."_

_"Friends! After all…"_

"I have Ron." She said pausing as she took two steps and was now standing on her porch; gaze level with his.

"And?" He asked quietly as his heart hammered against his ribs.

"As much as I love you…" She reached out placing her hand flush against his chest, "You know as well as I, that we're better apart."

"Hermione…" He whispered in a voice almost choked out with emotion, "We haven't argued in months. You were right, perhaps a break, but…"

Hermione could feel the moisture pooling in her eyes, and as she blinked, felt a solitary tear slip down her cheek. "Look at me, and tell me that you aren't happier now than when we were together."

He dropped his gaze, voice wrenching. "I am, but it doesn't mean that I don't miss you."

The corner of her mouth quirked, "And I miss you…Ron." She said, "But as a friend, not a lover."

He nodded as he wrapped his left hand on top of hers, holding it to his chest as he turned to her, reaching up with his right one and tracing it along her cheek. "No matter what, I will always love you." He whispered into her hair.

"And I you." She replied, a tender smile gracing her lips and eyes.

Nodding he let go of her hand, and took a step back. "I'll see you Saturday."

"Be careful tonight, Ron."

He nodded, "Always am." And before he could turn to leave, there were two loud successive cracks rippling along the air, and both Ron and Hermione were staring at an envelope floating down in front of each of them.

Hermione and Ron both reached out, grasping their respective paper and at once slit the seal to reveal the same message scrawled in purple ink across their parchments.

_After today's events, I am re-activating the Order of the Phoenix. I shall explain in the morning. 6:00 am; the parchment is a portkey and will only bring its bearer._

_MM ~ _

_**A/N: Well…from here on out…the plot and pace is going to do nothing but quicken. **__****__** As for the length; for the most part…this will be the mid to average length per chapter for the next several and as we move into the heart of the book…they'll be twice as long. Reviews are fabulous and quite motivational for me to post more. Best case scenario – there will be an update weekly; will attempt for it to be on Fridays.**_


	5. Chapter 4 August 5, 2009

**Chapter 4 ~ August 5****th****, 2009 (Wednesday)**

Hermione glanced at the time as her Daily Prophet slid to a stop as the owl sped out her window. 5:56. _Four minutes…_ Hermione's curiosity quickly got the better of her, as she had pondered since yesterday what the Prophet would say regarding Minerva's duel in Diagon Alley, and she reached out and flipped open the paper.

**Minerva McGonagall duels Mystery Wizard…**

Beneath the title, was a large picture of Minerva marching towards a wizard…cloak billowing behind her…

Hermione took a second to scan the article…

_Minerva McGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, encountered an unknown wizard while shopping in Diagon Alley that ended in a blazing duel, leaving the Alley's streets in shambles, but no other injuries have been reported._

_Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt released a brief statement. "I have spoken with Headmistress McGonagall and can assure the wizarding world that the duel was of a personal nature and poses no threat to the wizarding community."_

_The Headmistress was unavailable for comment. We were assured that her unavailability was not related to any injuries suffered by the duel, but to attend to pressing business within Hogwarts._

_Despite the Minister's statement, the Daily Prophet would like to take a moment to encourage all of its readers to practice caution. When was the last time Minerva McGonagall was frivolous in action and deed? Turn to pages 2-5 on a biography of Minerva McGonagall and pages 6-7 for excerpts and exclusive pictures of the Diagon Alley Duel. _

_Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxo_

Hermione scanned further down and noticed the small article in the bottom right corner.

**Gringott's Money Safe**

_McGonagall's duel left many questions about the safety and security of wizarding money, but a joint statement was released by the Head Goblin of Gringott's and Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. "The coins used in my duel this afternoon, were not of Gringott's but Weasleys' Wizard Wheezies...._

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Hermione couldn't help wonder how true Minerva's statement was regarding the Gringott's coins as she slipped the paper under her arm and she reached over to the parchment she received last eve. Her fingers grazed the surface as the clock in her room chimed…at once she felt a rake travel across her navel and then she was standing in a deep mahogany wood room with several other startled faces staring back at her.

"Where are we?" Harry asked standing up, and lending a hand to Ginny before brushing off his robes.

"Don't rightly know." George said, glancing about the ostentatious room. "But it's a right place it is."

"Definitely that." Neville said as his eyes swept around the room. "Looks almost like the Malfoys."

"Too nice." Hermione said, as she turned around…trying to take in the entire splendor. Rich walnut wood moldings and trim covered the room, with two Monet's perched on either side of a 40 by 20 foot tapestry lining one wall…the back wall had a large stain glass window depicting a wizard's duel…with thin step windows on either side…the opposite long wall held three smaller tapestries interspersed with a few paintings…and a tall wooden double door with cases lined with a collection of marbled sculptures…

The room itself had a large walnut table, lined with twenty chairs…and Hermione's eyes swept around the room, noticing that the woman who had asked everyone to be here was the one who was absent. "Has anyone here been on a full tour of McGonagall Manor?"

"Harry and I have been there." Ginny said, walking towards the table. "But only through parts of the first floor…"

"As have Arthur and I." Molly stated, pulling a chair out.

Several persons stated to having been inside the Manor…but as everyone took their seats, no one could attest to being given a full tour of the Manor. "Then where else would we be?" Hermione asked.

"My apologies," Minerva swept into the room, her walking stick and heels echoing off the wood floor. "And to answer your question, Hermione, we are not at McGonagall Manor."

Hermione's eyes darted to Minerva, and she was surprised to see the Headmistress look…fine for lack of a better word. The large gash down the left side of her face, gone…her steps and movements were made with ease as she strode up the room. It was as if Minerva had not been a duel for her life less than 24 hours ago.

Before anyone else could ask a question, a trail of persons, the Harrisons', Pomona, Filius, and five other persons Hermione didn't recognize followed Minerva into the room and magically several additional chairs appeared down the length of the table.

At once, Minerva drew herself into a chair, eyes sweeping across the group. Harry and Ginny Potter, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Ron and Hermione Weasley, George Weasley, Angelia Johnson, Neville and Luna Longbottom, Percy Weasley, Bill and Fleur Weasley, Helena and Harold Harrison, Hagrid, Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick, Poppy Pomfry, Charlie Weasley, Aberforth Dumbledore, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas and a few persons that she knew no one save her, the Harrison's, and Pomona and Filius would know; Percival and Audrey McDore, Tessa and Malcom O'Connell, and Rory Wallace.

"Let me start by saying that I fear if you do not know our present location, your curiosity regarding our present location will remain." She cleared her throat, "Now…for those of you who have not heard or by chance not seen this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, I was in a wizard's duel..."

Helena whistled, "Wizard's duel, dear…it'll be another two weeks before the street is fully repaired."

"Not according to the Prophet." Arthur said, chuckling.

"Can't say we have that happening on the Alley every day, but it was wicked cool, none the less." George stated.

"It was fantastic." The words fell from Hermione's lips before she could stop them, and she found herself staring into emerald eyes…

Eyes that seemed momentarily taken back by the comment as they remained fixed on hers for several seconds before once again tracking the conversation with a look of indifference. If she were just watching her face alone, and not privy to the rest of the conversation, Hermione may have believed that Minerva was sitting through a staff meeting at Hogwarts.

"I have to ask, Minerva." Helena leaned forward, her blue eyes sparkling at her friend's quirky sense of humor. "Those weren't really coins from the Weasley's joke shop, were they?"

Minerva found her mouth twitching at Helena's question, mirth lining her eyes. "I couldn't recall if those coins were from Gringott's or the Weasley's; and thought it best to state they had been from the latter and not the former."

"Bloody marvelous." Ron muttered.

"I'm sure the Goblins are in an uproar, Minerva." Arthur stated.

Bill nodded at his father's comment, "They called everyone in last night and began going over the enchantment process looking for flaws."

"I can assure you, Bill. No flaws will be found." Minerva stated, "I had an extensive meeting with Griphook last evening and again this morning."

"How did you transfigure the coins?" Hermione asked, "The enchantments prevent any tampering of the base metals."

"Precisely." Minerva replied.

"You aren't going to tell us, are you?" Harry asked crisply.

"No, Harry. I will not be sharing that small nugget of information."

George cracked a huge grin, "Wicked." He shook his red head, "And thanks, McG, for the plug for the shop."

"Quite welcome George."

He tilted his head, "Though now we'll have to invent a whole new line…"

"I have no doubt that you will work something out."

George nodded, "Already got ideas…"

After several more minutes of chatter, the conversation began steering toward the reason why Minerva had called the meeting and not about her duel in Diagon Alley but rather, whom she had been dueling, and why.

"I think I speak for everyone, when I say that I was very relieved to see you alright, Minerva. But, I don't believe Kingsley's statement in Prophet this morning that your duel was of a personal nature, and I am quite curious as to why were you dueling in Diagon Alley, and who were you dueling against?" Hermione asked.

"The man I was dueling is named, Johannes Harkiss." At this bit of news, a handful of persons' faces flinched.

"Who is he?" Hermione asked, eyes snapping from Minerva to one of the few who seemed to know.

"I…" Minerva paused and forced herself to take a deep breath, her eyes sweeping down the length of the table. _So many faces…only a small handful knew the truth about Johannes and her daughter. Even less of the group congregated around the table knew the truth about her life. The truth…_she felt her stomach churn…her world closing in…and then she found her eyes resting on a set of chocolate brown ones…

Eyes that were not staring at her as a teacher, or that of a mentor, but that wishing to understand…as a friend. Eyes that had once gazed up so innocently at her…and brought her back from the brink…and Minerva found herself doing what she had not been able to do in thirteen years, she sought a moment of solace in the warm gaze…"He married my daughter seventeen years ago, Esmerele, and killed her six years later." Several sharp intakes of breath could be heard, "He has since returned, and our duel yesterday was regarding his belief that Hogwarts contains a veritable source of magical secrets that are the key to unlimited power."

"Daughter? Blimey…who was your husband?" Ron asked the question almost everyone was burning to know.

"I'm afraid that information is not pertinent, Ronald."

"Do we know him?" Harry asked over the soft murmuring.

"I believe most of you knew or had heard of my husband, however, he has been dead for some time."

"Do you have any other children?" Ginny asked.

Minerva felt her patience waning, "Yes…" She cleared her throat, "And as most of you may not know of my personal life, let me give _all_ of you a few parliamentary details so we can get back to why I called this meeting." She pulled her arms up, forearms now above the table, fingers interlaced. Her Scottish lilt becoming fairly pronounced as she spoke, "I had four wonderful children, two daughters and two sons. However, I lost Callum and his wife, Elizabeth and my grand-daughter, Brianna, to the first war with Voldemort. My husband died in the second war." At this she paused, and blinked back the threatening tears. "Esmerele was killed four weeks after my husband's death and…" Her fingers tightened against each other, "She died in my arms…her last breaths trying to warn me of her husband's deeds."

"Minerva." Aberforth's deep voice cut across the room and through everyone's startled thoughts. "Are you sure it was Johannes?"

The elder wizard and witch shared a quiet moment, all eyes watching the two before she gave a silent nod. "I am quite certain, Aberforth."

"Has he renewed his connections with any of the surviving death eaters?" Harold asked, eyes knitting together, his concern plainly evident across his face.

Most of the room blanched at the question, Minerva merely met his gaze, unwavering. "It will only be a matter of time."

"Dear Merlin." Arthur said, "Your son-in-law was a death eater?"

"No," She whispered, "But after killing my daughter, he sought refuge in their ranks."

"How can you be certain?" Harry asked.

"I am rather adept as a spy, Harry." She stated dryly.

"But why come back now?"

Minerva's eyes darted to Poppy and then Helena before she quietly uttered. "He believed I was dead."

Helena chuckled, "I'm sure after yesterday's duel, he has thought otherwise."

"Quite." She said.

"But that doesn't explain his reasoning, Minerva." Hermione stated eyes remaining fixed on the Headmistress. "Unless there is something you have not told us."

Minerva didn't bat an eyelash as she met Hermione's penetrating gaze, though she could feel every other pair of eyes land upon her. "I survived a near fatal wound shortly after my husband's death. He believed that my survival was because of knowledge contained within the Heart of Hogwarts. He longs to have the perceived magic that saved my life, believing that it can be harnessed to suit his own ambition. And regarding his believe in my death, Hermione," She brought her green eyes back to the young witch's, "He is aware that my wound was healed, but it has left a lasting mark that he believed had resulted in my death. Obviously, he was quite mistaken."

Hermione felt her world stop as Minerva's words resonated through her…_She had been almost fatally wounded…survived, but it had left its mark…did she mean that is why she now used a cane?_

"Surely…" Molly turned to Helena, "You have seen her, and are able to counter the spell's effect."

Hermione felt a measure of relief course through her…_Of course Minerva would have seen Helena...she's the best healer this side of the Atlantic…_

Helena was the picture of serenity as over twenty pairs of eyes landed upon her. "I am afraid that Minerva's care is strictly confidential." A wave of murmurings started, but Helena continued on, "I know each of you care for her welfare, but I cannot talk about what type of treatment she received. Merely be thankful she survived."

"What kind of answer is that?" Bill asked, a frown curling along the corners of his mouth.

Helena turned to the once handsome younger wizard, whose scarred face bore a deep look of concern. "I'm afraid Mr. Weasley; it is the only answer I can give."

Harry turned to the Headmistress, "You were supposed to be dead, weren't you?"

"This is not about me, Harry." Minerva stated, drawing a flurry of heartfelt looks to her, "Nor did I bring each of you here to talk about my past, nor about my health. However, I did bring you all together to talk about the safety of not only Hogwarts, but of the wizarding world."

"But how can you ask us to ignore what…" Hermione's voice vanished, as did the rest of the rooms chatter as Minerva leaned forward.

"Quite simply…" Her eyes drilling into Hermione…taking the younger witch's breath away, "I am not dead, nor did I die when this occurred. Yes, I have to what amounts to a medical nuisance since that day, but until now, it has obviously gone unnoticed and will remain so after today as I have absolutely no intention of sharing it with any of you." Her words were like a slap in the face, "I appreciate all of your concern, however, we must turn our attention to far more pressing matters than my health. And that is Johannes Harkiss. His presence will cause many deaths here in England."

Aberforth cut any other questions short. "Minerva is right; this man is quite capable of becoming someone who will shake the foundations of our world."

"But Kingsley's statement expressed that your duel was of a personal nature…not of great import." Percy began…

"Did the two of you not meet last eve?" Arthur asked concerned.

Minerva sighed, gently running her hand along her forehead, willing her headache to remain at bay, "We talked, and he was insistent on believing that my motives for reactivating the Order was personal."

"To discount your word…" Rory's deep highland dialect reflective in his tone, "You've been friends for years…I'm beginning to wonder if becoming the Minister of Magic oblivates a person's common sense?"

"Does he know you've called a meeting?" Harry asked trying to gauge what the mood at the Ministry would be like later this morning, in addition to trying to determine how bad the meeting between the Minister and Headmistress went last evening.

"It, amongst several other details was discussed yesterday."

"From his statement and your lackluster response, I'm going to guess that you and he did not end on good terms." Helena stated with an inward groan. Discord between Hogwarts and the Ministry was never a good sign, and it gave her nothing but a continual stream of headaches.

"We did not." Minerva succinctly replied.

"So much for a quiet few months." Ron mumbled. "The Minister will be bent on proving you wrong Professor."

"I agree," Harry stated eyeing the revered witch, "He will want anyone who works there to keep him posted on the Order's activities."

Minerva's voice drifted heart wrenchingly along the walls, "If I could be so lucky…be proven wrong, to not have Johannes kill an innocent soul…" And then she straightened upright, any sign of doubt gone from her visage, "As a dear friend once said, constant vigilance. I seek to reactivate the Order of Phoenix."

Charlie said as he leaned forward in his chair. "I vote to reactivate the Order."

"I would rather be safe than sorry." Neville stated.

"Aye," Malcolm joined in, "If ye say he's back…" He nodded, "The Order does need reactivating."

"I move to call it to a vote." Percival's clipped cadence caused a few brows to be raised.

"How many of you wish to reactivate the Order?" Minerva asked, the air momentarily becoming stale in her lungs.

Hermione watched as one by one the entire room agreed…and she found herself staring at the elder, emerald clad witch with more questions now, than when the meeting had begun.

"Very well." Minerva stated, "I will send each of you a folder with the information that has been collected on what we know of Johannes' activities…"

"You've already done reconnaissance?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I have tracked Johannes for years, Harry, and as such, have a rather extensive file on him." A few murmurings started as she continued on, "I never said that I did not have a personal interest, only that my reasons for activating the Order were not personally motivated."

"I would be most interested in seeing your reconnaissance, Minerva." Harold stated, "As I am sure you have prior associations included."

"Of course." She replied, "I would suggest initially watching the Carrow's."

Harry nodded, "Right, then." He cast a glance to Ron, "We'll take a gander this evening…" He shot George a look, "You and Percy mind taking tomorrow?"

George nodded, "No worries mate."

Slowly a rotation was derived for watching the Carrow's home for the next two weeks…

"And what of securing Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"The wards will be reset…" Minerva began.

"But he may still gain access." Angelina piped up.

"A concern to be sure," Filius squeaked, "But my greater worry is regarding your safety, Minerva."

Nods of agreement swept around the table.

"I assure you, that I am safe while at Hogwarts." Minerva stated. "Not counting that four of you are Professors at the school."

Harry nodded, "True, but if he believes that there is a secret to immortality locked within Hogwarts, then it will only be a matter of time before he attempts to gain entrance. The more eyes the better. For not only Hogwarts' safety, the children, but yours as well."

Pomona seized the lull in conversation, "Have you found a person to replace Willard?"

All eyes turned to Minerva, "As I'm sure you are aware Pomona," She cast a knowing look at Filius, "The final interviews are this afternoon."

"I would recommend we have a member of the Order replace Willard for a year." Percival stated.

Minerva was momentarily speechless by the auburn haired wizard's comment. The rest of the room, though, was quite taken with the idea. Finally finding her voice, Minerva's clipped tone silenced the room. "I will not have just anyone teaching at Hogwarts."

"What subject did Willard teach?" Audrey's soft question interjected.

"Transfiguration." Neville stated.

At once, Minerva's comment made sense. Transfiguration. It wasn't Defense Against the Dark Arts, which albeit challenging, did not take as much skill. Nor was it Muggle Studies…even Care of Magical Creatures…no it was the one class that did require an enormous amount of skill and proficiency to teach.

"Surely, there must be someone here who has the necessary skills to teach the class?" Helena stated.

Neville turned to Hermione, "Feel up to teaching Transfiguration for a year?"

Hermione swallowed, hard. "I…"

"A most excellent solution, Neville." Filius squeaked.

"Well, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione felt her world shift, _to teach at Hogwarts? She may have considered it…once. But now…she was in the middle of ensuring equal rights for all magical creatures… _"I…" She turned to Harry, his eyes pleading with her. She felt a frown curling at the corner of her mouth. She took an unsettling breath, "Don't know if I would qualify, Neville."

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione." Filius shifted in his chair as he continued on, "Of course you would be qualified to teach transfiguration. If I'm not mistaken, your newts were only three points behind Minerva's…and equal to that of Albus' in transfiguration. You would make a fine addition to our staff."

Minerva found herself moderately pleased at the notion, Filius was right; Hermione would make an excellent addition to the staff. Even if it was only for one year. Still, she could see the hesitation written plainly on the younger witch's face. "I would like to remind each of you, that while Hermione would make an excellent Professor, we are asking her to put her life and career on temporary hold. And such a decision cannot be made spontaneously."

Hermione was grateful for Minerva's words…but she also knew that if she didn't go to Hogwarts and something happened…to Hogwarts…her beloved school, and to Minerva, she would never forgive herself. "I will take the post of Transfiguration for the next year."

Minerva eyed the young witch for a long moment, measuring the sincerity in her words, and then she gave her a curt nod. "Very well. I will need you to come by Hogwarts by Friday to go over some final details."

"How is tomorrow morning, say 8:00?" Hermione inquired.

Minerva nodded. "I shall see you then." A tender smile graced her lips. "And Hermione…I believe congratulations is in order."

The rest of the meeting passed quickly, and as Minerva called it to an end…a plate of odd trinkets appeared. "We'll reassemble in two weeks time," She waved to the tray, "Here are your portkeys." She stated, and stood herself. "Thank you all for coming. Be safe." And before another word was spoken to her, she was already half way across the room and within three more seconds, was opening the door and had stepped through it.

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the portkeys and then back to the door, which vanished in a flutter, leaving a solid wood wall and a large tapestry hanging where the door once stood. Everyone else was already grabbing their portkeys…activating them…and disappearing…and Hermione merely eyed the muted colored tapestry as she realized how little she truly knew about Minerva McGonagall.

Pomona chuckled at the puzzled look upon Hermione's face, thinking that some things didn't change. Hermione didn't like mysteries as a student, nor apparently as an adult. "You'll have plenty of time to ask her where 'here' is while at Hogwarts this year, dear." Pomona stated as she stepped next to Filius.

"And we aren't at her Manor?" Hermione asked.

"No dear, we aren't." Pomona replied.

"But you know where we are?"

The only response she received were warm smiles from both the witch and wizard.

"And you aren't going to tell me?"

"It's not in our power to tell you." Pomona replied.

"How long have you known her?" Hermione asked finally pulling her gaze from the tapestry to the only other occupants of the room.

"Since I started teaching at Hogwarts." Pomona replied.

"She is a remarkable witch, Hermione." Filius stated, as Pomona slipped her hand into his. "But she has good reason as to why so few know of her personal life."

"And why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked.

"Because the answers you seek can only come from her." Pomona stated.

"And they will be anything but easy to get." Filius finished and then waved his hand, a coin landing in his palm. "We shall be seeing you soon, Hermione."

"Good day and Congratulations." Pomona's voice barely reaching Hermione's ears before they winked away.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"What were you thinking, Hermione?" Ron's voice rising to match the color in his cheeks. "Where are Rose and Hugo going to go while you are teaching at Hogwarts?"

"I didn't realize that I was the presumed sole caregiver of _our_ children, Ron." Hermione rebutted.

Ron opened his mouth, sputtering. "You aren't…but you can't expect me to watch them…"

"And why not?" She asked, her voice climbing upwards an octave. "I've been watching both of our children for the past 9 months, except for the handful of weekends that you make yourself available."

"And you wouldn't have had to keep them if you hadn't left me."

"You pig-headed, ass-hole." Hermione snapped and at that point Ron realized he may have pushed too far.

"Hermione, I…" He tried to interject, but fury swept over her eyes.

"You what?! Can't be bothered to watch your children? Not that you watched them before you left, and since then…I have had to drag the children to that damn flat in London on the weekends, lest you forget about them. Because when I don't, they don't see you."

"Now wait a blooming minute, you are mixing our past…"

"_You_ brought up the past Ronald, not I." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting.

Ron swallowed, knowing that he was the one who pushed and she had been right in her statement. As much as he wished she hadn't been. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "I can't take care of Rose and Hugo the whole time."

"I didn't ask you too." Hermione's posture relaxed, "But you will need to watch them far more than you are use to."

"What…you think you'll be able to take them to Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"I don't know; that was one of the items I wanted to talk with McGonagall about in the morning." Hermione shrugged, "Besides, Mom has been hinting about having the kids visit and spend more time with them ever since they sold the practice at the beginning of summer. Maybe now would be a good time to take her up on the offer."

"Your parents…they'll get pretty tired of chasing after a 3 and 6 year old within the week," Ron predicted as he mentally pictured Hermione's parents trying to keep up with Hugo…accidental magic included.

"Not if Rose goes to school, that would only leave them Hugo." Hermione retorted.

"School?" Ron's voice had instantly rose two octaves, "As in a muggle school?" His face as red as his hair.

"Might I remind you Ronald Weasley, I went to a muggle school." Hermione could hear her own voice getting louder as she spoke. "I was, my parents are, and our children are part of a family of muggles. So yes…Ron, a muggle school. A place where she will continue to learn how to read and write. It's not as though you spend a lot of time teaching her." Throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated. "Geez Ron, sometimes you just don't think!"

"I..er…" Ron shuttered, at the cross look that now darkened her eyes. He had definitely dug himself into a gnome sized hole, and if he wasn't careful, it'd be large enough to swallow him whole. Sighing he ran his hand through his hair, scratching his head as he did. What he wouldn't give to be able to ask her what the hell he had done wrong. However, gone were the days where he could ask Hermione to explain what it was that he wasn't seeing. Especially since she was the one he was having difficulties understanding. But he also realized, if he didn't do something soon…"Hermione," Ron said quietly.

Hermione's eyes snapped to his at the sudden change in volume of his voice. "What?" she asked.

"I really miss you...ya know...as a a friend…" Ron's face had gone very pale except for the pink at the top of his ears.

Suddenly Hermione felt all the anger leave, "Me too Ron," She ran a hand through her own chestnut hair. "But we need to get this sorted."

"Aye, we do." He agreed, taking a step closer to her. "But we aren't going to get this sorted in an afternoon."

Hermione was mildly taken back by his declaration, and as he continued…she felt her heart warm at his words.

"How about I talk to my parents, you talk to yours, and we get together this weekend and see how we can put something together."

"Alright." She replied skeptically.

"Just…" He let a mild grin show, "Let's see if we can figure something out…other than a muggle school."

Hermione felt the laugh start low before bursting across her lips. "You're incorrigible."

"I'll take your response as a distinct possibility." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"We'll see." She said, patting his arm. "We'll see."

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Minister." A light haired, petite olive cloaked witch peeked her head around the corner, "I'm afraid to bother you, Sir. But there is a gentleman to see you. When I asked if he had an appointment, he merely said that he would wait the rest of the afternoon, if necessary. But he did intend to speak with you."

Kingsley frowned, "Did he give you a name?"

Her eyes knit together, "No, but he mentioned something about order business. Didn't make much sense."

At once Kingsley stood and was stepping around his desk. His navy robes whipping behind him. He knew Minerva had called an Order meeting, and he was quite surprised that none of the Order members had come to see him prior to now…unless the meeting just finished.

He stepped into the outer office, and felt a mixture of relief and surprise sweep over him as George Weasley stood up.

His shoulder length red hair tied back with a leather cord, his dragon hide boots clanking against the marbled floor, as his satin black outer cloak blocked the light from behind him. "Kingsley." George extended his hand, which Kingsley accepted with a shake.

"George." Kingsley stated, wondering what news George was about to impart to him. As he motioned towards his office, he believed that things may actually be looking up for the day. George would undoubtedly be telling him that Minerva's quest for personal vengeance did not go over well with most of the Order. And that only a handful, probably Potter with his over bearing sense of loyalty, Ron and Hermione out of loyalty to Potter, and maybe one or two others would follow the once venerable Headmistress. It would be welcome bit of news, one that would ease his headache tremendously.

Since the Prophet's article this morning, he had been in meetings since seven. And in every meeting, it boiled down to the same question, was he absolutely sure that McGonagall's duel had been personally motivated? He had sent over some of his staff to the Prophet in the morning demanding they rebuke the comment about McGonagall.

His head still ached from the three dozen howler response they sent.

Stepping around his desk, he breathed a sigh. Definitely not how he had planned his day, but…he fought back a minute grin, it was looking better by the second.

"What can I do for you this afternoon George?" He sat down, pulling his chair forward.

George sat down, his robes flourishing around him as he leveled his gaze at the Minister. "I don't have a lot of time, Minister, so let me come straight to the point."

Kingsley leaned forward, unable to suppress the grin any further.

"You may first want to start by erasing that grin from your face, Minister."

_Perhaps this isn't going to go as well as I hoped,_ Kingsley thought as his smile fell from his face.

"And I have to wonder, what in Merlin's beard must have gotten into your brain to have such an outlandish notion printed in the Prophet about McGonagall." George shook his head, "She spoke with you last night, told you about the problem, and you thought it best to believe her motives were personal? Are you daft as well as dumb, or are both of those prerequisites to being Minister?"

"That'll be all, Mr. Weasley." Kingsley snapped.

"Or what? You'll close my shop? That'll make a splashy headline – Minister's motives challenged, Wheezies' closed." George leaned forward, his lithe body radiating power. "I don't work for you, Minister. Nor do the members of the Order who are going to follow through."

Brown eyes narrowed at the comment, "She reactivated the Order?"

"If the she you're referring to is McGonagall, then yes. She did." Bright blue eyes sparkled against the light, "And save for those working at the Ministry, we willingly answered her call."

"I don't believe that Potter, your father and brother wouldn't join if the Order was reactivated. And how is that you're here? Are you doing her bidding already?"

"I'm here because I don't work for you, for the Headmistress, nor any person in between. I'm here for the sole purpose of telling you, how _I_ feel. And that is for you to get your head out of your ass before people get killed." George stood, a smile now tugging at his lips. "And as for who is and isn't in the Order, believe what you will. But know this, not one member of the Order doubts the Headmistresses story."

Kingsley stood, his voice shaking in rage. "You're going to believe McGonagall's, it's for the safety of the wizarding world over the fact that her daughter was killed by the man."

"You obviously were not a Gryffindor for then you would know without reproach that McGonagall doesn't allow her personal feelings to get involved, no matter how personal it may have gotten. Nor could you have been in Hufflepuff as you have no loyalty." George stated and turned to leave.

"You will need to speak with the Magical Law Enforcement on your way out about the coins you gave McGonagall." He said through gritting teeth.

George paused, his hand on the door as he cast a look back at Kingsley. "I'd rather not." He reached into his robe, "Here. Have one yourself." He flipped a gold coin to the Minister. "After all," George opened the door, "You gave me the idea." He finished and then stepped through the door, not bothering to look back.

Kingsley caught the coin, and if possible felt his headache double in a heartbeat. The coin had a rotation of faces of the Minister's of Magic and beneath the faces scrolled the words; fool or idealist? His face always timed with the word fool…

_A/N: Drop me a note; I do love your feedback. See you next week ;)_


	6. Chapter 5 August 6, 2009

**Chapter 5 ~ August 6****th****, 2009**

Hermione stepped in front of the Gargoyle and felt as though she had stepped back through tine. It stood, staring straight ahead unflinching…untouched by the passage of time. For a moment she felt like a she was a student at Hogwarts again, who had been summoned to see the Headmaster. Clearing her throat as she shook the feeling, Hermione stated the password she had received with this morning's mail. "Highland Haven."

"Good morning, Ms. Granger." The gargoyle's guttural voice raked before springing to the side.

Frowning at the Gargoyle's phrase, she stepped onto the staircase. She had, of course, sent in the paperwork to revert back to her maiden name…but no one knew, save for Ron, Ginny and Harry.

The staircase rolled to a stop, and she found herself staring at the weathered door of the Headmistress' suite. Raising her hand, Hermione went to knock, but the door opened before she could touch the wood.

"Come in, Hermione." Minerva said, glancing up from her desk. Hermione stepped in, eyes sweeping across the chamber as she marveled at the similarities and differences between the current Headmistress and the previous Headmaster's tastes.

Books, it seemed, were at the corner of both their tastes. Perhaps that was one reason why they had been such good friends, Hermione reasoned as she tried to swallow her envy at the library housed within the Headmistress' suite. It seemed, that some of the books, and bookshelves were from when Dumbledore was the Headmaster, but there were also new bookshelves…and tombs of books, that had Hermione wishing for a solid month, locked away in the room, without distractions…

"Salivating on the books, dear, doesn't help the ink on the page." Minerva said, chuckling as she stood.

"I…" Hermione fought back the blush, "You have a marvelous collection, or is this part of Hogwarts? Because, unless I'm mistaken weren't a few of the books here when Dumbledore was Headmaster."

"Very observant, Hermione." Minerva motioned to the chairs. "However, these books belong to the McGonagall library, and upon his death, he willed several of his books to me. Or…" She smiled at the forgotten memory, "Finally sought fit to return a handful of the ones he had permanently borrowed."

Hermione took her seat, eyes still riveted on the books, "How large is the McGonagall library?"

Minerva paused, and seemed to gaze about the room as if trying to gauge how many books were within the room versus how many remained at her Manor. "I should say just a wee bit larger than what is here."

A distinct cough could be heard from behind them causing both witches to turn…and Hermione seemed mildly concerned and Minerva irritated at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. "Sorry…" He wheezed, holding up a bag of lemon drops. "Choked."

Hermione chuckled, "I guess some things don't change."

"No…" Minerva said, giving Albus a scathing look. He merely smiled, reached into his bag and popped another lemon drop into his mouth. "Some things don't."

At Minerva's momentary distraction, Hermione quickly took in the rest of the room and noticed that some of the same trinkets or very similar ones that Dumbledore had on his shelves rested upon hers. However, instead of the orderly chaos that seemed to evoke his presence, the room spoke of a meticulousness…that one would only associate with Minerva McGonagall. There were parchments atop her desk…but you could tell there was a method to how she had them sorted…

"I hate to rush this morning, Hermione." Minerva stated, crossing her legs beneath her. "But I am to be at Gringotts by 9 for a press conference."

Hermione brought her focus back to McGonagall, and felt her heart stop. She looked like she had hardly aged a day since Hermione's time as a student. Her eyes glistened in the soft morning light…radiating strength and assurance. Her ebony hair…held only a few strands of grey as it rested upon her head in its traditional bun. "I take it, the Minister is looking for more reassurances than your simple word these days."

Minerva scoffed, "To put it mildly."

Any reservations she had felt about the meeting vanished at Minerva's free dialect. She had a way to put you at ease, should she choose, and Hermione found a smile tugging at her lips. "Then you won't be conducting a reenactment for both the Ministry and Gringotts?"

"I'm afraid I haven't been back to the Weasley's to purchase some more coins since the other morning. Though," She nodded, "you do bring about an excellent idea. One I might be inclined to partake in, if I have but a few moments to stop by the Wheezies this morning." Minerva leaned forward as a tray of tea and biscuits appeared. "Tea?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Of course, but how did you know that the tea would be coming when it did?"

Minerva gingerly poured Hermione a cup and then herself, "I have worked here for decades, and can tell when the house elves are using their magic." She leaned back, "Now, let us take care of the difficult items first, shall we?"

Hermione nodded, wondering what Minerva thought would be the _difficult_ items…

"Your pay." Minerva stated.

Hermione almost choked at the Headmistress' bluntness. "I…" She paused to wipe the small amount of spilled tea off the front of her robes. "I didn't come here…"

Minerva merely cocked an eyebrow, waiting. "Surely you didn't think I would have you teach here for a year, and not pay you."

"No…I just assumed…"

"Assumed, what? That all the teachers are paid the same amount? And that you would receive what everyone else did?" She asked.

"Yeah…no…" She shook her head clearing her thoughts; "I didn't take the position for the money, Headmistress."

Minerva sighed, "As previously discussed…Minerva is more than adequate."

Hermione watched as the other woman's shoulders sagged a bit…and she felt horrible. "I didn't mean to offend…Minerva…it's just," She paused, and met the emerald gaze with her own. "I meant the term out of respect."

Minerva nodded, "Quite, but I grow weary of the abominable phrase."

At this, there was a flurry of nods and agreements alike from the portraits around the room.

Hermione frowned, "I…'m sorry. I didn't realize."

Minerva shook her head, "As the Headmistress or in some instances, Headmaster, people stop seeing you as anything other than the heralded position and no longer as a person. I merely ask the staff to remember that I am a person beneath the position."

Hermione found herself nodding, "Of course."

"And regarding your salary…" Minerva's voice softened, "If I'm not mistaken, your salary through the Ministry last year was 12,473 galleons."

"How'd you know? Those records were supposed to be sealed." Hermione felt her cheeks burning at the notion that someone had that information. Even Ron didn't know what she had made last year.

Minerva continued on as though not paying attention, "A fair salary for what you did, though, if I may say a bit under priced."

"Under priced…" Hermione was reeling…

"You should have asked for more, Hermione. They would have paid." She stated with knowing eyes. "Now, a base position at Hogwarts typically starts at 11,100 galleons."

_11,100 galleons…no wonder why none of the professors ever leave Hogwarts,_ Hermione thought as she starred dumbfounded at the emerald clad witch.

"With your experience and aptitude in the field…although not much experience in the way of teaching…" She narrowed her eyes, the light glinting off her glasses. "I should think 15,500 galleons with the additional duties of head of Gryffindor house to be fair. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione was speechless. _15,500 galleons…bloody hell. _Slowly her eyes began focusing back to the witch opposite of her. "I…" She opened her mouth, only to find that words wouldn't come. "Wow." She finally managed to say. It had taken her twelve years to achieve the salary she had at the Ministry. Twelve years of backbreaking work, long days, and even longer weeks.

Minerva could understand how the younger witch felt; she had been there once too. As had all the other professors who graced the fabled halls of Hogwarts. The salary of a Hogwart's professor was as closely guarded as the vaults of Gringotts'. Granted, once the offer was extended, there was a subsequent charm and binding contract that prevented a current or previous professor from disclosing their salary, at least accurately anyways. Prior to becoming the Deputy Headmistress, when she had been asked how much she made annually at Hogwarts, she would find the figure differed exponentially…all well below the true amount. It wasn't until later she learned of the truth and the reason…a person must _want_ to teach, not for the money but to educate and sculpt the minds of future generations.

"I never believed a Hogwart's professor made that much." Hermione breathed out.

"Nor does the rest of the wizarding world." Minerva replied, "As there is a confundus charm that protects everyone's wage at Hogwarts."

"You want teachers to be here for the children and not the wage." Hermione stated, appreciatively.

Minerva was reminded of how truly bright the woman was. "As we pay more than every entry and mid-level Ministry position…and St. Mungos, it would be rather unwise for us to flaunt how much our staff does make."

"I've always wondered how you've kept the turnover so low. No wonder…better pay…room and board…ability to continue to work in their field of choice…" Hermione whistled low, "Out smarting the Ministry yet again."

Minerva smiled into her cup, "On occasion, we do try."

Hermione felt the laugh rumble low in her chest, "And succeed more times than not."

Minerva set her cup down, "Then I take it the salary is equitable."

Hermione nodded, "Quite, Minerva."

"Now…I'm sure there was much discussion with Ronald about how your children, Rose and Hugo would be cared for during the year."

It was like she had practiced legilimency on her… "Yes…we discussed…how do you know what you do?"

Hermione almost blinked at the sight before her…it was like stepping back in time and gazing at Dumbledore's eyes…the way they twinkled, as if her eyes had been lit from within.

"I'm the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Hermione…" her eyes sparkling even more in the soft morning light, "I'm supposed to be all knowing, remember?"

"Right." Hermione stated, "How's that work most days?"

"Better than you would believe, dear." Minerva quipped, "Now, regarding your children, what arrangements have you made?"

"We are both speaking with our parents to see if we can work something out. We didn't know if they would be able to come to Hogwarts or how often I will be able to leave."

"Yes, they can not only come to visit, they may stay. There would of course have to be a few modifications and rules for both you and them to follow, but it is far from unprecedented. Many children of the professors have been raised here over the years. Now, the professors are able to leave every fourth weekend on a rotation. It is for the whole of the weekend, from Friday evening until Monday morning's classes. There are of course times when a breath of fresh air is needed, and an evening out in Hogsmeade or even that of London may be necessary and that is of course, quite understandable."

In as many seconds, Hermione felt her world turn upside down. To be able to have her children at Hogwarts… She felt tears building at the backs of her eyes, "It's more than I could have hoped for."

The next half an hour was spent with Minerva and Hermione talking curricula, the owl and newt level practicum, and the expectations of a professor. At a quarter till nine, the door swung open and Filius stepped through.

"Minerva, Hermione." He stated, giving both a curt nod.

"Ah, I fear I must depart and leave you with Filius for a final tour and to show you to your chambers." Minerva stated, standing.

"Minerva…thank you." Hermione said, heartfelt.

Minerva stretched out her hand…the sun splaying through the glass, streaming down on her emerald clad robes, glinting off her ebony hair…her eyes twinkling as they gazed down on the younger witch… "You are more than welcome, Hermione." Hermione's hand stretching out to meet hers… "And welcome to Hogwarts." Their fingers meeting, in a friendly handshake…and a magical pulse shot between them…

The portraits on the wall all jumped…

Hermione retracted her hand as if burnt…and Minerva felt as if her chest had been carved open, pain enveloping all of her senses…like the day Albus had died…

"Minerva?" Hermione asked shaking her hand, worry beginning to seep into her bones. _What the devil had just happened?_ Minerva seemed to be shaking…and she stretched out her hand…

Filius joining suite on the other side of McGonagall…

"I shall be fine." Minerva breathed out, forcing her eyes open as she willed the tears to remain at bay. "Hermione, are you hurt?"

She shook her head, "No, but what…was that?"

"Filius, if you would be so kind and give Hermione the tour, I am running quite late."

Hermione stood dumbfounded at Minerva. "Aren't you going to tell me what in the hell that was?"

Minerva forced the words from her tightening lungs, "I am sorry Hermione, the wards within Hogwarts just realigned, and the pulse was the magic from the wards coming back to me." A weak smile crossed her face, "Apparently it creates an ill time for a handshake. My sincerest apologies."

Hermione felt her eyes frown, portraying her doubt, but _then again…what else could it have been? _"Are you sure you're alright?"

Minerva could feel the sweat running down her back, "Yes, fine thank you. I do hope I'll see you before the 17th, and if not, then may you enjoy the last of your summer."

Hermione nodded, "You too, Minerva." She replied before turning to leave. Filius already beginning to amiably chat about the location of her rooms, and that although they were up in the tower, they had a most splendid view. Minerva barely heard the door snap shut, when she crumpled to her knees…hands to her chest…head tipped back as tears slipped out from her eyes.

"Aghhhhhhhh." She groaned…the pain throbbing, ripping…

"Shall I get Poppy?" Dilys asked anxiously.

Albus didn't take his eyes off of Minerva, "No. She can do nothing." Albus breathed. "Though, Merlin how I wish she could."

"What is happening to her?" Snape asked.

"Something to do with the bonding, I fear." Albus breathed.

"Merlin's beard…" Everard whispered eyes riveted to the scene before them. "What would cause this…?"

"I can hear you…" Minerva's tired voice breathed out; she said resting her palms on her legs.

"Fancy lot of good it does too." Fortescue berated.

"Minerva…are you alright?" Albus asked, concern evident.

Taking another series of deep breaths before answering, "Next time, I die and you get to live, you old coot." She muttered leaning back, wisps of hair falling from her bun.

Severus chuckled, "She's on the road to recovery."

"To spare you this pain, I would do whatever you ask, love." Albus responded.

"Save us your pitiful words." Phineas sneered.

"I'm afraid, each of you are stuck with me for it seems a bit longer." Minerva dryly retorted, pulling herself upright.

A wave of relieved sighs and a solitary grunt from Phineas echoed from the room. "Though, I cherish the notion of you becoming immortalized here with us, dear." Dilys said, "We do so much enjoy you as the Headmistress."

Minerva waved her hand, her wand easily floating into it. At once she cast a set of spells, and her robes were fresh and hair immaculate, with her hat perched atop. Her eyes darted to the clock; she had but three minutes to be at Gringotts. Shaking her head at the time, and lack of time to decipher what exactly happened was nothing she could fix now.

"Oh…Minerva." Everard popped to a lower frame. "You should know that Kingsley is going to ask you to try and transfigure Gringotts' coins."

Minerva nodded, "Thank you Everard." She turned to Fortescue, "You may wish to visit your frame in Gringotts. Apparently, I'll be putting on a show." She finished with a wink and then she pulled the wards to her…bent them…morphed…and with a quiet pop, was gone.

A murmur swept through the portraits, Dumbledore and Fortescue already gone, as each of the others wished they could go. After all…it wasn't every day that Minerva McGonagall went to have fun.

xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoo

Minerva shook her head as the portraits continued their interrogation of Fortescue about her morning activities at Gringotts, and they would have interrogated Dumbledore too, but he had yet to return…to the main office.

"Did she really?" Dilys chuckled…

She was sure Everard's deep belly laugh could be heard throughout Hogwarts.

Even Snape had an appreciative look across his face as he muttered, "Serves Kingsley right."

Minerva continued walking through the office, ignoring the commentary, and swept up the staircase to her private chambers. No sooner had she closed the door, and she let out a sigh of relief. It had truly been a long day.

Not only was there the business at Gringotts…but then she and Kingsley had had words, again.

She walked through the large sitting area and veered to the left, past the loo, to where her bedroom was located. With a wave, the door opened…she entered, peeling her hat off as she did. With a gentle toss…and practiced ease, the hat floated to its perch on the hat rack.

"You look tired." Albus said from his small portrait across from her bed.

"Aye…I am." She slipped off her outer cloak. Eyes turning to Albus, "This morning, have any theories?"

"I'm sure you have several by now, my dear." He stated.

She moved to her wardrobe and hung up her robe, before taking up residence in one of the two chairs along the eastern wall, next to the windows. She began talking as she extracted her hairpins from her bun. "None that make sense."

"What did it feel like?" He inquired.

At this, Minerva's hands momentarily faltered. "Like the day you died, Albus." Her voice faltered, "I felt like I was back in that hallway…when death was seeping through me…" She brought her eyes back up to his, "Ripping out my chest…" She pulled the last of the pins out, her hair falling down.

"If I'm not mistaken, you said that evening, when you felt the bond shatter and a different one form, during that time period Hermione was being chased by two death eaters."

Minerva nodded, "Yes…" She narrowed her eyes at the memory. "I only have a vague recollection of that time, even when I looked at the memory through the pensive, it was distorted and missing seconds. I recalled seeing her face, two death eaters chasing her, I have no recollection of what spells I cast. But the magic that swept through me, I remember it was overwhelming…powerful, not that our bonding didn't generate extreme depths of magic, but…this had left me paralyzed. It had been so strong…" Her eyes glazed over as she remembered how her body hummed…the magic of Hogwarts sweeping through her…pulsing…merging with her own…as her heart burst in pain at her husband's death. "I don't know how long I stood there, the next conscious thought I had was when I felt a jolt…" She blinked, "Like the one earlier, but nowhere near as intense. When Hermione touched me." She stood, running her hand through her hair, "Dear Merlin…that night, Hogwarts…" The pieces were sinking in, she paused mid-step and eyes snapped to Albus. "The magic…" Her voice faltered as her hand came up to her lips. "Dear God, Albus, the bonding."

Albus nodded, "She may have inadvertently had a hint of magic bound to yours." He reached up and pulled his glassed from his nose, "But why would it react now? Surely, you have touched Hermione over the past thirteen years."

Minerva let her hands drop, "The bond sustaining me…" Her voice became unearthly quiet. "I'm dying Albus. There is less and less of my magic…"

"How much is Hogwarts sustaining you?" He asked.

"Far more than Poppy, Helena or the children believe." She shook her head as if dispelling the notion, "I have of course, given her hugs, handshakes…"

"What if the bond with Hogwarts was more than your body could take…" Albus began.

"And when Hermione touched me…"

"Some of the magic spilled over…"

"And when we touched this morning…"

"Hogwarts was withdrawing its magic…as it senses you are not well…" Albus put his glasses back on.

"And is trying to do what it can to protect…me." She quietly finished.

He nodded, "And will continue protecting you until you are either dead or have replaced the bond…that saved you…continues to save you…and is also killing you." He breathed out a deep breath; "Tabby…there is also the distinct possibility, that Hogwarts is trying to bond you."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione glanced down at her fingers…it had been hours since the incident at Hogwarts. The tips of her fingers were still red as if magically burnt…and when performing simple spells…it was just a twinge harder…

Shaking her head at the nonsense flooding her mind…she ran a hand through chestnut hair. She still had much to do before she went to bed, but…she paused…eyes closing for a moment. It would do no harm. The children were at the Potters…she let out a deep breath. She could feel the tension leaving her shoulders…she cocked her head to the right…pausing…to the left…pausing.

She began wondering what Minerva wasn't telling them, other than her husband's name. Which she had already begun a search for…surely there was some record, somewhere. Especially since she had children. Their father's name would be on the birth records…

Esmerel's birth record…of course.

Snapping her eyes open, she jumped up and was already throwing floo powder in the fire. "St. Mungos." And was engulfed in green flames.

She said hello to a half dozen persons on her way to the record department, before bidding good evening to Viola.

"A bit late to be stopping by?"

"Yes, but I was wondering if I could rummage through the birth records for a bit."

Viola nodded, "Of course…just put things back as you found them. Alright?"

Hermione was already walking down the long rows…and didn't stop until she found the McGo volume. At once she began pulling out the volumes…and felt her heart beating excitedly as she flipped the pages. Her eyes scanned down the text…and there was Minerva…her brother's names…her parents…but there was nothing… "You fool…" Hermione mumbled to herself, "That's because she would have her children's names under her husband's name."

She quickly filed the thick leather tomb and went down two more rows and another fifty paces…to the records of the deceased. Her eyes scanned down the volumes…and she pulled out the Hark volume…and flipped the pages until her eyes landed on the image of Esmerel Harkiss. She was strikingly beautiful, black hair and green eyes…

Hermione's eyes darted down the page…and the details surrounding her death. Which Hermione turned her head away for a moment trying to imagine finding her daughter like Minerva had found hers. The birth name was mysteriously left blank. As was all the other family information…save for the name of the immediate family member who identified the body. Mother – Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione sunk to the floor…her fingers aching…

"Who is it that you were married to…that you would go to such lengths to keep it hidden from all?" Hermione breathed out…exasperated at the dead end.

_Note: Stole asouldreams' zipdrive so I could go ahead and post this chapter a little early, as its more intro than action. (Maybe if she doesn't kill me I can convince her to post the next chapter a little earlier than next Friday also.)_

_Please leave reviews. It is helpful to all writers and readers to see what others are taking away from the material. (Also I know for a fact there is a correlation between reviews and productivity, i.e., the more reviews received ~ the more time she finds to write ~ the faster the next chapter gets written, and then uploaded. (Except during training weeks when nothing much else gets done)._

_Enjoy ~ cat_


	7. Chapter 6 August 14, 2009

_A/N: Despite 'cat' helping out w/ posting yesterday; here is another chapter as it is Friday. Enjoy :)_

**Chapter 6 ~ August 14****th****, 2009**

Ginny stepped into the kitchen, startled and pleasantly surprised to see Harry home. His hair looking more unruly than usual, a sign of fatigue and frustration as he grabbed an apple off the table.

"Hey," Ginny said, leaning against the doorframe. "You're home early."

Harry bit into the apple, and clear, crisp snap could be heard. And then he nodded his head, sliding the apple to the right of his mouth. "The Minister…" Harry shook his head, "I've never seen him so _devoted_…to proving anyone wrong." He slid his hand through his black hair, "It's starting to make me wonder…"

Ginny nodded, "I know." She sighed, "Last week, when she was talking, it sounded so clear cut…so easy to believe that she was activating the Order to stop a potential madman."

"And now…" He took another bite of his apple, "There haven't been any attacks, no sign of him at the Carrows and it's a week. But, then I remember how long Voldemort went, and I know it's a matter of time. And we just have to wait."

"I know." Ginny feigned a smile, "But haven't had much luck on the other end, either."

At this, Harry frowned. "I can't believe either you or Hermione have not been able to find out who her children are or who her husband was."

Ginny shrugged, "Hermione went through the birth and death records last week at St. Mungos. I've been through the records at the Ministry. Both sets are missing the information as to siblings, father, and maiden name for her daughter, Esmerele."

"What about a congratulatory remark on the wedding in the Prophet?" Harry asked, pleased with his idea.

Ginny shook her head, "Nothing was in the paper that even mentioned they were married. It's like her whole family is an enigma. Nor," She pushed herself away from the wall, "Was there any notes during those years about her other children."

"What about McGonagall? Have any luck with her wedding?"

She gave a half smile, "No. Not that either Hermione or I have had the time to go all the way back to when she graduated Hogwarts, that's a damn lot of Prophets to read through, Harry."

Harry chuckled, "Yeah, guess so. But hasn't she or you found anything?"

Ginny gave a solitary shake. "No. Not yet. Though, I never realized how many articles about McGonagall and Dumbledore the Prophet used to print. Should have just called it the Hogwarts watch."

"That's good." Harry said, taking another bite of his apple. "Though, probably still apropos, even since Dumbledore's death."

"I'd wager, she is the only person who has as many articles printed on them as you."

"And is indeed as happy about it too." Harry stated, "Which is perhaps why she never speaks of her personal life and why so much of it is shrouded in mystery."

"True, but for her life to have so much unaccounted for, Harry. It's uncanny."

Harry paused, eyes staring into Ginny's. "There is something to be said for not having your life plastered all over the magical world."

Ginny nodded, "A luxury I can only imagine."

"How's Hermione?" Harry said, abruptly changing topics.

"Ahhh….getting ready for Hogwarts." Ginny swallowed, hoping Harry wouldn't push the issue. Which he unknowingly did.

"But what about her meeting with McGonagall and the children being able to stay at Hogwarts?" He inquired.

"Apparently, went better than she had hoped. They will be able to stay at Hogwarts, but she has worked out a plan that they will only be spending every other weekend up at Hogwarts. They'll be staying with both my parents and her parents when Ron can't watch him."

"Ron hasn't mentioned anything at work."

"That's because they had a bit of a row last week…"

Harry's shoulders slumped, "He has to realize that she won't be returning…"

Ginny nodded, "I think on some level, he does. It's just…he believes that she still loves him…"

"She does." Harry stated, "She's just not in love with him." He bit the last chunk of apple off, "And when her name reverts back to Granger at the end of the week…"

"Hermione's worried about him, Harry."

Harry frowned, "I know. It's just hard, you know, Ginny? I wish it would have worked out."

Ginny took the half dozen steps over to him and raised her hand and laid it on his arm. "I know. But, I also know that Hermione can't go back to being with him, she has been miserable for the past three years. And I don't want to see either one unhappy."

Harry turned and gazed down into her eyes, "Me either." He said, hand softly trailing down her cheek.

Ginny leaned into his hand, "I'm sure something will work out…for both of them."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxox

George heard a crash and felt the table beneath his fingers quake, "Bloody hell." He muttered as he grabbed his wand, and in a flurry of robes was dashing down the wooden hall, fingers curling around the metal door handle as the night air rushed against his face.

The London street being lit up in a color of reds and yellow. Hexes shimmering against the windowpanes…

His eyes glinting against the muted light…he could see Terrance Tory fending off wizards…and he dove head long into the fray…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxox

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose; the last week had been insufferable. Not only was the whole of the wizarding world glued to the articles the Prophet had written about her, but the speculation had been fierce as to why she would have a personal motive. And what that motive was.

Then the room burst into a ring of chaos.

A flash of light…and the portrait of Chris Carlson leapt into his painting. "Minerva…there has been an attack in London, the muggle street in front of the Leaky Cauldron."

Minerva frowned, her wand already snapping into her hand. "Dilys please inform Helena." Minerva cast a glance to the clock, "I'm sure she's at St. Mungos. Everard, tell the Minister. Severus, Potter." Minerva picked up a small trinket off the corner of her desk, courtesy of Hermione. A system to activate the Order if necessary…Hermione had said it was similar to the one's used for Dumbledore's Army. Her hand wrapped tightly around the small coin…she thought of the area outside of the Leaky Cauldron as she activated the coin. It glowed bright for a moment, before it returned to its usual plain state.

"Be careful, Minerva." Albus stated as the wards began shifting around her.

"Do be a dear, and get Filius, Pomona and Poppy." She said before a pop resonated throughout the room and a flurry of papers fell to the floor where she had once stood.

oxxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo

"Helena…" Dilys stated stepping into her portrait in the Administrator's office…

"Minister…" Everard stated stepping into the Minister's office…

"Poppy…"

"Filius and Pomona…"

"Potter…"

Despite being different portraits, the message to each one of them was the same, there was an attack in a muggle London street.

Their reactions, however, were far different from each other's. Helena jumped from her seat, and was out the door barking orders to the healers about incoming wounded; Poppy was readying the Hogwarts hospital; Filius and Pomona worried about their friend; and Kingsley cringed, hoping that this attack was in no way linked to McGonagall's. Harry pulled away from his wife's lips, cursing the portrait's timing at the other end of the hall.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione saw the coin flash, and at once summoned it to her. The letters were splayed across the front, 'Attack.' Flipping it over was the destination. 'Muggle Leaky Cauldron.'

Hermione had been on edge all day, hoping the coin wouldn't be activated. All the Order members had shifts…and at once, she stood and made her way to the door, thankful the children were visiting her parents. The door closed behind her, and she jogged the handful of steps outside the home's protective wards and with a pop…was gone.

Her eyes focused as the muggle street in front of Tom's came into focus. It was quiet. No movement, no magic. She took several steps towards the Leaky Cauldron, when her eyes landed on Minerva leaning over a wizard.

"Minerva?"

At once the elder witch spun, dropping to her knee, wand out. Her eyes squinting against the night, "Who's there?"

Hermione felt a sigh of relief at being questioned first, "Hermione."

At once, the wand fell to her side, "It's clear." Came her crisp reply as she turned back to the man before her. Eyes narrowing, she knew the face. It had been a long time, "Terrance." She whispered as she cast another diagnostic spell on the man.

Hermione drew up short as a series of spells shot from the tip of Minerva's wand. "I didn't know you were familiar with Healer's magic." Hermione mumbled.

Minerva's reply was lost as a scattering of footsteps shuffled to a stop, both witches drawing their wands.

"Terrance?" Came George's deep voice.

"He needs to get to St. Mungos." Minerva replied, again turning back to the battered wizard.

George's breaths were labored, "Thanks Minerva." He rumbled, "For earlier."

Hermione frowned at the red haired man, who merely shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll return the favor, some day." She said hand splayed out on the man's chest. Blooding running over her long fingers. "The Ministry will be here momentarily, see if you two can determine what they were after Terrance for." Minerva stated, and with barely a pop had taken Terrance with her.

"Don't know what they were looking for," George said, eyes sweeping down the ally. "But damn lucky she showed up when she did."

They could here a series of other pops coming from down the street.

Hermione pulled him toward an ally opposite the Leaky Cauldron. "Where did you see him?"

George pointed down the ally they were heading in to. "A bit farther that way. Heard the racket from my flat, popped my head out…and almost lost it."

They could hear the Ministry officials speaking with a handful of muggles, who were talking about strange tricks of light…and began to quickly canvas the street. They stopped upon seeing a glowing J and H splattered on a door.

Pushing the door inward, they both turned away at once at the bloody mess that greeted their eyes.

"I don't think they were after Terrance." Hermione stated.

George brought his robe up to cover his nose and mouth, "Me either." His eyes took in the carnage, and he cringed. "I think he interrupted or saw them leaving here."

They heard the door creak; both of them whipped their wands to the door, to see Harry stepping in. "Crikey." He said, green eyes sweeping over the bloodied walls and then stopping on Hermione and George's faces. "You two alright?"

They nodded. "Whoever did this, Terrance Tory interrupted and he is now receiving emergency care at St. Mungos." George stated.

"Well, get going." Harry muttered, "I'll give a report later today on this and get the Order the info, but don't want anyone else seeing you two."

"Thanks Harry." George and Hermione both stated.

"Don't head towards the Leaky Cauldron."

"Right." Hermione said, pulling George's sleeve. "Come on."

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Helena stepped into the room, eyes instantly landing on her friend, whose hesitant countenance matched her own. "How is he?" Minerva asked, leaning back.

Helena's face became drawn, her blond hair cascading onto her shoulders as she gave a solitary shake no. "We don't know what curse was used, but it was effective." Helena sat opposite of the emerald robed witch as she continued on. "He bled out in twenty minutes of arriving here."

Minerva closed her eyes, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "Was he coherent at all during that time?"

"He said something about interrupting the Simmons. Then, nothing." She reached over, laying a hand a top her dear friends. "I'm sorry, Minerva."

She nodded, "He was the Head Boy in 1988; had two children…" She frowned, "Simmons, you say?"

Helena narrowed her eyes, "Yes. Why? Do you know that name?"

"As a matter a fact I do." She stood, "So do you."

Helena stood too. "Minerva, I'm not following."

"Clarence Simmons."

"Clarence…" Helena felt her chest constrict. "As in mapmaker."

"As in commissioned for a new set of Hogwarts drawings in 1962."

"Hufflepuff…graduated two years ahead of us. Double chin, gaudy yellow robes. 1962? Why then?" Helena shifted gears.

"It was Hogwarts 1100 year anniversary. A new set of plans is commissioned every century."

"Didn't he marry?" She asked.

Minerva nodded, "After Grindlewald, he did. They had one child, who was killed during Voldemort's first war, but they were blessed with a grandchild." Minerva felt the color draining from her face, "I believe she lives in a flat in London."

"What about his family home in Strattsford?"

"Can you get a message through to Harold, find out where the flat is at in London. I wager that Terrance stumbled upon something."

"Where are you going?" Helena asked, as Minerva opened the door.

"To visit Clarence." Minerva stated.

"Take someone with you." Helena stepped closer, "You haven't been back to Hogwarts, I'm sure you engaged in the mess down at the Cauldron, and you are going up to Strattsford with Merlin knows what waiting for you."

Minerva frowned, "Since when did you start spouting safety first?"

Helena chuckled, "Since I found out my bull-headed Gryffindor friend was no longer invincible and was dying."

Without much thought, she replied. "I'll take Filius."

Helena nodded, "Very well. Though, Percival…"

"Is in France. Tessa and Malcolm are in Egypt through the end of the week. And don't even start about Rory."

"Glad to see that your regard for you children and family friends remains." Helena stated, "Love them, but don't lean on them."

Minerva cocked her brow, "You know why I prefer not to involve them."

"And they are sound reasons, almost worthy of a Ravenclaw. But it doesn't mean I won't push. They are not made of glass."

"No, but some days they believe I am." Minerva replied.

"Oh, how so far from the truth, dear." Helena interjected, "They still believe that you will right all their wrongs, as you and Albus use to when they were children. But there will come a day, when your children will have to accept you and their father for who they were, what they were capable of, and the magic _they _are capable of performing; not in your shadows, but in your stead."

"I only hope that Percival and Tessa live long enough."

"They will…dear." Helena replied, a tender smile on her face as her friend nodded before stepping out the door. "They will."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoo

Minerva was about to step through the atrium of St. Mungos and apparate back to Hogwarts, when Hermione and George stepped up beside her. "How is Terrance?" George asked without preamble.

Minerva shook her head, "Didn't make it. Did the two of you find anything?"

Hermione and George gave each other a look, before Hermione spoke. "Looks like Terrance interrupted something. Harry's going to get us the details, but there was a flat just up the ally, looked to be ransacked and covered in blood."

A deep frown flittered across Minerva's face. "I need to go, excuse me." Minerva's long strides were carrying her across the last of the expanse, Hermione barely catching up with her. George still trailing, "Where are you going, we'll come with you."

Minerva turned to her and gave a look to George. "I was on my way to get Filius before apparating up to Strattsford. George, grab a second Order member, then head up to Diagon Alley, Mysers Maps. See if Clarence Simmons is there. If so, send word. Do not let him out of your sight."

"Consider it done, McG." He replied, using his pet name for her. "I'll grab Percy and be on my way."

Minerva turned to Hermione, "If you are willing to accompany me up to Strattsford, then I won't have to pull Filius from Hogwarts."

"Let's go." Hermione replied.

Minerva narrowed her eyes at the younger witch and then nodded. Holding out her hand, she felt the smooth skin slid across her own. She concentrated, felt the magic within her pull at the sheer usage she had done already, and then as if pulling a string of musical chord, the magic pulsed and the atrium was gone.

Hermione blinked at the dark foliage blocking even the moon's rays. "Where are we?"

"Northern Strattsford." Minerva said, as Hermione's hand dropped from her own. "Clarence Simmons' home should just be over the next hill."

Hermione followed Minerva's brisk footsteps, "Who is he?"

"A world renown mapmaker. Went to Hogwarts around the same time I did."

"Will he know you?"

"I believe so." Minerva replied, thinking back to the time he had asked for her hand in marriage despite only having been on one date.

"Why would Johannes be after him?"

"Every century, a new map is commissioned to be done on Hogwarts. Clarence did the last map."

"But how is that valuable information? Hogwarts A History has a detailed map of Hogwarts."

"True, but it does not include all the passageways nor the location of some of Hogwarts inner chambers."

"Clarence's map does?"

"Yes." Minerva replied, as her walking stick sunk deep into the hillside, which she pulled herself up.

"But isn't the map kept at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, her nose curling at the burnt smelt.

"Of course, however, Clarence would know what was detailed out onto the map." Minerva stopped mid-stride as she came up over the hill.

Hermione paused beside her, mouth slacken. The home before them was in flames, the orange and yellow strands licking the black sky. Even from this distance, they could feel the heat. Minerva held up her hand, blocking some of the light, as her eyes scanned the valley.

"There." Minerva said, pointing to a miniscule set of figures on the side of the hill. Hermione barely had time to follow the other witch's finger when Minerva began running down the hill, veering towards the group of figures…her body morphing as she did.

Hermione began to follow, eyes straining to follow the darting Tabby cat that was tearing through the underbrush at a break neck speed. Hermione's eyes barely registered one set of rocks and then the grassy knoll…and as she came around the bend…she watched as the Tabby's cat body leapt forward, body elongating in the air…the flames of the fire dancing behind her.

Hermione continued running as a bolt of white light shot from the tip of Minerva's wand momentarily engulfing three of the figures. The forth and fifth one falling down to the earth. At once, Minerva conjured a shield spell, deflecting two bolts as she swung her wand backwards and seemingly lassoed a ring of fire…

Hermione could feel the burning in her lungs, from her mad dash and the oppressive heat that crackled less than fifty feet from them. She could see Minerva and two others in a dance of fire and other spells reigning between them. A third wizard lay bound and petrified in stone. She could make out two other bodies, one in garish burnt, yellow robes, and the other in what remained of once scarlet ones.

She cast a series of hexes upon the two attackers, and the flames around them grew, as Minerva seemed to force the fire to bend to her will…enclosing upon them.

"Come." Minerva said, as beads of sweat poured from her face. "We need to leave." At Hermione's stricken face, her voice became resolute. "Now. This is a standoff and the longer we remain, the worse they become." Minerva conjured a wall of grass, earth and stone, while interjecting another lasso of fire. The stone and earth becoming crystallized, as Hermione knelt by Clarence and an elder woman. "She's dead." Hermione stated against the roaring noise. Hermione put the man's arm over her shoulders, standing and turned back to Minerva…her hair pulling apart as long strands blew into the wind.

She staggered forward, as Minerva whipped her wand in a short circling motion deflecting the glass shards coming towards them. Hermione felt one sink into her shoulder, and at the sheer look of determination upon Minerva's face. Hermione was certain, one if not more, had struck Minerva.

Hermione took another step forward…

Minerva spun the earth beneath them…

Another step…

The two wizards threw a series of reds and yellow bolts at them. "You'll not win against us." The olive green robed man hissed, "We got what we came here for."

Hermione took another step, and could feel the magic coursing off Minerva. It was breathtakingly strong as it rippled through her…as she bent it to her will…and then it shot forward.

Minerva turned around, hair swinging in the breeze, as a snake of fire coiled around them, steam billowing against them as water splayed outwards…her fingers locking around Hermione's wrist. "Hogwarts!" Minerva bellowed as a loud explosion rocked where the wizards had been…the percussion pushing against the two witches…ringing in their ears…fire jumping through them…as the heat engulfed them. Hermione couldn't breath…her chest was constricting…and then the world turned quiet…all the noise was gone for a singular heartbeat before the sound of bodies collapsing against the earth, a jumble of robes and grunts followed by the peaceful lapping of the Hogwarts Lake and the gentle cry of the owlry.

Hermione let her head fall back onto the lawn, taking a few deep breaths. "That was close." She whispered into the still air. "Minerva?" She gulped another lung full of air as she sat up. "Minerva?" She turned her head, and at once was scrambling over to the emerald clad witch who was clawing herself forward.

Hermione felt her heart plummet into her stomach at the sight. "My god!" She breathed out. Her robes were scorched…left hand burnt black…a deep gash along her forehead… "Minerva!" She breathed, tears instantly coming to her eyes. "We need to get you to St. Mungos…"

Minerva felt her body slacken as Hermione pulled her over. Her energy almost gone, she tiredly licked her lips. "Hog…warts." She breathed.

Hermione blinked back tears, at the broken body of her mentor, shaking her head. "We're here. But, I need to get both you and Clarence to St. Mungos."

Minerva closed her eyes and used her right leg to push her forward, sliding her body closer to the gates.

"Minerva…easy." She said, "We'll be there in just a minute."

Minerva grit her teeth, breaths coming out in heavy puffs as she dug the heel of her boot into the earth and pushed again.

"Minerva…."

"Hogwarts…" She breathed out, eyes blinking through the tears as she stretched her arm….her charred fingers barely grazing the iron gates.

Hermione felt the ground pulse around Minerva…and then a loud crack as an elderly house elf appeared by the gates. The house elf was momentarily taken back by Hermione's presence but at once, turned to the Headmistress. "She's be fine." He tipped his head toward the other wizard, "He's be needing St. Mungos. Go's."

Hermione opened her mouth, but Minerva breathed out. "Go."

"She's be fine, Ms…Granger." Elgin gently put his gnarled hands on Minerva's shoulder.

Hermione watched as the tiny house elf popped, the body of Minerva McGonagall gone…and as the wizard groaned, she spun around and grabbed his arm and at once, apparated to St. Mungos. Her mind, however, riveted to the scene she had witnessed moments before.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Helena Harrison stepped into the room, "I'll finish." She stated crisply, drawing a look of surprise from the healer treating Hermione.

"Are you sure?" The brown haired young man asked.

"I need to speak with Mrs. Weasley. Thank you Fredrick." She stated, walking around the young healer. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at the wound in the young witch's shoulder. "Were you with, Minerva, Hermione?"

Hermione stared at the blond haired witch, debating how much to tell the healer. But then, she remembered that this person knew what was going on regarding Minerva's medical condition. "Yes. We went to Clarence Simmons'…"

"I don't think he's going to make it, either." She said, fingers pressing along her clavicle. "They have a panache for liquefying the organs, makes it rather difficult to heal." She said as her fingers sunk deeper into the muscle tissue, "You've got a healthy piece of crystal embedded in your muscle." She said, drawing upright. "Now, how's Minerva?" She said as she reached into her robes and pulled a pair of silver framed glasses out. At the lack of response, Helena pursed her lips. "I'm going to go with not well."

Hermione felt the tears prick her eyes, "She looked…like the fire had burnt half her body." She shuddered when she recalled the blackened hand stretching toward the gates. "Her hand…looks as bad as Dumbledore's before he died."

"I assure you, that is the least of her worries." Helena snapped open her glasses, perching them on the end of her nose. "Now, did she get to the gates?"

Hermione frowned, _What did that have to do with Minerva's condition?_ "Yes, but I fail to see…"

Helena murmured a spell before placing the palm of her hand on Hermione's wound. "I doubt she will wish to tell you, but after seeing this evening, I'm quite sure…" She flexed her fingers and then Hermione felt a deep pull from her shoulder muscles followed by a tremendous ache.

"Owww." Hermione groaned as Helena pulled her hand away, the piece of crystal dropping onto Helena's hand.

"Looks like Minerva's handiwork." She said eyeing the deep blue crystal. "Don't know anyone else who can rematerialize the stone with that much pressure to actually turn the dirt and rock into crystals." She placed the stone into Hermione's hand. "Damn lucky that struck your shoulder. She interwove a hex, it would have paralyzed anything it struck. The hex is gone, it would make a fine pendant now." She said reaching over and grabbing two potions off the cart.

"You were saying about Minerva not telling…"

Helena poured two tablespoons from the lavender bottle and one from the maroon bottle. "Quite, just if you are with her, and she needs medical attention." She handed the concoction to Hermione, "She needs to be taken to Hogwarts and not brought here."

Hermione eyed the gelatin liquid. "Why? Surely you are better able to treat her here?"

Helena reached up, pulling the glasses from her face. "I'm not trying to treat her, Hermione. The goal is to sustain her and there was a spell cast several years ago that assists her, unfortunately, it is at Hogwarts."

Hermione knocked the drink back, almost gagging as she did. "And you aren't going to tell me anymore, are you?"

Helena's brow rose, "No."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "How long have you been friends with her?"

At this question, the stonewall expression softened. "Since our first year at Hogwarts."

"Why is her whole life shrouded in mystery?" Hermione inquired.

Helena allowed an indeterminately minute smile to pass across her lips, "She's a private person."

"But why the secrecy revolving around her children, her husband?"

Helena opened her mouth to end the conversation, but the warm brown eyes sought understanding…and Helena sighed. "The war had begun to envelope Europe, but it had not spread into England yet." Her voice became distant; "We were to go on a tour into Egypt, a congratulations from our parents. We never got to go. She arrived home…to a dead brother, his body carved open across the front lawn of McGonagall Manor. Her parents…had vanished. And a note was hanging, waiting for her. It gave a detailed list of who they had killed, and who they would kill next if she did not turn over the family's Arthimancy texts."

"Arthimancy?" Hermione frowned, "I don't understand why…?"

"Her father was a Master in Arthimancy. He had sheaves, bindings of parchments on every probability for the next decade."

"She didn't give it over, did she?" Hermione asked, dreading the response Helena was about to give.

"No, she didn't. She tried to protect what remained of her family, her youngest brother, cousins, aunts, uncles, my parents…but almost all of them fell, one by one. So, you see Hermione, privacy at this point is how she is able to protect those she cares about. She has already lost far more than the whole of the Order combined during the war with Grindlewald. And then came Voldemort. So, you can imagine how adept she became at obscuring the truth about her family and those she holds dear."

"What happened with the sheaves?" Hermione asked.

"She used them, to help stop Gellert." Helena replied, trying to shake the haunting look that had encompassed Minerva's eyes as she had granted Helena access to the inner part of the Manor as they made their way into the deep walnut rooms, the ancient tombs littering the walls…Meric's writings…how she had pulled the leather volumes from their perch…

How bloody accurate they had been…

About her children…

Her husband…

Later, when Helena had gone back after Albus' death…there, hidden in the numbers was the truth about the damnable bonding…and…

About a new love…she had never spoken to Minerva about the texts, nor about how she had poured over the volumes…and how she had learned the art of Arthimancy. Harold, would argue that she was as good at Arthimancy as Healing…thankfully he never whispered a word of that to anyone, except to her.

"Does she still have them?" Hermione asked, bringing Helena back to the present.

"I believe so." Helena replied, "I haven't seen them in years, though." _At least the originals,_ she thought to herself. "You need to get some rest this evening, it'll be a solid 12 hours before you should use your arm."

"Thank you, Helena." Hermione stated, flexing her fingers. "For everything."

Helena nodded, "Quite welcome, dear. But remember, Hogwarts, not here."

Hermione slid off the bed, "I'll be inquiring further tomorrow."

Helena fought off a smile, "I'm sure." _And Merlin get some sleep,_ she thought, _Minerva's a bear to get information on a good day, let alone after a day like today._

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_A/N: I hope you have enjoyed and would like to hear a bit more; I plan to post chapter 7 on Friday…and it would be lovely to know what you think of this last bit. It was wicked fun to write. _


	8. Chapter 7 August 15, 2009

**Chapter 7 ~ August 15****th****, 2009**

Minerva stared at the front page of the Daily Prophet, disgust clearly evident on her face.

"He denied it." Albus said, popping another lemon drop into his mouth.

"Correction, he stoutly refused to acknowledge that there was any correlation between the incident in London and Strattsford in conjunction with my incident in Diagon Alley." Minerva growled, pulling her glasses off her nose.

"Surely there is evidence at Strattsford…" Severus began.

At that, Minerva frowned, "I'm afraid not. Anything that may have been there is gone after Hermione and I visited."

There was a quick murmuring from the portraits, "That explains your ashen color last night, dear." Dily's stated above the voices.

"Did Harkiss get the detailing of the map?" Albus asked.

At once, all the chatter ceased as every past Headmaster and Headmistress' eyes dropped to Minerva, who sighed. "I don't know. He didn't get Clarrence, but I have no idea what he did get. And I can't ask Clarrence because he died at 4:18 this morning. If you will all please visit the portraits throughout the school and let them know that I believe it is only a matter of time before we will be receiving visitors, and that if they see someo8ne who is not on the school lists, to bring it to my attention immediately." One by one the Headmasters and Headmistresses left their frames…leaving Albus and Minerva alone for a moment.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this, Albus." She said, wearily standing up.

Albus eyed the witch in question. Fatigue lined her eyes, slouched her shoulders, and after last evening, he feared despair had set into her bones. "For as long as you have to, dear."

"And how long, is that?" She tiredly questioned. "How long do I continue to stand in the path of destruction, thwarting as many deaths as I can? I lost four more last night…four. And almost added George and Hermione to the body count." She tucked her glasses into her robes. "And now Hogwarts? Our children?"

"Stay focused, Minerva." He quietly replied.

Absently, Minerva nodded, tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. "I'm just tired, Albus." She whispered into the stillness of her office.

He watched as she grabbed her hat, the wards shifting, and with a pop she was gone. She had an Order meeting to run after all. Albus stared for a long moment at the where she had once stood. "I know." He replied, wishing there was something more he could do.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxooxxoxoxoxoxoxxox

The Order meeting had been many things; quiet was not one of them. Minerva listened to the others speaking, her mind trying to track the lightening speed conversation as it flowed around her…but she found her mind drifting to warm thoughts…ones that held peace.

Helena watched the subtle shift in Minerva's expression. Her eyes were following the words, but she had seen the look pass over her friend's face before. Minerva's thoughts were elsewhere. And judging from the light shining within her eyes, she was indeed focusing on thoughts from her past…as the last several years, she had very little happiness.

Helena continued to subtly watch the emerald clad witch, the soft light still burning in her green eyes as Harry spoke of Clarence's granddaughter's gruesome death…and Helena began to wonder how much more her dear friend could take.

She had no longer had anyone to share the burden…

Her eyes began scanning the room, seeking correlating clues that matched Meric's numbers. It would have to be someone who knew her…

She thought of Minerva's childhood neighbor, Mikal…but then recalled how dull his conversations could quickly become…_Minerva would die from lack of meaningful conversation_. At that moment, her eyes landed on Percy Weasley…and Helena almost broke into a fit of laughter at the mere notion. _Definitely not, _she thought as her eyes slid over to the brother, George.

_At least there is a possibility…_but as George turned to speak with Minerva, she caught the look of admiration that permeated from his face. _Nope, she'll never fall in love with someone who will be anything other than an equal._

Her eyes slid past Arthur and Molly; Filius and Pomona; and her children before landing upon Harry and Ginny. Minerva had been right about them, they were perfect together. And then her eyes slid to Ron…and she was almost overcome with the same reaction as that of Percy. _Immaturity…albeit a great way to get her to relax initially, it would last as long as a warm summer in Scotland. _And then her eyes landed on the witch…Hermione...

She was about to immediately discount the notion…but paused. There was something about _her_…perhaps it was the way she held herself. The way she would ask questions, seeking truth and answers. Helena found herself narrowing her eyes, and truly noticing the witch in question.

She had spoken with Hermione last night…

The words intelligent, articulate, powerful, and stoutly Gryffindor instantly came to mind. She was beautiful…no, Helena corrected herself, timeless; much like her dear friend. _ She is the type of person who could capture her friend's heart, even though she was a woman._

Helena's eyes slid to Minerva who chose that precise moment to finally snap from her reverie, and met Helena's gaze with a questioning one of her own. Helena merely turned back to her own internal ramblings, but was waylaid as Hermione's voice broke across the room.

"I wanted to bring about a piece of information that I feel the whole Order…"

Helena at once interrupted, "Hermione, if I could have a word." The chair jumping back as she stood, eyes waiting expectantly on the younger witch.

Hermione felt her jaw tighten, "Of course."

Helena immediately swept towards the far end of the room; she could feel Minerva's uneasiness at where she was leading the younger witch. But she would deal with Minerva, after she dealt with Hermione. Her hands flew to the wooden door, and at once, she opened it, turning to see all eyes still trained on her and Hermione as she walked down the expanse of the room.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she stepped through the door, and at once, Helena snapped it close. Her voice brokering no argument, "I did not tell you about Minerva last evening for you to feel suddenly brazen and immediately share it with the entire Order."

Hermione turned around, brown eyes blazing as she stood toe to toe with Helena, "And that information needs to be shared with the rest of the Order, what if she is taken to St. Mungos versus Hogwarts?"

"Then I would send her back to Hogwarts…"

"And the precious minutes that could waste?" Hermione rebutted.

Helena opened her mouth to say that it mattered not, Minerva was dying. But the words wouldn't come. Because…she still didn't want to believe it and still had not accepted it, let alone wanting to voice it to anyone else. With a sigh, she closed her mouth and sought for a measure of her friend's staunch Gryffindor bravery. "It's her wish, Hermione."

"What kind of answer is that?" Hermione rebuked. "And it shouldn't be left to her wishes; we are talking about her life."

"Perhaps you should remember, Hermione, it _is_ her life." Helena stated, meeting Hermione's chocolate gaze with her glacial blue one. "For better or worse, she is trying to do what is right, and I'll be damned if my best friend is undercut by a witch who believes that she knows what is right. Who believes that she is doing what is needed to help save a woman's life, she knows nothing about. If you care about her, Hermione, you'll respect her wishes. Not yours."

Hermione felt herself take a deep settling breath as she immediately altered her tactics, "You're a healer, are you not?"

Helena nodded, "I am."

"From what I know, one of the best healers in the world. And," She felt tears prickling against her eyes, "If she is truly your friend, then you would do anything you needed to do to save her, even if that meant crossing the formidable woman."

At that point, Helena brought herself a step closer to the younger witch, "There may come a point where you will learn the truth about Minerva," Her voice was dancing across Hermione's cheeks, "And until then, you can rest assured, that I will have done whatever I need to do to insure that she lives for as long as humanly possible. And that includes, oblivating your memory if I have too to protect Minerva."

Hermione blanched, "You wouldn't, you're a healer. Your mandate is to do no harm."

Helena's blond brow arched, "And I will do no harm, nor see any harm come to Minerva…" Voice dropping, "Don't test me on this, Hermione. You're a clever witch…one I'd much rather become friends with; however the choice, remains with you."

The sheer tenacity behind her words, danced as fiery ice within Helena's normally placid eyes. It took every ounce of Hermione's resolve not to back away from the intimidating witch. She would never have thought of Helena Harrison as a force to be reckoned with, but as she met Helena's piercing gaze, her view had been forever, changed. Gone was any warmth normally associated with the Head Administrator of St. Mungos, instead, a woman now stood, toe to toe with her…and had in no uncertain terms told Hermione that she would do whatever she had to, to protect her friend.

"I have no intention of seeing harm come to Minerva, nor of causing any undue harm. Which is why I do not follow your logic regarding informing the Order."

"She has reasons, Hermione that is none of your concern and she will tell everyone when she's ready."

"I didn't realize that you are so cavalier about her life."

Helena's jaw tightened, "Your seconds have waned, make your choice."

Hermione realized that to find out what in blazes was going on concerning Minerva, the path of truth ran through her friend's trust. Hermione could see Helena's fingers tightening upon her wand, and she couldn't be certain as to Helena's abilities. And what of Minerva? What would cause Helena to threaten her, breaking her covenant as a healer…all while having Minerva be treated at Hogwarts when injured? Then there was the fact, that Minerva appeared fine this morning. Hand no longer looking burnt…and that in a span of eight hours. There was no potion, no spell that could counter-act those effects at that speed. "She is lucky to have you as a friend." Hermione finally uttered.

Helena took a hairs breath step back, "Do I have your word that you will not divulge what we spoke of last eve?"

Hermione slowly nodded her head, "You have it, but why did you tell me in the first place?"

At this Helena took a full step backwards, her hand falling from her wand, posture immediately relaxing. "She is weakening far faster than people realize, and there will come a point when she is going to need assistance, and despite what you may believe, I'd prefer to stack the deck in my favor. She is going to need people she can trust, people who know at least a semblance of the truth so they can save her life. After last evening, and the eye full you got, I was hoping to add you to the small list of names that would be able to assist Minerva and help keep that foolish Gryffindor pride of hers from killing her." Blue eyes swept over Hermione's countenance, "Now," Helena's fingers wrapped around the door handle, "We need to get back."

Hermione cleared her throat, "If she is not doing well, then how in the hell did her hand heal so quickly?"

"It is all about perception, Hermione."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Do you mean that her hand isn't healed?"

"You saw it, does it not _look_ healed?"

"Yes, but…"

Helena narrowed her eyes, "Why is it that you care?"

"We all care." Hermione retorted.

Helena measured the brown eyes, and could see something a bit more lurking in her depths. _Perhaps I was closer to the truth than I thought..._"No, Hermione. There is a difference…and I've made it my business knowing." She straightened her back, "To the meeting."

Hermione nodded wondering what on earth Helena was rambling about, but also realizing that she had pushed far enough today, "Thank you, Helena."

A sparse smile graced her lips, "Don't thank me, Hermione." She tilted her head to the room they were about to step back in to. "We are going to be grilled in a moment by 25 Order members and one witch who is going to be less than thrilled about _our_ conversation."

"I'll speak to…" Hermione began.

Helena shook her head, "Albeit brave of you, it would be far better for that conversation to come from me. You, however, get to come up with an explanation as to why we have been out here for as long as we have." She finished turning the handle and striding through the door.

Hermione took a deep breath, eyes momentarily noticing a series of pictures on the wall. One of Esmerel and Johannes...another of...was that Helena and Harold? And a picture of Minerva with…and then she heard the room before her shift, and she knew that she needed to enter the other room, but to have answers to her questions, so close.

Hermione entered the room, eyes instantly falling upon her. "Our apologies," Hermione's voice rang over her and Helena's footsteps. "As I was saying, I wanted to inform the entire Order that after last night, I feel it is prudent for us to pair off when on missions. No one should be alone…"

Harry frowned, "And why did you need to speak with Hermione, Helena?" He asked.

Helena slid her chair forward, eyes raising to Hermione…giving her a slight nod.

At this, Hermione cleared her throat, bringing the attention of the room to herself. "We had a lengthy conversation last evening while I was at St. Mungos about the ability to enchant a clock similar to that of Molly's for all of the Order to be kept at St. Mungos."

Both topics easily flowed in conversation, the pros and cons…until finally Minerva brought the meeting to a close. One by one everyone vanished, taking their portkey back to their home, work or wherever they needed to go until…Hermione gave Helena a pointed look before whisking away leaving Helena and Minerva alone.

"Well, that was unexpected." Minerva said leaning back, eying her friend.

"You should have talked to her this morning." Helena said, frown lining the corner of her mouth.

At this Minerva gave a subtle shrug, "I should have, but I didn't. I was feeling a bit off this morning."

"How off?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"Don't ask, Helena. You don't want to know."

Helena leaned forward, "What happened last night? I pulled a crystal out of Hermione's shoulder, which that was a fancy piece of magic and a nice hex intertwined, but she inferred that your hand had turned black. And Clarence said that you apparated them out through the family wards. I don't even want to know how you did that."

Minerva gave her a brief synopsis of the evening and as she finished, Helena had her head in her hands. "…and regarding the wards, they had dissipated since the home was no longer a solid structure. It was easier punching through those than shifting the wards of Hogwarts."

"Moving a little slow…Merlin, Minerva. You have got to slow down." She raised her head up. "You've had two massive duels within the past week…there is no telling what this is doing to your system."

"It's making it a bit troublesome to move in the morning." She replied, "Now, back to the matter at hand, what did you and Hermione actually talk about?"

Helena shook her head, "Not until you tell me how badly yesterday's duel drained you."

Minerva's jaw tightened. "I lost consciousness after touching the gates."

"Go on." Helena stated.

"I have no recollection of Elgin taking me back to my suite, and did not regain consciousness until the owl post arrived with the Prophet at just after 5 this morning."

Helena did the math in her head, "That's seven and a half hours, Minerva. It's never taken you that long…"

"Your turn." Minerva said cutting off Helena's words, not wanting to hear what she already knew. Minerva was herself, quite concerned about the effects of last night had upon her.

"I wouldn't have had to talk with her, if you had. She's curious, Minerva. She saw you last night, burnt to a crisp and you went to Hogwarts for treatment, not to St. Mungos. And so I told her last night that if you need medical assistance, you need to go to Hogwarts."

"Helena…how could…"

"Relax, Minerva. She won't talk. She, like every other member of the Order, want nothing but the best for you."

"But to inform Hermione…" Minerva sighed, "She shouldn't have been told."

Helena frowned, "Perhaps she shouldn't have been, but then again, this wouldn't even be an issue if you hadn't gone and almost got yourself killed at Simmons' house."

"Well apparently I shouldn't have tried to intercede on Clarence's behalf."

"Intercede is very different from being heroic."

"I wasn't being heroic…"

"You never are dear," Helena interrupted. "The problem is, you are not a healthy, young witch. You need help before you get yourself killed."

Minerva slammed her hand down onto the table, "I don't _want_ help, Helena."

Helena flinched, "You may not want it, Minerva." Her face softened, "But you have to face the facts, that unless you bond with someone and break the bond with Hogwarts, you are going to need help before the end."

Minerva stood, arms crossing in front of her chest, her voice laced thick with emotion. "I will not have it, especially from my students, Helena."

"And what of your children, Minerva?" Helena dug into her resolve. "They and your students need to see you as more than the Headmistress of Hogwarts. And as you weaken, you are going to need someone to lean on at the school, someone who you can trust and will allow to accompany you when you go out on Order missions, because there will come a point that even casting a simple spell could cripple you."

"I have Filius…"

Helena shook her head, "Don't go there. He is a dear friend, but he is the Deputy at Hogwarts and you will not endanger him nor Pomona. You couldn't live with yourself if something happened to either one of them. And then there is Poppy, she's not been in a duel, ever. I do believe I could even take the Hogwarts Matron."

Minerva laughed, "When was the last time you raised your wand with the intent of harm?"

At those words, an almost wicked smile broke across Helena's face. "Just today."

Minerva dropped her arms, "It remains early, you definitely got a jump on the day."

Helena patted her wand, "I threatened to oblivate Hermione's memory if she didn't give me the answer I sought."

"I'm glad you're on my side." Minerva said, a smile crinkling the corner of her eyes. "But oblivate her memory, Helena? Do you even remember the spell?"

A rich laugh echoed off the walls, "No. I don't. But I'm sure I would have managed something."

"Dear Merlin, I don't know who I should feel more concerned over. Hermione for the obscure spell she was almost unknowingly hexed with, or you for what she may have conjured upon you in defense."

"What of Hermione, Minerva?" Helena asked as they began to stride towards the door.

"What of her?" Minerva asked as the door opened just before they stepped through. Family and friends portraits following their movements as they continued walking down the hall.

"She's intelligent, capable and able to take care of herself in the middle of battle. When leaving for an Order mission from Hogwarts, why not ask her to join you? She also knows that you need to return to Hogwarts for medical treatment and not St. Mungos." She could see the doubt cross Minerva's face, and she continued on. "You're going to need someone when you go out Minerva. Maybe not now…but as you continue to weaken…"

"We'll see." Minerva stated, wishing she could escape from the truth of Helena's words.

Helena's voice belayed her concern. "Please remember that you are not invincible as you once believed yourself to be."

"I do, dear." She replied, "And…" Minerva turned her head toward Helena, eyes briefly meeting, "I am even considering your proposal."

"Will wonders never cease?" Helena teased.

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"Thanks." Hermione said as she took the glass of ice tea from Ginny.

Ginny replaced the pitcher, closing the door to the icebox. "How's the schedule coming for Hugo and Rose for the next two weeks?"

Hermione absently swirled the liquid in a circular pattern in the glass, "Not as well as I would have liked. Ron has to work a few double shifts next week, and…"

"I'd be happy to keep them for a few days if it'll help." Ginny interjected.

"I may take you up on the offer, Ginny." She said, forcing a smile. "I don't want to ask mom and dad or Molly and Arthur as I feel like I'm already imposing as it is."

Ginny waved her hand, "Nonsense. I know for a fact that mom and dad are looking forward to having them for a few weeks and I'm sure your parents are just as thrilled as mine are."

Hermione forced the guilt away, "I hope so."

Ginny leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter. "What's really bothering you?"

Hermione let her gaze drift out the window, "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, Ginny."

"How so?" She said, prompting Hermione for details.

"With Rose and Hugo, going to Hogwarts this year…Ron…" She said finally bringing her eyes back to the red haired witch.

Ginny felt the gravity of their conversation strike her stomach, "Hermione, what's going on?"

Hermione fought for a smile, but tears threatened her eyes. "The last week…it's just," She finally caught her breath, "Aren't you worried?"

Ginny sighed, "Yeah. I am." The worry shinning through her blue eyes. "Every night when Harry comes home, I thank God he's alive and whole. And every day is a miracle. Is that what's bothering you?"

"I…" Hermione started again, "What if Ron doesn't come home one night? I can't help but wonder…"

"Will you have loved him less?"

"It's not that," Hermione replied, taking a sip of the tea. "I just can't help think that maybe I'm being selfish for not going back with him. And if something happens…"

"Versus if nothing happens?" Ginny asked. "Or have you forgotten the arguments you both use to have? I love you both, but I swear, your arguments could strip the paint off the walls."

Hermione chuckled, "We actually did one night."

"Ohhh." Ginny said, ears turning pink. "I didn't mean…"

Hermione shook her head, "No, its okay, Ginny. It's the truth, and I know that we are far better off as friends, but I just worry about him."

"I know." She said, "So does Harry. But, you need to think of yourself for a change. We'll help out with the kids, and everything will work out between you and Ron." She held her hands up, "As friends, Hermione. Just as friends. Who knows, I heard Ian McGregor and his fiancé…"

"I'm not looking to jump into a relationship, Ginny. Besides," She paused, "After all the arguments and heart ache with your brother, I don't know if I'm willing to try again."

"Well, if you did, what would your _perfect_ man be like?" Ginny asked, mentally picturing Ian…and his characteristics as Harry stepped into the room, and gave Ginny a hug from behind.

"Hi." He whispered into her hair.

She patted his hand that had wrapped around her waist as he said, "Hermione, good seeing you."

Ginny twisted her head around, giving Harry a sour look. "Shhh…Hermione's going to describe what she is looking for...I'm thinking…" She mouthed, _Ian McGregor._

Hermione shot Harry a pleading glance, he merely shrugged and she sighed at Ginny's eager face. "Ohhh, alright." She muttered mildly exasperated at her now two grinning friends. "But, good luck trying to find someone…" She said, trying to relax her mind as she thought of what had become glaringly important to her in a relationship. What she wanted…

A pensive expression slowly overcame her face as she thought of who she would be inclined to date, "I suppose the first obstacle would be the kids." She sighed at the notion, "It was hard enough without kids when Ron and I were dating. But to find someone who will respect them and vice versa, and someone _they _will like…" She narrowed her eyes at Harry and Ginny, "Did that sufficiently eliminate any and all candidates?"

Harry's face split into a grin, "Nope."

"Keep going." Ginny chimed in.

"I guess someone who is strong…"

Ginny started nodding; _Ian had a wonderful upper body…_

"Though, not in the physical sense, that would just be a bonus. But strong as in strength of character...willing to stand up for their beliefs and others who are unable to stand up for their own." She paused, hand coming up to her mouth in thought…and then she mumbled into her hand before pulling it away, "Supportive…of not only the kids, but of me, my career…and willing to let me support and help them."

Harry cleared his throat, "So, likes kids, supportive and strength of character. Anything else, because so far…I've got a couple candidates…" He raised his eyebrows, and Ginny swatted him as Hermione chuckled.

"Probably just a bit more…"

Ginny turned back to her friend, "We're waiting."

She thought back to Minerva's duel in Diagon Alley, her fearless expression, "Brave…" Hermione's voice became soft, "Not foolishly so, but with thought and measure…" She paused for a moment more, before giving them both a pointed stare. "And dare I say…Intelligent."

At this, both Harry and Ginny audibly groaned. "So much for Ian…" Ginny muttered.

"I want to be able to talk about the latest theories of transfiguration or the recent article on Gregger's Clumox potion. Not have to spend an evening talking about the great play made by the Cannons seeker, not that that isn't interesting…" She said with a hint of a smile, "But it isn't 6 hours interesting. I want to be able to talk about the theories behind magic, just…" She paused and her eyes narrowed, the brown color deepening as she spoke, indicating _how_ important this was to her. "Carry on a conversation…one that isn't laced with I don't knows, or whatever you think, dear or…why are you reading that?" She shook her head, trying to ease the sting from the memories. "That used to infuriate me about Ron, and was probably what ultimately drove us apart…" A sad smile crossed her lips, "I couldn't talk to him…as an equal. My interests were not his interests, and therefore, he didn't give them credence nor did he wish to talk about them. He would steer the conversation to what he liked or what was important to him."

"So, let me see if I have the basics," Harry said as he disentangled himself from Ginny as Sirius popped his head in the kitchen. "Supportive, likes kids, strong…"

"Who you talking about?" He asked as Harry continued on, pulling open the icebox.

"Intelligent, brave…"

"Aunt McGonagall?" He questioned, straightening up, a chunk of cheese in his hand. "What?" He asked as his father moved his mouth, and no words were coming out. Ginny's ears were turning red in embarrassment for Hermione…and Hermione's cheeks began to become flushed. "Did I say something wrong?"

Finally Harry found his voice, it was only an octave higher than normal. "No, we were just talking about what Aunt Hermione is looking for…"

"Ohhh," Sirius said, shrugging his shoulder. "So, someone like Aunt McGonagall. Wicked." He said as he bit in the small block of cheese. "Not that Uncle Ron isn't, but…" A quirky smile broke across his face, as he chewed on the cheese while talking with the other side of his mouth. "When she's around, she actually cares what we say, even takes the time to explain stuff. And she treats us like adults…" He paused as he swallowed, "Well, most times anyways. So," He turned to his aunt. "Who's the lucky guy?"

His words were ringing in their ears…and Hermione felt her world stop as he brought his green gaze up to hers. They were green, vibrant, crystal clear…not like Minerva's deep emerald, penetrating gaze…and she felt her breath catch, hand coming up to her mouth. "I…" She took a steadying breath, forcing her mind away from the similarities that Sirius had unknowingly brought to light between what she sought in a prospective partner and, of all people, Minerva McGonagall. "Well…" She cleared her throat, "I don't have one, nor am I looking for one, Sirius." She said, eyes turning to take in Harry and Ginny. "However, your mom and dad were trying to be helpful, in asking what I was looking for…and, though I stated several characteristics, I did omit one."

Sirius nodded to his aunt, a large smile across his face. "What? A killer quidditch player?"

Hermione shook her head, "No," A slight twinkle brightening her eyes, "A person whose passionate kiss will steal my breath away."

Sirius' face scrunched up, "Ewwww…way too much information."

Harry tenderly looked at Ginny, hand rubbing across her back as she turned to him, a look of understanding passing between them along with a soft, tender smile. "You'll find that person." Ginny quietly stated, her eyes still riveted on Harry's.

"Adults…I'm outta here…" Sirius mumbled, after he leaned in and gave Hermione a quick peck on her cheek. "See ya later, Aunt Hermione." He was already half way through the door before he paused, as if in thought. "Although, isn't Uncle Ron going to be upset if you start to date someone?"

"No more than I will be when he starts dating." Hermione replied.

Sirius' brow furloughed together as he processed her statement, "Right." He muttered, and then nodded as if it all suddenly made sense before disappearing from sight.

Harry took the momentary reprieve and leaned in, giving Ginny a gentle kiss before turning to Hermione. "I don't know, Hermione. Sirius did peg a rather serendipitous, although apropos fit. However," He paused, mirth lining his eyes. "I think your last characteristic may have eliminated even McGonagall…"

"I don't know, Harry…" Ginny's eyes slid over to Hermione. "She may be far more passionate than one would believe underneath that cool exterior."

Hermione could feel her cheeks blazing, but met Ginny's gaze. "Why Ginny…what are you inferring?" Her voice dropping as it became sultry, "Do you have first hand information…?"

Harry busted out laughing at Ginny's incredulous expression, "Priceless, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head, smile still on her flushed face but her thoughts returned to the night at the Simmons property as it so often did these past few days. "Harry…" She said, "Are you available tomorrow morning?"

He took in a deep breath, "Sure. I don't go in until after lunch, why? What's up?"

"I was hoping I could work with you for an hour, my dueling has gotten rusty…"

Instantly Harry and Ginny's face sobered, "Of course." He replied. "I've got time, and you might want to practice against Ginny too. She's far more inventive than I am. Maybe we can make it somewhat regular."

Hermione rolled her glass along the table, "Defiantly. It's been years, and after the other night…I don't want to be caught flat-footed."

Harry nodded, "Just yesterday, George said that if McGonagall hadn't arrived when she did, he didn't know if he would have made it. He said his first protego charm barely slowed down the spell. Only a few of us practice defensive spells regularly, and actually, it might be a good idea to get the Order to brush up…"

"Why not restart the DA." Ginny said. "Have everyone in the Order attend…"

"Maybe not McGonagall," Harry interjected as he recalled the testimony from the duel at Diagon Alley, "Unless she is teaching."

"You've got to wonder, who she practices against." Ginny stated.

Harry shook his head, "Don't know, but whoever they are, they've got to be damn good."

Hermione starred at the table, eyes seeing past the wood. Minerva was the best witch of their age…Hermione had seen McGonagall do things that no one, save…Albus Dumbledore could possibly have done, and she had done them with seamless precision…"Dumbledore." Hermione said quietly, pulling her gaze up. "I bet she used to practice against Dumbledore." Both Harry and Ginny looked to her as she continued. "They both would have needed to practice to maintain their level of expertise…they worked together for the better part of forty years where they lived 9 months of the year, who else is there?"

"Even if that is true, who does she duel against now?" Ginny asked. "She's obviously maintained her skill."

"For starters, I'd say Johannes Harkiss…" Harry continued on, "And the men at Simmons estate."

"She almost died…" Hermione quietly declared, "Both times." Her voice becoming firm, "I'd say, even she needs the practice."

"Perhaps, but…if she needs practice, I'd say the rest of us are far more than rusty." Ginny interjected, as she recalled the articles in Prophet after her duel at Diagon Alley and then again four nights ago at the Simmons and George's conversation…

"Rusty or no, it would do well for _all_ of us to practice." Harry reiterated, clearing his throat. "And speaking of practice, Hermione…you need a bit more when lying to your friends."

Hermione balked… "Lying?"

Harry stepped around the kitchen island, bringing him to within two foot of her. "This morning when Helena pulled you away from the Order meeting. What were you about to share with everyone that you didn't after she spoke to you?"

Hermione raised her eyes up to his, both searching the others. "I can't Harry." Her voice strained with emotion.

"If has to do with the Order…" He began, but she interrupted.

"It doesn't have to do with the Order," At his disbelieving look, she expanded. "But one of its members."

"Who?" Worry laced Harry's voice concerned that Hermione was hurt far worse than she indicated after the other evening.

Hermione shook her head, "I promised Harry."

Ginny's voice breaking their momentary deadlock gaze. "McGonagall."

"Huh?" Harry asked dumbfounded…as Hermione shot her friend a look who was continuing on with her flawless logic.

"Something happened the other night at the Simmons, and after. It had to involve the persons there, and that only included Simmons, you and McGonagall and who out of you three would Helena Harrison, St. Mungos Administrator and the Headmistresses friend be concerned with enough to interrupt you at an Order meeting and ask to speak with you outside? She is the only one who knows what is going on regarding McGonagall's health, and I'm betting a year's wage, that you learned or saw something she wishes you hadn't."

Harry could see the truth of Ginny's explanation in Hermione's face, "What did you see?"

Hermione opened her mouth…wanting to tell her dearest friends, but she recalled Helena's icy expression immediately followed by the broken and scorched body of Minerva McGonagall. _It is her life…whom you are trying to help save that you know nothing about…If you care about her, Hermione, you'll respect her wishes. _"You're right, I did see something." She whispered, "And I was going to inform the Order, but it isn't my right to share…not even with the two of you."

"Surely you can tell us." He declared.

"Not this time." She stated, eyes holding the burden of knowledge, "But know that for some people," She cleared her throat, brown eyes drilling into his, willing him to read between the lines, "Perhaps St. Mungos is not the preferred choice…Hogwarts is."

Xoxxoxooxoxxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxoxxo

_**August 16**__**th**__**, 2009**_

Hermione dodged to the side, feeling the burning hex across her arm. _That was close, _she thought as she flipped her wrist, casting a boogie legged hex back at Ginny who deflected it with ease.

"You're supposed to be fluid with transfiguration, remember?" Ginny asked flipping her hair back, "Or even charms…" At that, she caused a row of stone statues to jump forward. "Use your environment, Hermione."

"Does she do this to you?" Hermione asked, casting Harry a dubious look.

"Yup." Harry replied. "That's why I like to duel against her."

"Do you ever win?" She asked as the statues blew apart and she morphed the stone into bludger size balls.

"Sometimes." He stated, eyes following the series of spells that began to flow between his wife and best friend.

A half hour had passed, sweat rolling down both witches brows…wisps of hair plastered to their foreheads as they took in haggard breaths. Their wand arms both pointed at the other…

"I'm out of shape." Hermione said between breaths, finally lowering her arm.

Harry started clapping, "Well done, well done indeed."

Ginny leaned back, straightening to her full height. "Well, if you're out of shape, then so am I."

"That was excellent, Hermione." Harry said walking towards them. "Great ingenuity and form."

"You almost had me no less than five minutes ago, that piece of transfiguration with the fence…damn good, but you paused." Ginny tucked her wand into her belt, "Why?"

Hermione's face twisted, "I didn't want to kill you, Ginny."

At this Harry shook his head, smile lighting his face. "Didn't you see the spell we cast before you started?"

"No?" She asked quizzically.

"It's a dueling spell, used for practice." Ginny answered.

Hermione's eyes darted to Ginny, "Practice, as in…"

"No one will die." She replied.

"Although, the duel can still cause quite a bit of damage." Harry stated, "But it's a hell of a way to train."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

_A/N: Next up – August 17th…Hermione's arrival at Hogwarts…and an unexpected twist occurs in Minerva's life :) Drop a line and let me know if you are still enjoying or any thoughts…_


	9. Chapter 8 August 17, 2009

**Chapter 8 ~ Monday, August 17****th****, 2009**

"Hello Hermione, or should I say…Professor Granger?" Minerva queried as she extended her hand in greeting.

Hermione finished stepping into Hogwarts before returning the firm handshake, "Hermione, and how did you know…?" And then she smiled as Minerva opened her mouth, both witches uttering the same phrase.

"All knowing..." Minerva continued on, her brow quirked. "I was, however, sorry to hear about you and Ronald."

Hermione's gait imperceptibly slowed, "Thank you."

"How are the children?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.

"They have accepted that we will not be reconciling," She paused, turning towards the Headmistress. "Beyond that, they're upset that they don't have both of us at home."

Minerva reached out, elegant fingers gently touching Hermione's upper arm as they both slowed to a stop. "Hermione…"

Hermione felt her breath catch as Minerva's head tipped just a quarter inch downwards, enabling her eyes to peer over the gold rims of her glasses. "You have wonderful children, and I have no doubt that they will not only accept, but given enough time, understand too."

"I hope so." Hermione whispered, eyes taking in the warmth emanating from the elder witch's gaze.

Minerva gave her a warm smile before straightening to her full height again, "Faith manages, Hermione." She said in a soft voice, her Gaelic ancestry creeping into her words. "You only need to be yourself, be honest, and your children will do the rest."

"I…" Hermione shook her head, breath caught in her throat. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

"It's not the right thing…" Minerva began to walk forward, Hermione falling into step beside her. "It's merely experience."

"Experience of a divorce?" Hermione frowned.

"Not divorce, dear." Minerva paused for a mere moment as she neared the base of the steps. "But I have a bit of insight regarding children."

"Speaking of," Hermione winced as they began to ascend the steps. "I was hoping to discuss what I would need to do regarding the children visiting here every other weekend."

"We will have to adjust the wards, and they are not permitted to be seen by the students." At Hermione's disbelieving expression, Minerva expanded upon her answer. "It is not difficult, nor is it a strain upon the child or the parents. There are several areas that are not accessible to the students, including the north lawn…Are you alright, Hermione?" Minerva asked as the younger woman continued limping up the steps.

Hermione and Minerva rounded the second set of stairs, "I am embarrassed to say, that yesterday I was in a practice duel with Ginny and find myself a bit on the sore side today." She turned her head. "Who do you…" The question went unasked, as Minerva had stopped mid-step. A foot upon each stair…her breaths coming slightly more labored, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face. "Minerva? Are _you_ alright?"

Minerva was leaning on her walking stick, chest becoming heavy, and she could feel her temperature rising as her vision momentarily wavered, "Yes." She said, feigning a smile and forced herself to take another step… "Just lost my breath a moment. I fear that I am still a bit fatigued from the other day."

"Do you need to see Poppy?" Hermione asked concerned.

Minerva gave her a brief shake of the head, "No, I believe I'll let you get settled in, and I may have a sandwich and a spot of tea."

"I'll be glad to walk with…"

"Nonsense," Minerva stated, "I'm fine. And you are already having difficulties ambulating the steps. I shall see you at dinner, Hermione."

"Thank you Minerva." Hermione said as Minerva turned, and began to descend the flight of steps, returning her to the second floor…and Hermione found herself watching the Headmistress for a moment as the kitchen conversation echoed in her head, for the umpteenth time. _Intelligent, brave…supportive…who are you talking about…McGonagall?_

She moved with such grace, a lady's grace…emerald robes flourishing around her and…shaking her head. _This is absurd,_ Hermione thought, turning around to ascend the last two sets of stairs before reaching her rooms. "They're just similarities…" She muttered before quietly finishing, _Nothing more._

Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxox

"Well?" Minerva asked as she pulled her cool glass of water from her forehead, eyes squinting against the now oppressively bright light.

Helena leaned back, eyes tracking the remnants of the diagnostic spell. "I…" Her brow furrowing at the results. "This doesn't make sense."

"You've said that before," She muttered, her voice becoming thick. "And oft times, it has been followed by less than savory news."

Helena made a quick arcing motion, another diagnostic spell shooting from the tip of her wand. "And from what I see, you'll like this about as well as the last bit of dreaded news I gave you."

Minerva closed her eyes, head resting in her hand as another wave of heat swept over her, she felt like she was back at the Simmons…her body was on fire. "I may seek a new best friend with the type of news you continue to bestow."

"No doubt." She said, as the magenta and purple mist swirled around Minerva. "There is good news, and news you will be less than pleased with."

"Am I dying today?" Minerva asked into arm, her voice bordering on breathless.

"No." Helena said with a sad smile. "Nor does it seem that your recent antics have brought you that much closer to death's call. Poppy's assessment remains sound, a year perhaps a bit more, perhaps a bit less."

"I fear if that is the good news, I don't know if I can stomach the bad." Minerva stated, her arm dropping away as she forced herself to steady her body into a sitting position.

"You're body is producing an inordinate amount of pheromones, and your hormone levels have, well, changed…" Helena stated as she sat down next to Minerva. At Minerva's questioning look she continued, "Your hormone levels now resemble those of a 30 year old woman, and if I didn't know any better I'd say your animagus' state is interfering…it's strange Minerva. Almost as though your human body is trying to mimic it animagus traits." She shrugged, thinking little of it. "I think you'll be a bit uncomfortable, but overall quite fine." A smile curled at the edge of her lips, "Now if you were a cat, I'd say you were going into heat, but you're not…so…"

"What?" She said, eyes narrowing as her Scottish lilt laced her words. "You've got to be joking."

"I wish I was." Helena said, placing her hand on the table. "I truly wish I was, Minerva, but your body…"

"How is this…?" She wiped her brow, "It's impossible…absurd."

"Amongst other things," Helena replied. "I haven't a clue as to what the impetus was, perhaps the oppressive heat the other night at the Simmons, the recent perpetual drain upon you and your magic, the bonding, Hogwarts or some combination there in. But the facts remains, Minerva, you're body has begun to change."

"I…" She rubbed her forehead, "Dear Merlin, Helena…I barely survived this before…"

"Before?" Helena asked, shocked, "When? What, before…?"

Minerva groaned at the recollection, "It began three weeks after I first transfigured into my animagus form."

"Animagus form…" Helena breathed out, realizing for the first time that she may have been in error in her previous statement. "You mean you…your animagus form…"

Minerva met Helena's disbelieving gaze with one of resignation. "Uncomfortable will be the least of my problems." She muttered before confirming Helena's outlandish notion. "I would prefer to call it something other than heat; but the effect is…shall we say, rather similar."

Helena stared wide-eyed at her dear friend, "I never knew…" She breathed out, a frown now lining her face, "How many years did it last?" Helena couldn't believe this. She had never known…never even suspected…

"Twelve." Minerva clipped in response. "And it didn't stop until I was married and bound."

"Well, this bodes poorly." Helena sighed. "Have you moved the whisky?" She stood up, immediately heading towards the walnut Curio cabinet.

"Just to my glass and back." Minerva replied, feeling her headache grow exponentially.

Helena opened the door, eyes greeted with some of the finest labeled whisky across the Scottish Isles, including an unopened bottle of 1914 silver labeled McGonagall Malt. "I didn't realize we left any of these unopened." She said, immediately pulling the gold bottle out, fingers curling around the lip of two glasses.

"We didn't." Minerva replied knowing what bottle Helena had grabbed. "That's from Derrik's estate."

Helena's gait momentarily faltering at the mention of her younger brother's name, "Derrik's estate? The small cabin on the north side of the property?"

"Yes, it's rather secluded."

"If you hadn't shown me, I never would have even realized…"

"No one does. It's warded to only permit family to even see it."

"That's the cabin your parents were at…" Helena said as she finally made the connection from sixty years ago.

Minerva nodded, "It was left to Derrik, after he died, Albus and I took a week and cleaned the cabin out, and we found a half dozen bottles in the bottom of the cellar, with a note." Minerva said through a disheartening smile. "Addressed to both of us."

"Oh?" Helena sat down and placed the glasses on the table. "To both of us, huh?"

A slight chuckle slipped from Minerva's throat, "If I recall, it said…to my dear sister and her troublesome friend, hands off. You've already gone through a dozen bottles…these are mine."

Helena tipped the bottle to Minerva, top up. "Do you want to open it? Or are we heeding your brother's words?"

Minerva reached out, fingers curling around the top. "We aren't getting any younger, and I could use a glass of a good malt. Especially after what you just said." She said as she cracked the silver labeled seal. "Besides, he would have wanted me to share…"

At this, Helena smiled, as she poured a copious amount of the rich amber fluid in each glass. "And I thank you for generous hospitality."

"To friends." Minerva said raising her glass.

"And family." Helena clinked her glass to Minerva's. Both witches paused for a moment out of respect for Derrik, and then upended their tumblers in one swift motion. "Damn, I forgot how good that was." Helena remarked, reaching for the bottle again.

"Perhaps a call to Harold?" Minerva said as Helena began refilling her glass.

"He'll be fine, besides, he's stuck at the Ministry and if I call…I'll have to leave, for my medical emergency will obviously have been handled. So, instead of enjoying an evening with my best friend and a bottle of ultra fine Malt, I'll be enjoying dinner with Kingsly, his wife, the Minister of Finance…what's that pompous ass's name?"

"Franc…don't you love the glory of politics."

Helena groaned, flipping her hat off. "The loathsome part of our jobs."

Minerva let her head fall back on to the arm of the sofa, "Speaking of loathsome…there's a Ministry function next Thursday." She sighed, "An evening of sparring jabs from Kingsley and company."

"Ministry function?"

Minerva tipped her head to the side, brow rising in response. "Don't tell me it hasn't made it onto your calendar."

Helena shrugged, "It very well may be, I haven't had the heart to look past this week. Dare I ask, what are we honoring this time?"

Minerva sat up, fingers curling around the tumbler. "The department of Magical Law Enforcements benefit dinner."

"For the family benefit fund?" Helena inquired, reaching for her own glass.

Minerva nodded, "It's a worthy enough cause, which I'll be attending, despite the sponsor."

Helena raised her glass, making a mental note to ensure that if it wasn't on her calendar, to put it there. It was an excellent cause, assisting the family of a loved one lost in the line of duty for the next year to adjust to life without their spouse, partner. Many of her friends had lived through the tragedy, "To friends lost."

Minerva brought the glass to the edge of her lips, before quietly stating. "To friends still here."

They both took an ample drink, lapsing into silence lost in thought. Minerva absently unfastened the top two buttons of her robe, rubbing her hand along the side of her neck.

"How many days does it last?" Helena asked, shaking her head as she took another sip. "I don't recall the effect being intense or I'm sure I would have noticed."

Minerva almost snorted her drink, "If only that were the case."

Helena leaned forward, frowning as she thought back to their twenties… "You never said…anything…"

"Of course I did," Minerva drew her legs up onto the sofa, wrist lazily twirling the glass in her hand. "Just not in so many direct words."

Helena leaned back, arm draping against the side of the couch as she got comfortable and began to think of their conversations… "I remember you had panache for traveling after Grindlewald fell…"

Minerva nodded, "That I did…about every 5 weeks."

"Every 5 weeks?" Helena asked, eyes narrowing in thought. "5 weeks…as in, in conjunction with your menstrual cycle?" She had always envied Minerva for her cycle being on the fifth week and not every fourth one, now she realized that Minerva may not have been as lucky as she had originally believed.

"Always the week before…" Minerva said, "And I bloody hell will never forgive whatever caused this wretched problem to start if I begin menstruating again too."

Helena fought the chuckle from erupting as she finished the last of her Malt, "How many days?" She asked, reaching for the bottle again.

"Three." She muttered, and then downed her glass. "You better fill it up." She said extending her arm out for a refill. "I don't want to be cognizant tomorrow."

Helena pulled the bottle back, both tumblers now full. "Come now, Minerva. It can't be _that_ bad."

Minerva sighed, "Oh, it's dreadful, Helena. Absolutely dreadful." She took another deep swallow. "If what you say is true, and it has begun…the first day is uncomfortable. My hearing, eyes, and nose all become more acute. As does my sense of touch. I become frightfully warm…a slow burn begins deep within my bones, seeking relief. On the latter part of the second day and beginning of the third day, I want nothing more than to satiate the need. Thankfully, the feeling wanes by the end of the third day…."

"What did you used to do?" Helena asked, more than a little curious as to how Minerva used to cope.

"On occasion," Minerva smiled at the memories…before leveling her gaze at Helena "Give in to the impulse…"

"The summer of 1948 and your frequent trips to Egypt, Katal…wasn't it?"

"He was a marvelous lover." She said as she wandlessly summoned the pins from her hair, setting them upon the coffee table as her hair spilled free. "But it started because I wanted relief…and sought companionship." At this she took another deep sip, "I…"

Helena could tell Minerva was struggling with the words, "If you don't want to speak or share this, you know you don't have to."

Minerva gave a shuttering sigh, "It is hard to admit that there were times when I had absolutely no control, Helena. I have only ever shared the truth with Albus…" A gentle smile crossed her features, as she tried to appease her friend's sudden anxiety. "It was never a matter of trust, Helena, but at that time of my life…it dealt more with shame."

"Oh, Minerva." Tears threatening Helena's blue eyes, "There is nothing you could have done or do that would ever cause me to feel ashamed of you. You are my best friend…and I love you dearly, and couldn't be prouder to call you and count you as my friend."

"Perhaps now, but you must realize that for a twelve to fourteen hour window, there were times that I couldn't control my actions. It was…and I daresay, will be awful. For several months, I could resist…but the greater the duration, the greater the need..."

"Need…as in…" Helena upended the last of her drink at Minerva's nod. "How long, did you ever…remain celibate at any given time?"

Minerva shuddered at the memory, "The longest was eleven months, but it became so over-bearing…" She forced the words to continue, despite the dryness of her mouth. "My body completely overrode my mind to appease the fire within my veins..." She cleared her parched throat, "After that, I never pushed my limits to that extent again…"

"How long did you…I mean, was it really _that_ easy…to uhmm satisfy…" Helena's cheeks were glowing.

"Typically four months…and yes." Minerva said relishing the notion that she was not the only one having difficulty discussing the topic. "It seemed that on the latter part of the second day, it was difficult for any wizard…" She paused, and felt her throat catch. It wasn't as if she was ashamed of who she had slept with…but, to openly discuss it…was another fact altogether. However, she had started this line of conversation, and she would not diminish what had been several very enjoyable, sensual and rather pleasurable encounters. "Or witch to resist me if my site landed upon them."

"That's why you use to leave or seclude yourself?"

Minerva pushed her shame away; she needed to make Helena understand. "As the months would pass, I would rather leave…than take the chance and wake up next to a friend." Her voice becoming thick, "To know that you may ruin a friendship because of a twelve hour window that you have little control over. It was not something I would risk, even with you."

"Surely, when you say wizard or witch…"

Minerva's brow arched, "You know very well, that I always mean what I say."

Helena suddenly felt her own cheeks flush at the notion that her best friend, the epitome of a lady... "How many people…" She cleared her throat, trying again. "I never would have imagined…"

Minerva shook her head, voice low, hurt. "No, I daresay not."

Helena rapidly raised her hand, almost spilling her drink. "No, it's not that I'm ashamed or think what you did improper, Minerva. You just…" She paused, leaning forward, raising her hand until her fingers touched the tip of Minerva's chin…imperceptibly lifting it, until their eyes met. Tears filling both blue and green ones, "I would never have imagined what you use to go through…and I am so incredibly sorry that you didn't feel you could share it with me."

Minerva closed her eyes…a trail of tears running down her cheeks, dripping off her jaw as she pulled away. "I never wanted anyone's pity." Her voice almost breaking as her thick Scottish accent laced her words. "Especially yours. You were such a wonderful friend for me after everything that had happened…and I couldn't burden you with more."

"It wouldn't have been a burden…"

Minerva took a weary sigh, opening her tear stricken emerald eyes. "To know that your best friend thought that you were an alluring witch…and may not have been able to control herself?" The color in Helena's ears and cheeks becoming more pronounced, "I think not."

"I…" Helena was truly at a loss for words, openly staring at Minerva.

She in turn downed the remainder of her drink, before her distinct voice broke the silence. "We were young, and I had no clue what was going on with my body…just an overbearing need, and I remember meeting you at Xyle's and thinking how beautiful you looked…" Her voice trailing off as she recalled the long midnight blue robes that matched her eyes…

"I remember," Helena gasped, hand coming up to her mouth before sliding down her skin to her jaw. "When you leaned in and whispered good night…" She could still feel the flutter of breath across her skin, "You almost kissed me, didn't you?"

There was a long, dead silent moment before Minerva slowly turned back to Helena. "Yes, I did." She stated, "Instead, I went for a swim in the loch that night…"

"It couldn't have been more than twenty degrees out, what were you thinking?"

Minerva shrugged, as she poured herself and Helena another generous portion. "That my body was on fire…" Her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned back, "And that I almost kissed my best friend."

Helena felt her chest constrict, but forced the truth from her lips. "I remember thinking how graceful you were that night…the way your hair framed your face, how rich your laugh was…the way your eyes sparkled against the candlelight…and as you turned, I reached out to stop you, but you had already apparated away." Helena paused, recalling the potent sense of longing she had felt as she stared off into the blackness. "I stood there for quite some time wondering if you had meant to do something more…and wishing you had."

Minerva fought back the tears, "That night was my first experience of what could happen, and I was mortified…that I would even think of kissing you, that I…" Her gaze dropped to the amber liquid. "Never put myself in that situation again."

"And what I felt for you? That was purely the effect of the animagus…?" Helena asked, trying to gain understanding to feelings she had long since buried…but had never gone too far from her mind.

"I used to wonder," Minerva quietly began, "If it was more than my animagus state, and…" She paused at Helena's penetrating gaze, "I discovered that there were people who could resist the temptation, but if they had an attraction…during those three days, it was substantially augmented."

"So…my feelings, were…"

Minerva stilled the flutter of her chest as she spoke, "Were there…before you fell in love with Michael," She smiled, "And finally Harold."

"The three days…you would purposefully stay away?"

Minerva nodded, "Initially, and then…" She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing as she spoke…her Highland lilt distinctly prevalent. "I discovered how wonderful sex could be during those days."

Helena unconsciously loosened the neck line of her robes, "And?"

Minerva delayed the answer for a moment as she took another long sip of her drink, savoring the luxurious taste. "I became _very_ experienced."

"As in very…or _very_ experienced?" Unadulterated curiosity lacing her voice.

Minerva reached over, grasping her wand, and with a singular wave, her hair twirled into a long braid. "As in," She set her wand back down, "Exceptionally." She pushed herself back, fingers loosely holding the glass tumbler as her hand fell from the cushion. "Initially I merely sought release, then I began experimenting, and later I tried to restrain myself as I tended to be in relationships." A warm smile tugging at her lips, "And at times…it was pure torture."

"Albus?" Helena asked.

"Oh…torture is as good as word as any." Her eyes drifted off as she recalled those years. "You know I had a bit of a crush on him during our 7th year, and when I began dating him…ohhhh, I would have Bonnie put chunks of ice in my bath during those months where I wasn't able to leave the area because of my other commitments." Just the thought brought Goosebumps to her flesh. "It's hard enough when there is an attraction by the other person, but when I share it…that's when I have a devil of a time controlling my actions."

"Did you ever slip when around him?" Helena asked, picturing a mortified Minerva after spending a steamy evening with Albus.

"Not in the way you would think." She cryptically replied.

"And?" Helena asked, grin becoming larger.

"I've suffered enough embarrassment for one evening." Minerva said.

"Ohhh, then it's got to be good." Helena stood, "Albus?" She called out, as she began walking towards Minerva's bedroom.

At once Minerva stood, "He won't tell you." She stated, beginning to follow, but then she felt the magic flow through her as the Gargoyle was activated. "Helena…" Her voice becoming crisp as she stepped to the edge of the doorframe as Helena pulled to a stop in front of her best friend's husband.

"Albus…" She had started.

"I'm afraid, I have business to attend, and I'll be back in a few moments." Minerva stated, "And Albus, I trust you to hold your tongue."

"We'll be fine…" Helena replied, eying the portrait. "Won't we?"

Minerva shook her head at Albus' twinkling expression, and as Helena's voice began inquiring about how they had actually gotten together, Minerva knew her secret was safe. At once she summoned her wand and transfigured it into a walking stick before closing the door to her private chambers, and on the conversation. She heard a knock at the door to her office as she began descending the stairs, careful to hold onto the rail.

"Minerva?" Came Hermione's voice as she stepped onto the solid floor.

"Good evening, Hermione." Minerva stated while walking into her office.

Hermione felt her breath leave her lungs as Minerva entered the room, she looked like a very different witch other than the one who had greeted her a mere seven hours ago at the Oak door. She had a glow about her…making her appear years younger. Her hair was no longer confined in its typical tight bun, but now hung in a loose, albeit long braid down her back that was not clasped at the end. The top of her robes had been unfastened, cheeks a bit rosy… "You weren't at dinner, and after this afternoon, I was just…concerned."

Minerva narrowed her eyes, at not only trying to focus on the woman in the room, but also at the sudden surge of heat within her veins. _Well, obviously, Helena was correct in her diagnosis..._she thought to herself as the distinct smell of vanilla with a hint of almond washed over her. "I am well, Hermione." She felt the smile curling the edges of her lips without thought, "Thank you." And instead of ending the conversation, as she knew she should have, she found herself asking, "And have you finished unpacking?"

Hermione absently nodded, "Yes. Just before dinner."

Minerva opened her mouth, and Helena's voice rang through the office, "I can't believe he saw you and…" Then her eyes landed upon Hermione, "Ohh…hello, Hermione."

Minerva's head snapped around, the movement in conjunction with the sheer amount of alcohol consumed within such a short period, caused her to stagger, her arm reaching out to catch herself…hand grabbing the edge of the bookcase, her walking stick falling from her other hand…and then she felt a lean arm across her back, steadying her.

Her eyes closed for the briefest of moments as she gained her balance…relishing the warmth from the body heat so near her own.

"So much for graceful as a cat." Helena snickered, and Hermione couldn't stop the chuckle from slipping off her lips as Minerva almost instantly righted herself, wand jumping into her hand.

"And how dare you…" With a flick to the side and a quick one downward, a jet of yellow shot out of her wand and Helena literally dove back into the rooms. The bolt barely missing her, and then a loud shattering of glass exploding could be heard.

"You didn't!" Helena screeched.

"For the conversation you shouldn't have had..." Minerva stated as they could hear Helena scrambling to her feet.

"How could you…?" Helena's voice almost completely obscured from her cadence and the walls between.

Hermione felt suddenly out of place at the obvious relaxed and mildly frightful conversation between friends. She was struck at how different Minerva seemed tonight, and…as Minerva turned back to her. She realized that _this_ was Minerva McGonagall. Not the Headmistress of Hogwarts, not the heroine, not the greatest witch of the age, but the woman…interacting for better or worse with a very close friend.

Her eyes were alive, passionate…and burnt of a clear emerald green. Her breaths were slightly labored; causing her chest to rise…her cheeks flushed…wisps of hair dangling across her face…

Minerva turned back to Hermione, mildly elated at Helena's rather distressed reaction. She would have Elgin pull a bottle from her personal stores, and…she felt her body become acutely aware of the woman in front of her. She could feel her heart rate increase, her breaths coming just a hair faster, her cheeks flushing…_ It's a poor combination of alcohol, oncoming of an 'old' problem, and…she hadn't been with anyone since Albus' death…_she felt her mind pulling herself back from her momentary reaction.

Helena on the other hand, was about to cast a spell upon Minerva…but stopped as her eyes landed upon Minerva and Hermione less than three feet apart, gazes locked…_Perhaps she is the one,_ Helena thought…and then knew that if that was the case, it could not happen like this. Minerva would never believe it to be real…for that matter, permit it to happen. "Only half of the bloody bottle was gone." Minerva gracefully took a partial step back, twisting her head up to Helena as the blond witch continued. "What you did borders on sacrilege."

"What did she break?" Hermione asked, gazing up at Helena.

"Just a bottle of Malt." Minerva answered and began to walk towards the back of her office, consciously putting space between herself and Hermione.

"Not _just_ any bottle," Helena said leaning on the bronze casing. "A bottle of silver label 1914 McGonagall Malt Whisky."

Hermione shook her head, "I didn't realize that you had a whisky label, any good?"

"Pssshhh…good," Helena absently waved, "It's probably the best whisky available. But…from the little our esteemed Headmistress has let slip over the years…" She cast a look upon Minerva, "The family only marketed 100 cases to the public that year, and the last time I saw one for sale was at old McGregor's Pub. I went to buy it as a celebratory reminder from our youth, and it cost more than 9000 galleons."

"You've got to be joking." Hermione stated, wondering if Ian was a relation to the owner of the pub.

"Helena never jokes about money." Minerva said, "McGregor's huh?"

"And she just shattered a bottle?" Hermione asked, disbelief tracing her face as she pointed to Minerva.

Helena nodded in response, "She did."

Minerva continued on to herself, ignoring their conversation. "I may be interested in purchasing it if he stills has it."

At this Hermione turned back to Minerva, and then cast a gaze to Helena. "Is she, are you serious?" She couldn't imagine spending over 9000 galleons on one bottle of alcohol.

"Quite." Minerva stated.

"Unlike Harold and I…" Helena chuckled at Hermione's incredulous look directed to Minerva, "Or for that matter, most if not all of England, our dear Minerva has little if any concern regarding her financial security. And…after so rudely shattering the one we _were _drinking, I daresay you should have to replace it. And what better way than with a _full_ bottle."

"I believe I may…" Minerva stated, "But, not tonight."

Helena let out a deep breath, "Then I shall be resigned to finishing what remains in both yours and my glasses…" She turned to Hermione. "Ahhh, perhaps I shall be persuaded to let you finish her glass…"

Minerva felt her heart rate double at the notion…she could not and would not permit Hermione up to her rooms, tonight of all nights…after she had been drinking…nothing positive would come of it…

Hermione met Helena's blue gaze with her brown one. "As tempting as that sounds, and from what I've heard and after what I saw this evening, I doubt a solitary glass would be ample."

Helena laughed, "A woman after my heart, but you should at least try a sip. If only to know that it's worth every galleon. Wait…" She ducked back into Minerva's rooms, and within a few seconds had returned and was quickly making her way down the brass banister…glasses in hand.

"I believe you are going to get that drink whether you intend to or not." Minerva said, as Helena paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"Perhaps we've already had just a bit…" She said as she rested her back along the rail while she focused. "But it slides down with such ease."

"It must, as you both are drunk." Hermione said, causing both women to turn to her…

"Ridiculous." They stated at the same time, smiling at the other, "But we were indeed well on our way." Minerva stated, as Helena reached Hermione, handing her one of the two glasses.

"I'm sorry, Minerva…" Helena said, with a smug grin directed at her friend. "But there were only _two_ glasses left."

"I'll be glad to split…" Hermione began.

"Ohhh…no dear." Helena interrupted. "The Headmistress wouldn't hear of it, would you?"

"I'm afraid, she is correct. I have had quite a few glasses already, and several dozen bottles throughout my life. Please," She tipped her head to the glass in Hermione's hand. "Enjoy."

Hermione felt mildly awkward as her gaze dropped back to the amber liquid, to drink in front of Minerva…in her office, with the portraits of the Headmasters and Headmistress of Hogwarts gazing down upon them…

Helena could sense the younger witch's hesitation, and with a flip, summoned another glass and at once caught it in her hand. "Here." She said, pouring half of her precious liquid into the second glass. "No need for you to feel uncomfortable." She reached over and handed it to Minerva. "Although, for this, you'll have to find not only one, but two bottles."

Minerva accepted the tumbler with ease, her fingers delicately wrapping around the crystal. "I believe those terms can be arranged."

"To friends." Helena raised her glass.

Hermione raised hers as did Minerva…all three clinking the crystal. "Friends." Hermione repeated.

"Friends." Minerva's distinct lilt quietly following suite.

At once Helena and Hermione tipped their glasses back, Minerva paused for just a second, her mind tracing the subtle lines of Hermione's jaw, the way it connected to her throat…as she tipped her head back, exposing her neck…and at that point Minerva closed her own eyes, knowing that _this_ feeling was the result of a need based upon her animagus form, a need that had not been satiated in years…and she downed the whole of her drink. Loving how the rich light oak flavor burnt its way down her throat, bringing a moment of clarity…immediately followed by a burst of warmth through her body.

Hermione lifted the now empty glass up, gazing into it. "Wow." She quietly stated.

Helena smiled, "I have to say, it is worth every galleon."

"And then some." Hermione said as her hand dropped, still relishing how the liquid was ebbing through her system…like drinking fizzie whizzies…and instead of being contained in her mouth, it resonated through every part of her system it touched. "How much of this have you had tonight?"

"Not as much as I would have liked." Helena said, leveling her gaze at Minerva who was just opening her eyes.

"A half bottle." Minerva stated, as she reached out her hand to take the glass from Hermione.

"You were right, Helena…it does slide down easy." She handed the tumbler to Minerva, "It was wonderful, thank you."

"Quite welcome, dear." Helena replied, "And when we procure another bottle, we'll let you know."

Hermione nodded, taking a step back, eyes taking in both witches…their relaxed posture, easy manner…and she found herself _wanting_ to have that type of relationship with Minerva, not the one that they currently had. Granted, Minerva treated her with a great deal of respect, as an equal…friendly even, but never…in the same manner as Helena. "I couldn't…" She shook her head, "The cost…"

Minerva turned away from her desk, where she had set the glasses, "Let me worry about that minor detail, Hermione. I assure you that the acquisition of a few bottles shan't be a problem. Now, regarding when…" She leveled her eyes to Helena, "It may take me a week, perhaps longer," She stated, and then turned back to Hermione. "Perhaps early next month." At Hermione's concerned look, Minerva elaborated. "Don't worry, you'll have time."

"If not, let me talk to the Headmistress." Helena said, "It's all just a front anyway…"

"One I'd rather not test." Hermione said with mock seriousness. Causing Minerva to purse her lips and a smile to break across Helena's face. "Thank you for the drink, I'll see you at breakfast in the morning…" She directed to Minerva before turning to Helena, "Good night."

"Good night, Hermione." Helena replied, "Or should I say, Professor?"

Hermione shook her head, smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "That is going to take some getting used to."

Minerva remembered the feeling when she had started at Hogwarts, "Then perhaps, simply good night, Hermione."

Hermione gave them both a simple nod and turned and walked through the door…Minerva could feel her eyes wanting to trail after Hermione's figure, but instead she forced herself to turn to Helena instead of on the younger witch's retreating form.

"You like her." Helena said, as soon as the door closed.

"No," Minerva rebuked, "I don't."

"You do," Helena shook her head, "Admit it."

"Oh, for heaven's sake…" Minerva turned her head away, stating… "Elgin."

Immediately there was a soft pop and the elder house elf was standing quietly to the side of Minerva. "Yes, Headmistress."

"Elgin, would you be so kind as to bring a bottle of McGonagall Malt from my stores at home, silver label 1914?"

"Will you'se be wanting one bottle or two?"

Minerva didn't even ponder the question, "Just one."

"You welp." Helena breathed out.

Elgin nodded, "My's pleasure, Headmistress." And with a crack he was gone.

"I can't believe…"

"That I broke a bottle, or that I have more?" Minerva said, crossing her arms in front of her.

Helena screwed up her lips, "Of all the rotten things…"

"Helena…" Minerva voice cutting off Helena's. "This isn't a joke."

"Minerva…"

Tears were pulling in the corner of her emerald eyes. "This is my life."

A loud pop echoed in the office as Elgin reappeared, a bottle in each hand, which he placed on Minerva's desk… "Will you'se be needing anything else?"

"No." Minerva whispered, "Thank you Elgin."

With a soft crack, he was gone…leaving the two old friends alone.

"I didn't mean…God…" Helena whispered at Minerva's broken expression.

"How can I tell if there is an attraction, when my skin is on fire…yearning for a touch that cannot be? Of course there is chemistry, Helena…there would be with any person in my rooms tonight…and tomorrow, we would probably be lying naked draped across my bed."

"Then why am I…"

"You're bound to Harold." She said, the truth finally being pulled from the depths of her soul. "And you're my best friend…whom I see as only my best friend."

"So…I'm immune from your charming ways?" Helena said raising her brows…her antics were rewarded with a slight smile.

"It would seem." Minerva said dryly as she reached over, pulling the bottle to her and twisted the top off.

"What are you going to do?" Helena asked, gliding up next to her.

"I don't know." Minerva murmured, as she began to fill up their glasses. "Don't suppose you know of any potion that would suppress my blossoming problem."

"There have only been three recorded cases of animagus having their characteristics blended between their animal and human state in St. Mungos history." She said, hand resting on Minerva's shoulder. "What about seeking companionship?"

At this Minerva handed Helena her glass and grasped her own. "I can't." Defeat ringing in her voice.

"Can't or won't…?" Helena started, and then realized what Minerva's concern would be. "Dear Merlin, Minerva. The bonding…your symptoms…if you give into your feelings, will the bonding transfer to whomever you sleep with?"

At this, Minerva downed her entire glass…a slight cough erupting from her throat. "I don't know." She said, voice becoming low. "But I really don't _want _to take that chance, with anybody."

Dread filled Helena as she realized the extent of Minerva's distress… Her best friend was dying, and would be dead within two years at the longest…whose daughter's killer had returned with the intent of breaking into her beloved school to accomplish what could only happen if Hogwarts was destroyed…and as she tried to intercede against Johannes, she had somehow reactivated a gene from her animagus state, being in heat…that caused intense urges…which when she was younger could be satiated, but now…she would not take a lover, for fear it would cause her to be bound to said lover, forever. And she would rather live the last of her prestigious life in misery, than extend her life and be bound to someone over a night of passion whom she did not truly love. Not counting what would happen to Hogwarts if she bound herself to someone who was unworthy…subsequently binding them to Hogwarts.

"I'm so sorry, Minerva." She said, reaching out and wrapping her arms around her dearest friend.

Tears began flowing freely down her face, "I don't know how I'm going to do this…" She said, falling into her friend's embrace. "A max of two years…104 weeks…equating 21 bloody times that I'll have to resist." She breathed into Helena's shoulder. "21 times…" Tears blurring her eyes.

Helena rubbed her hand over Minerva's back, "You'll manage it…dear." She said, her heart breaking as she uttered the words. "You always do. You don't know how not to succeed."

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxooxoxox

_A/N: For those believing this is going to be a quick, Minerva is going to seduce Hermione…etc…think again :) The animagus problem, is just that to Minerva…a problem, which she is not inclined to seek relief as the potential to cause several other problems is rather high. We will, though, get to see how it affects her (evil chuckle resonates off in the distance) and her thoughts… This is shaping up to be well over a 1000pg story based upon where I currently am at and the pacing that has been set. As the date comes closer to the story's date, probably going to start posting in accordance to the date of the chapter in a few weeks…so the parts of the story that are in concurrent days (you'll be thrilled as you'll get updates, daily), but…the downside – when weeks at a time are skipped – there won't be any updates. Let me know what you think of the aforementioned idea…_


	10. Chapter 9 August 18, 2009

**Chapter 9 ~ Tuesday, August 18****th****, 2009**

Minerva rolled over…her head pounding as she shielded her eyes from the morning light. _Morning, already?_ She licked her dry lips, blinking…the world wanting to do anything but focus.

Sitting up…she could feel the sheet slide along her burning skin, pooling in her lap. The small movement causing an ache to begin building, seeking release. "Obviously didn't drink enough." She muttered before with a guttural groan, she stood up...the room spinning slightly.

At once, she could feel the dampness between her legs as she strode across her chambers and with a wave of her hand, a door appeared in the wall, leading into the bathroom. With a heavy sigh, she gazed at the shower, wishing for anything but what awaited her…a cold, lonely shower.

As she leaned in to turn the handle, she paused, noticing that she could read the fine filigree print on the brass handles, print she hadn't been able to read in years. _Well I guess there is something good from this_, she thought as the cold water began to pour from the faucet.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged her fevered body under the water…and immediately felt the effects as shivers and goose flesh traveled down her body. "21." She muttered into the water, feeling it strike her lips. Lips she would love to have sliding along a lover's body…

Breathing out as she pushed the thought aside, she leaned into the water…her hair momentarily absorbing the water, before cool rivers began running down her ebony mass and onto her back.

Minerva endured the frigid water for another ten minutes, she was sure the tips of her fingers matched the color of her lips, blue. With a shaky hand, she reached out and grabbed the towel…but stopped as soon as the fabric touched her hardened nipples…

"Air dry." She gasped, and with a flip of her head had leaned forward and wrapped the towel around her hair. After straightening, she glanced at herself in the mirror...fingers gently tracing the four faint scars marring the expanse between her breasts; and then her hand dropped to her right side…where a three inch strip of garish, sandpaper skin greeted her fingers. She could still remember when Grindlewald had literally peeled some of her flesh from her body. Shaking her head at the memory, her eyes momentarily paused at the green orbs staring back.

Eyes that had born witness to so much…

pain…

joy…

love…

death…

That they had almost become foreign to her. Where had the woman behind those eyes gone?

"Mistress Minerva…" Elgin's voice broke the quiet morning air.

Minerva moved away from the mirror, her fingers pulling an ivory silk robe from its hook. _Morning had begun_, she thought as she slipped her arm through the sleeve and as she tied the belt, she stepped into her chambers.

"The morning report." He stated as he stretched out the parchment to her.

"Anything of interest?" She asked, eyes beginning to scan the document.

Elgin narrowed his eyes, "You'se not wearing you'se glasses."

Minerva nodded, "For the next two days, would you be kind enough to procure me a pair of glasses that look like mine, but have only standard glass as lenses."

He frowned, "Mistress not making much sense to Elgin."

"Every five weeks, I will be going through some difficult…" She paused, searching for the right word, "transitions, it has to do with Hogwarts and my reaction. For three days during that time, I will not need my standard glasses…"

"But you'se is needing everyone to believe you'se needs them." He stated, nodding. "I'se see you'se have a pair before breakfast."

"Thank you, but I won't need them prior to breakfast. I'll be eating up here this morning."

Elgin raised his brow, curious. It was rare for her to miss breakfast in the Great Hall. "Anything else, Mistress?"

"Thank you, no." She said, eyes returning to the report as she absently went to a small desk by the window. She stood reading for another few minutes before setting the parchment down, and drawing a blank one out of the drawer. Grasping the quill, she dipped it into the inkwell…dabbing it on the blotter. _She wasn't ready to face the world yet…even her staff,_ she paused in her thought as Hermione's graceful neck and sumptuous lips fluttered across her mind…_definitely not her staff,_ she thought as she penned a quick note to her Deputy.

_Filius ~_

I have business in the Highlands and will be back this evening. If I am needed, send word with Albus.

_Minerva_

Straightening, she rolled the parchment and with a whisper, the wax melted and

she smudged it along the fold before sealing it with her distinct mark embedded in the wax. Closing her eyes, she focused on where Filius was…and she smiled. He was just entering the Great Hall.

She shifted her concentration to the parchment and then the wards…and with a muffled ruffle, the paper vanished from the palm of her hand.

Minerva took another full minute to just stand there, collecting her thoughts before she ambled back into her main suite, knowing that breakfast was waiting for her. The door opened to reveal a large spread of her favorite breakfast foods, and two steaming pots; undoubtedly one of tea and the other coffee...and nestled between the two was a small taupe colored bottle, a headache potion. "Thank you, Elgin." She said, sitting down…alone for her breakfast.

Xoxoxxoxoxoooxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxox

Filius bounced into the Great Hall, a step in his gait. _It was turning out to be a marvelous day_, he thought, smile beaming across his face as he walked up to the summer staff table. A large circular table was seated in the middle of the Great Hall, no other tables or chairs were there, just the enchanted sky…and the splendor of the Hall.

"Good morning." He uttered to his colleagues, eyes momentarily stopping on Pomona. She looked lovely as the morning light cascaded down from the lofty windows, framing her beautiful face.

"Good morning," Several others rang out as he sat next to his wife, and Neville.

"Good morning, Filius." Neville uttered back between a mouthful of toast…his eyes along with Filius' and several others, including Hermione's were gravitating to the parchment now sitting atop his plate.

"Hmmmm." He reached out, and as he turned it around, noticed Minerva's distinct seal. Double M's imprinted just off the other, with ivy wrapped down one of the M's arms. He cast his eyes about the table, and he realized that she was indeed not at breakfast. A rarity to be sure.

Slitting the magical seal, he rolled open the parchment. Eyes quickly scanning the document, and he starred at it a moment too long…for he felt Pomona's hand gently touch his leg. In response, he met her worried gaze with a tender smile, and banished the parchment.

"As most of you have guessed, Minerva will not be joining us this morning." His high voice stated, "She has business in the Highlands and will not be here for the day."

A soft murmur rolled through the table, agitation prevalent in their conversation as it immediately turned from Hogwarts preparations to wondering why the Headmistress had left for the day. Especially prior to breakfast, as she rarely missed the meal.

Hermione set her pumpkin juice down, "Doesn't she have family in the Highlands?"

"Yes, she does." Pomona stated as she placed a dollop of orange marmalade onto her plate.

At once, the conversation shifted…the relaxed atmosphere returning...

"…probably visiting…"

"…hasn't had much time this summer…"

"…school year around the corner…"

Hermione cut into her omelet, her own mind wondering if Minerva was in the Highlands as she had indicated or elsewhere trying to find Johannes or find a lead to where he was. As she lifted her fork, her eyes cast a sideways glance to Filius, who chose that moment to look at her.

He gave her a subtle nod, before turning back to his lively conversation with Pomona.

_Or…_Hermione took the bite, _perhaps, she merely drank too much last evening._ She tried to fight off the smile the image of last night invoked…eyes sparkling, hair carefree, face lighter…and she found she didn't want to.

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxxxoxoxoxo

"Mistress Minerva." Elgin popped into her bedroom. "You'se asked me to inform fifteen minutes prior to dinner being served."

Minerva wearily raised her sweaty head off the now damp pillow, "Here." She said through dry lips, trying to hand a shaking piece of parchment to him.

"You'se returning immediately to Hogwarts." He stated, passing the parchment, hand outstretched. "And I's go'se gets Blonde's."

"Helena knows, Elgin, and you have to trust me when I tell you that…" She grit her teeth, and pushed herself upright.

Elgin immediately noticed that she was not wearing her usual multi-layered attire, nor her typical nightwear. Instead, she wore garments that he had not seen since the Headmaster's death. He was surprised how she didn't move to cover herself as she usually did, her thin chemise clinging to her soaked skin…she merely brushed a wet lock of hair back as she blinked, focusing her gaze at him.

"This..." She waved at herself, "Is part of the transition I spoke of earlier."

Elgin's expression showed his disbelief. "You'se is sweating through you'se clothes…cheeks is flushed," He reached out, gently touching her arm. "And you'se skin is quite warm. These is not symptoms of a transition…"

Minerva gently patted his wrinkled hand with her own, "I'm afraid it is." She said, leaning back, into the pillows. "It activated my animagus traits, traits that I have not dealt with since shortly after marrying Albus."

Elgin's large yellow eyes met her emerald ones, measuring the truth of her words…words similar to those once uttered about his Mistress by his previous Master, Albus. Slowly he nodded his knobby head, "Every five weeks for three days, if's it's last longer, I's gets Blonde's."

"I would expect nothing less, Elgin." She said, "Please take this to Filius…" She moved the parchment closer to him, closing her eyes in the process.

"Is you'se be needing anything else?" He asked, gently taking the rolled document.

"I'll be staying here this evening…and won't be returning to Hogwarts until after lunch tomorrow." She stated, breaths slightly winded.

"I's have reports brought here…and meals is too." He gently stated.

"Thank you. And Elgin," Her voice becoming quiet and her lilt thick. "Only Helena, Filius and Pomona know of my whereabouts."

"Gets some rest Mistress Minerva." He conjured a wet, cool cloth and laid it across her forehead, "You'se be feeling better soon."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxooxoxoxoxo

Hermione glided into the Great Hall, eyes instantly noticing the handful of her colleagues already at dinner. Filius, Clemons Cystra, the Potions Master, and Hagrid were involved in an animated conversation about the current strained relations between the Headmistress and the Minister. Pomona and Poppy were the only other two Professors who had arrived. She was sure Neville would be attending shortly, he always arrived just after Pomona. The other two dozen professors and half dozen staff would be drifting in over the course of the next half hour…and she idly wondered if the Headmistress would be joining them tonight. It had been two evenings since she had arrived and stumbled upon Minerva and Helena drinking a rather fine bottle of whisky, and she had not seen the Headmistress since. Minerva had been serendipitously absent from Hogwarts for the past two days.

With long strides, she was quickly up at the table, pulling out the chair as she gave a nod to Pomona and Poppy. "Good evening."

Pomona turned, as did Poppy, both women smiling as she sat down. "Evening." "Good evening." They replied sequentially.

"How are the devil snare seedlings?" Hermione asked.

"Doing quite good, we have had a bit of a problem germinating them this year despite Neville's caring hand." Pomona stated, as she placed some Halibot onto her plate.

"Are you still planning on leaving at the end of the year?" Poppy quietly asked, Hermione barely hearing.

Pomona swallowed, eyes momentarily drifting towards Filius. "I don't know." She fought for a smile, trying to hide the pain of what Filius had discussed with her just a week and a half before; that her dearest friend was dying…soon. "I'll…probably be staying on for at least a year past this one."

Poppy frowned, "I thought you and Filius were going to travel to Greece on sabbatical next fall."

Pomona nodded, "We were, but a lot has changed this past summer." She said, her normally kind eyes fixing knowingly at Poppy. "And I don't want to leave until it's…resolved."

Poppy searched her friend's face…stopping at her eyes. _She knew._

Hermione hadn't moved, hadn't even breathed as she quietly stared at the two witches. _What could possibly cause Pomona and Filius to forestall their respective sabbaticals while they waited until something was resolved, and the notion brought tears to her eyes?_

The distinct gait and matching rhythmic clicking between heeled shoes and walking stick caused the conversations to stop, heads to turn, and open smiles to grace everyone's faces as they bid the Headmistress a chorus of "Good Evenings", Hermione included.

"It is good to see each of you." She replied as she quickly covered the distance to the table, before pulling out and sitting in a chair next to Hermione and a vacant seat.

"Hello, Minerva." Hermione stated, turning to the formidable witch.

"Hermione." She quietly replied, as she slid her chair to the table.

"How were the Highlands?" Hermione inquired, noticing the dark circles beneath the elder woman's eyes.

Minerva forced her face to remain impassive and her hand steady at Hermione's innocent question. "Not quite as restful as I had hoped." She replied desperately trying to keep the exhaustion from her voice. Yesterday had been unbearably long, as she hadn't gone to bed until 7 this morning, after the intense heat flashes ceased. Elgin had coaxed her into a light breakfast just past one this afternoon, before she had begun tackling the reams of correspondence that was already awaiting her.

"Sorry to hear that." Hermione began pouring herself some pumpkin juice. "Juice?"

Minerva gave a solitary nod, feeling her tired muscles pull along her neck. "Yes, thank you." Before reaching outward, even her arms were tired, she thought, as she spooned a helping of green bean casserole onto her plate. If she hadn't missed the past six meals, she would have foregone dinner and gone to bed and not bothered with the formalities. She had far too many things that needed to be taken care of, and she could ill afford another unproductive day tomorrow as she recovered. Forcing her fatigue at bay and a smile on her face, she glanced to the witch by her side.

Helena was right, and she had had ample time to realize the fact, whether she wanted to or not. She needed someone to accompany her regarding Order and Johannes business…and despite the other evening, and her reaction to the young woman, Hermione was the best candidate other than her daughter. And she would _not_ be asking Tessa to assist her. She loathed the notion of _having _to ask, and would not even consider asking anyone were not their current situation so dire and her own precarious health.

"Have you had the opportunity to read the Willowbrook's article in the August Transfiguration Journal?" Hermione's question quickly brought Minerva's meandering mind back to the matter at hand.

"I'm ashamed to say, that I have fallen behind these past few weeks in my reading." Her eyes twinkling in response.

"I can't imagine why." Hermione chuckled at her dry witticism.

"Were his results stasis or live based?" Minerva asked, curious if Xavier had managed to stabilize the transfiguration.

"Stasis, but stable." Hermione replied, "And he is going to begin live transfiguration in his next set of trials."

Their conversation centered around Xavier's study and flowed easily between them, making dinner pass quickly despite Minerva's overbearing fatigue. She stood to return to her rooms, bidding everyone 'Good night' as she stifled her third yawn in as many minutes, Minerva paused…eyes momentarily darting to Hermione. Helena's assessment was right, Hermione was the best candidate…she was intelligent, able to take care of herself, brave, excellent deduction skills…and Minerva could carry on a conversation _with _her.

She gave the younger witch a brief nod…before turning and walking out of the Hall. She would swallow her pride and ask Hermione for assistance when she went out. She rounded the corner, stepping onto the main stairwell…the stairs instantly snapping to the second floor by her office.

Now…she just needed to ask her.

And if she said yes; begin training her in how to proactively duel more than one opponent at a time and win; or they would both end up dead.

xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_A/N: I know it's a fairly short chapter; I'll probably update once more (no promises) before next Friday. And…to think…Minerva gets to 'deal' with this every 5 weeks..._


	11. Chapter 10 August 22, 2009

**Chapter 10 ~ Saturday, August 22****nd****, 2009**

Percival stepped through the Floo, eyes fixing on Minerva. "Why would you agree to such foolishness?" Percival asked, blue eyes blazing.

Minerva turned from Helena, eying her son. "I daresay we wait a moment, as I'm sure your sister will be along…" As if on cue, the flames in the grate jumped and out stepped Tessa.

"Mother," Tessa barely acknowledged the other persons in the room, "I can't believe…"

"That I instituted a precaution that may save lives? Or that I'm forcing you both to abide by it?" She snapped.

"To practice duel is ludicrous…" Percival began.

"Oh don't be so Gods damned pig headed." Tessa said, spinning towards her brother. "I bet you haven't cast a protego charm in a decade."

"Brewing potions tends to be done without charms, but it doesn't mean I can't cast a simple protego charm." He quipped back. "Besides, you can't tell me that the notion of practice dueling appeals to you. You, who has immersed yourself in Alchemy, tell me when you last raised your wand for more than a summoning charm?"

"For the record, Malcolm and I still duel monthly. Or did you forget how our sister…"

"Enough." Minerva stated. Percival and Tessa, the last of her children, were diametrical opposites. The only thing they could agree on, was that they couldn't. During their youth, Esmerel and Callum often played as the intermediaries between them as it seemed that all of her and Albus' stubbornness had landed upon their two eldest. All of the children had excelled in their endeavors, but Percival and Tessa had been naturals in their chosen fields. Both had attained the level of Master before their thirtieth birthday.

After Callum, Elizabeth and Brianna's death, the relations between her children had been strained. Each had blamed themselves and their parents for not protecting the youngest of the family, who had, at that point, more to live for than the rest. He had been the first to marry, the family loving the lively American witch, Elizabeth Grant. And shortly after their marriage, announced that they would be expecting a child. Albus and Minerva's first grandchild…Brianna McDore.

"Although you are both exceptional in your fields, and you were trained by both your father and I on _how_ to duel, it doesn't mean that you have maintained that skill."

Tessa nodded, "I concur, mother, but my overriding concern is…"

"I don't." Percival said, interjecting. "I am confident that we could take Johannes in a duel."

"Pride, in this instance, is not an asset, Percival." Helena stated, stepping beside Minerva. "Your mother barely survived, and she is a far better than either of you."

Minerva gently laid her hand on Helena's arm barely shaking her head before turning to her son. "We can settle this quite easily in the front lawns, Percival. If you can best me in ten minutes or less, then you have no need to practice."

Percival's face blanched, he had never been able to beat his mother even when he was practicing almost every day. "You know that I…" He stammered onward. "Was never able to take you…"

Minerva took a small step forward, "Yes, I am aware, but I need to know that as my son, you are safe. I have lost two children already, and I refuse to lose either of you." Her voice becoming broken, tears in her eyes as she continued on. "So, you can admit that your pride and stubbornness are clouding your judgment in this instance, or we can duel. But I won't lose you because you feel that you are above practicing the art of dueling. Johannes used to practice against your father for hours and has turned into an ingenious duelist, one that I had trouble fighting against."

"Would you have been able to take him if you were a hundred percent?" Tessa asked, worry shading her blue eyes.

"I don't know, honey." She said looking at Tessa. "All I do know, is that even at your height, when our duels use to last an hour, you may have lived, while…" She turned away from her daughter, bringing her eyes to her eldest son. "You would have died. Dueling is not an area of strength for you, never has been."

"Fine," Blue eyes conceded, "I'll begin practice dueling…"

A huge smile broke across Tessa's face, "Sweet. Are you going to be my dueling partner?"

His face fell, "Mother…" He began, "I beg of you…"

Minerva shook her head, "Everyone's partners will be rotating save for a small handful."

"About that," Tessa cleared her throat, immediately switching gears. "That's why I came over…" Eyes narrowing, "You don't seriously expect Mom to duel you, do you Aunt Helena? Her magic is not even half of what it used to be…"

"And waning." Helena stated, drawing a terse look from Minerva.

"You realize I haven't left and can hear you." Minerva said, gazing turning cold.

"Yes, but the fact remains. Your magic, albeit exceptionally strong, is waning. You have roughly 60 percent of the magical stores you once did. You know this, as do I, and so do they. And they, along with me, are concerned about _you_." Helena turned back to Tessa, voice softening, "No, we won't be doing anything of the kind, dear. Constant dueling would deplete your mother's magical stores even faster, and as you both know, that is the last thing any of us want. That it why I am slated to be her partner, on a permanent basis."

"How will you get around practice at the meetings?" Tessa inquired. She knew her mother and aunt were incredibly resourceful, but even so, members of the Order would expect an occasional duel between them.

"Let us worry about that, dear." Helena stated, smiling, "You just begin practicing."

"Well, what about you, Aunt Helena?" Tessa frowned, "I'm sure your skills are as rusty as ours, if not more so."

At this comment, the two older witches turned to the other, knowing how true those words were. A long second passed between them, as both measured how far they would be willing to let this charade go to ensure that Minerva would not get any weaker, and that her children were beginning practicing necessary precautions. Their answer was reflected in their eyes, _she would do anything for Minerva, and they both would do anything for either of their remaining children. _"Harold will assist in helping me brush up, so to speak."

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Rosmerta set the drinks down on the round table, "A bit early to be starting off the day."

"Thank you, Rosmerta." Harry said, picking up the firewhisky.

She gave a curt nod and left the small gathering.

"It ought to be a right sight to see who Flitwick gets paired up against." George stated, taking his drink from the cluster.

"Why? I would think it'll be more interesting to see who has to engage the Headmistress." Percy chimed in.

"He was a world renowned duelist in his youth." George explained.

"Well, I think the opportune words were _in his youth_." Dean said as he passed out the last of the glasses. "I mean, come on, it'll be us teaching them."

A round of laughter erupted from the table, before Hermione spoke. "I doubt it will be quite that one sided."

Ginny's mouth quirked, "I know you're a Professor and all, but…I think Dean's right. It'll be us providing the practice to them."

"As long as I don't have to duel McG, it's all good." George's eyes sparkling as he continued on, overriding Dean and Seamus' weak-hearted interruptions. "Believe what you will, but I have seen her in action, and she'll clean the floor with entire lot of us."

Hermione nodded her head, "She'll do more than that."

At this Angelina frowned, "Ahhh, come off it. She's good, maybe the best out of the older generation, but I think Harry or you," She turned to Hermione, "Could take her."

George raised his eyes at Hermione, "Well? You've seen her in action, twice. Can anyone here take her?"

Hermione didn't have to think to answer the question, but she took a few seconds, pretending to eye each person individually…and weight their odds on how long they would last against Minerva. "No. I would wager, none of us would last longer than five minutes against her."

"Ohhh…now there's an idea." George said, leaning forward. "How about we propose a tournament, our parents and older members versus us?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know, I've never seen either of Harrison's duel, the two McDore's or the O'Connell's. It might not be as one sided as we think."

"What of that Scottish guy?" Dean asked.

"Wallace?" Seamus guessed, and at Dean's nod, he answered with a shake of his head. "Not quite run of the mill wizard, lives up in the hills. Should be able to take him in half a dozen spells or less."

"Is he connected to the McGonagall family?" Hermione asked, hoping Seamus might have a bit of insight into the man.

"No," He frowned, "At least not through family relations."

"Kind-hearted yes, but that doesn't mean they can't duel." Hermione stated.

A small smirk laced Ron's lips. "Perhaps, but I'm having a devil snare's time picturing Sprout in a duel."

Another round of laughter echoed from the table of friends, and Rosmerta shook her head at their conversation…children, they had a lot to learn.

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"Good evening, Rosmerta." Minerva said, stifling a yawn as she joined her friends.

"Minerva, are you having a firewhisky…"

"Some lemon tea." The fatigued woman stated, "And if you have a bit of honey, that would be lovely."

Rosmerta didn't dally, hurrying off to procure the Headmistress' beverage. Upon returning, she handed it to her, and as she straightened up, she paused…eyes sweeping across the table. "I probably shouldn't be asking you this," She leaned in a bit closer. "But are you starting a dueling club?"

Minerva forced herself to frown, "Dueling club? Not that I'm aware of."

Rosmerta breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Thank heavens, Harry Potter and company were in here this morning and I couldn't help but overhear them."

Whether she had intended or not, Rosmerta had the entire table's rapt attention. "Truly, and what would lead you to believe that I was starting a dueling club?"

Her face lit up, "Oh, just that the group was wanting to set up a wager, older versus younger and such believing that they would be teaching your staff a thing or two."

"Well thank you, Rosmerta." Filius piped, "We will of course keep our eyes open."

She shook her strawberry blond hair, "If you do have a contest, please invite me. I would love to watch you teach them a thing or two."

Rosmerta left the area, and unlike that morning's table, Filius subtly cast a charm, blanketing their conversations from others. "A wager? Hmmm…" A smile beginning to form across his lips, lighting his eyes. "It has been some time since I have dueled professionally, but…a wager."

Pomona chuckled at her husband's merriment. She knew that no one wagered Filius in a duel, it was like wagering Minerva on a chess match. You wouldn't win…unless you were Albus or Minerva, but even they more times than naught they would end in a draw. "Up to the challenge, dear?"

He squealed in delight, "How marvelous. Simply marvelous." At once he glanced to the chuckling Headmistress. "I believe it worthwhile to accept their wager."

"Why Filius, has Hogwarts thinned down your salary?" Helena questioned, "That you're looking to enhance your income?"

"Merely all of our incomes, Helena." Mirth lining his voice, "While of course teaching a bit of humility."

Tears were dripping from Harold's eyes, "I, will, of course support you, Filius."

"Darling, do you even remember how to cast a disarming spell?" Helena questioned.

"No more than you." He retorted.

"I don't know," Molly's face was still glowing from their bout of laughter, "The kids are quite adept."

Arthur's face beginning to sober, "And they have a reason to use their skills far more often than us," He gave a nod to Minerva, "With the exception of your recent battles, Minerva. Otherwise, when was the last time any of you dueled, I know other than the occasional one against Ron, I haven't fought since the Battle of Hogwarts."

"True, Arthur." Filius stated, "However, they have not fought nor I doubt dueled since then either."

"Ron, Harry, Angelina are Aurors, and Ginny regularly duels with Harry…" Molly began.

Minerva reached across the table, "And you are forgetting one thing that they don't have, dear." Molly met Minerva's gaze. "Experience."

"So it's a go?" Filius asked, eyes alight at the concept.

"I believe we need to explain a few items about how and when to discuss Order business," A light emitting from Minerva's eyes. "Which we'll take care of that in the morning, and after…we get a bit of dueling practice in." She paused, smile curling her lips. "We are after all, getting on in our years. And we need all the practice we can get."

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_A/N: Here's snippet before a delectably wonderful and rather humorous chapter on Friday. Hope you enjoyed! _


	12. Chapter 11 August 23, 2009

**Chapter 11 ~ August 23****rd**** 2009 ~ Hope**

Minerva smiled at the gathering on the pitch, "Thank you for coming this morning. I know we had discussed starting this next week, but due to some unforeseen events, I thought it best to see everyone's capabilities." She finished, eyes momentarily scanning the group.

"Regarding that McG…" George stated, stepping around Percy. "We think it would be a right bit of fun if we divide up; perhaps have my parents and older versus us younger folk."

Minerva nodded, "I think that may be an excellent idea, George. And to liven it up, a bit, perhaps…make it tournament style."

Everyone began nodding, "Single or double elimination." George asked, quite pleased that she had so willingly accepted.

"I'd say single, George." She folded her arms in front of her, "Though, I don't know." She fought hard to keep the humor from her voice as she turned to Filius, "You've been in a few tournament duels, and if memory serves, it's single, right?"

Filius nodded, "Dueling tournaments have always been single elimination, much like live duels, Minerva. If you lose, you're done."

"Sounds realistic." Harry stated.

"If you can give me but a few moments, I shall come up with a listing."

"We do ask that you be the mediator, and not partake in the dueling today." Ginny chimed in.

"I think they are trying to stack the deck, so to speak, in their favor." Helena stated appreciatively, "Perhaps, a compromise."

"We're listening." Ron said, stepping up towards Minerva and Helena.

"Any of your undefeated persons will have to face Minerva."

"O.K. But she only has," Ron paused, as he recalled Hermione's comment from yesterday morning. "Four minutes to defeat her opponent."

Helena almost slipped, but caught herself…after she coughed. "That'll be fine." She wheezed.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright, honey?" Harold came up, hand running up her back.

Helena nodded, "Swallowed wrong." She cleared her throat, turning back to Ron and George. "Will that suffice?"

"Quite. But," George smiled, "How would you feel about a friendly wager too?"

"Wager?" Harold asked. "As in between us old folk versus you young folk?"

"Precisely." Seamus stated, "If you are feeling up to it."

Helena and Harold glanced to each other, before turning around and assessing everyone else's feeling on the topic. Everyone began nodding, "Looks like we'll be taking the wager, George. How's 100 galleons?"

George shrugged, "Was thinking 250."

Minerva cocked her eyebrow at Helena, who in turn gave a short nod as she extended her hand to George. "Done. And good luck."

"Same to you."

Minerva strode away from the two groups for several minutes, before returning with a parchment designating who would be facing who. Everyone quickly scanned the document…both sides trying to hide their delight at how the match-ups were delineated out.

"Woah," George said, noticing that Flitwick was placed in two spots. "Flitwick can't be in two places." He pointed to the duels involving Ginny and Bill.

Minerva fought off a smile, "To balance out the tournament, someone from the elder grouping had to go twice, as I was asked to sit out."

George opened his mouth to rebuke her statement, but he found he couldn't. Grumbling he consented, leaving a befuddled Ron and Seamus in his wake.

Another ten minutes passed as Minerva spoke with Rolanda Hooch about the warding on the pitch, once done, she strode to the center of the field. "The only rule is that no one can use an unforgivable curse. Otherwise, the pitch is available for any use you see fit."

"Are we granting quarter?" Filius inquired, as neared the edge of the field.

"As stated, Filius. This is a duel, as though live."

"Are their going to be protective practicing wards over the field?" Neville asked, beginning to feel an unease building in his stomach. Perhaps this was not the best idea after all, he thought as his mentor stepped up onto the pitch.

Minerva paused, debating on the pros and cons of the practice wards. It would enable a freedom to know that you would not die, but it would also not cause the person to practice control. Control which many of the younger witches and wizards did not possess. And today would not be the day to work on that particular facet, humility was.

"Yes, Neville. Today," She stressed the word, "They will be in effect."

Ginny and several others visibly relaxed at Minerva's response. "That's good to hear." Angelina quietly uttered.

"First duel, Aberforth versus Fleur." Minerva stated, both contestants walking towards the emerald clad witch. "Wands at the ready." She clearly stated, and both drew their wands out…bowing…and with flourish of light between them, they were off. Both sides shouting for their candidate, but it was moot as flashes of light sped between them, and then Aberforth's wand was sailing through the air, and he was disarmed.

Minerva shared a short smile with Aberforth as he exited the field, and he gave her a wink before being consoled by his peers.

With a wave, the glowing tournament board littering the sky to the south of the pitch was modified, showing that Fleur had advanced while Aberforth's bright colored name became black.

"Next, Tessa versus Dean." Minerva said as Ron and Dean struck each other's fists in support.

As Tessa passed her mother, she whispered. "I promise to go easy."

Minerva managed to keep a straight face as they paced apart. _Go easy, _she mused. And then George stepped up beside her, arms crossed and eye brow raised. "I was thinking, McG. How do you feel about side betting?"

Minerva paused as she turned to George, "I'll wager 10 galleons on Tessa."

George nodded, "Only if it's under three minutes."

Minerva pursed her lips in thought, gave a brief nod and at the same time a light flashed and Tessa and Dean began. Dean managed to cast a protego charm as a bolt of blue came towards him, causing him to billow backwards…and before he could scramble upwards, his entire body was bound.

At once, Minerva changed the board as Helena idly levitated Dean off the field before freeing him. "Are we to continue throughout the day?" Minerva asked, eying the mildly flamboyant man beside her.

"If you're game, McG, I am." He leaned just a bit closer, "I believe one of us will have a nice sum of money by the end of the day."

"Yes, George…" She turned to see who the third contestants were, "I believe one of us may." She raised her voice, "Next, Molly and Percy."

"Damn…" George muttered, "I don't think he'll take mom."

"Then are you conceding so soon?" Minerva quipped, "10 galleons and cold feet?"

George chuckled, "You're heartless, McG. Alright, but I'm only going 5."

"Fair enough." She replied as she pulled her wand out, and five minutes later, Helena was levitating a petrified Percy from the field, laughter ringing off the pitch at the conclusion of their duel. Molly had not cast a single offensive spell, until he had smudged her shirt and then her face darkened, and even Percy knew he was in trouble as her voice rose two octaves, but he had never anticipated his pants falling to his ankles…and being petrified as he reached for them. "For humor sake alone, will call it a draw." Minerva said between chuckling breaths to George.

"No," George took in a deep breath, "That was well worth the 5 galleons."

Absently, Minerva switched the board as Percy's suddenly shrill voice broke across the pitch, "I can't believe you would do that to me!" There was a bit of hesitation, as it continued on. "My pants, of all things!"

"Dueling is hardly ever fair." Arthur interjected, causing a host of nods to pass through the older generation.

Clearing her throat to ensure no laughter was in her voice, Minerva's distinct lilt rang out. "Next up, Pomona and Ron".

Filius looked over with a smile to his wife, his hand gently reaching out, barely brushing along her arm, "Do be careful dear. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Pomona chuckled, fingers grabbing his as they slid across her hand. "I'll be fine. Probably won't even need a charm."

A large grin broke across his face as their hands fell apart and she stepped onto the field. Ron, on the other hand, was giving Dean, Seamus, and Angelina high fives as he walked by.

George felt a smile break across his face, confidence in his brother evident in his voice. "I know you've worked with her for years McG, and she a professor and all, but I'm going with my brother for 15 galleons."

Minerva appeared to weigh the opponents strengths before replying, "Let's just make it an even 20 galleons, shall we?"

George cast her a sidelong glance, "It's your money."

Four minutes later, George was in shock at what had just transpired. His brother was still coughing up chunks of grass that had grown over ten feet tall, had spun around him and bound him to the earth. He stared, blinking after Pomona, who had not even broke a sweat in the duel as she leaned over and kissed Filius.

"Poppy and Neville." Minerva said above the murmurings on one side and congratulatory remarks on the other. Minerva could see George taking a decidedly different look at the Hogwarts Matron, as he tried to decide how astute her dueling skills were.

"10 galleons." George stated.

Minerva nodded, "Done. But you should have had more faith, George. Don't let one instance blind you regarding the truth of others."

Unlike the previous duels, this one lasted well past the ten-minute mark. Poppy and Neville both casting a flurry of hexes and jinxes at the other, cheers and jeers mixing with each move. Finally, Neville was able to land a nasty slicing charm across her wand arm, her fingers loosing their grip of the birch wood, making her instantly susceptible to a petrificus totalus charm.

Helena wasted no time marching onto the field, the bleeding was stopped with two quick flicks and another swish, and she was assisting her upright. "Nice wand work, Neville." Minerva remarked as the younger wizard strode by.

"Thank you, Minerva." He said between deep breaths.

"But remember, this isn't a parrying contest." Both George and Neville gazed at her with a curious expression as she turned around to the board, which instantly adjusted to the latest results.

Hermione frowned as she gazed up at the results, she would be up in the duel after the next one. _Audrey McDore. _She felt her nerves starting to twist in her stomach, and found herself gazing over to Minerva as she called Harold and Angelina up to the pitch. She took a handful of steps closer to the Headmistress, a smile gracing her face as she and George spoke and began brokering another bet.

"What's Harold's occupation?" George asked trying to gauge the stately wizard.

"He's the Administrator for the Department of Mysterious, has been for close to thirty years."

Hermione could see George weighing the two candidates, and she found herself wondering how good of wizard Harold was. Eyes momentarily glancing from Harold to Angelina, and then George took a deep breath rocking back on his heels. "I'll go with…15 galleons. Unless you want to offer a bit of advice?" He asked through a grin. "As to how long he's sat behind a desk."

"Just since he became the Administrator, as a matter of fact, he's put a solid thirty pounds on over the years. Helena's convinced he purposely puts on a pound a year as a status symbol."

"Then let's make it an even twenty, if you're game." He said, eyes upon the scarlet robed man.

Hermione watched Minerva give a nod, and subsequently a quick wink to Harold. _A wink…as in…_Hermione turned back in time to see the duel commence and watched as Harold moved with speed that belayed his age and stature.

His moves were fluid, graceful, and only Tessa's were close to par with his form. Angelina had cast a quick series of hexes that he easily defended against, and as she cast another two, he seemed to be in two places at once. Both figures raising their arms, one obviously defending himself against Angelina's offensive spells, the other…moving his wand, a spell eschewing forth on his lips…and then only one Harold was standing on the pitch. The one who had cast a spell at Angelina, her body frozen in place…as droplets of water dripped onto the ground from the ice hanging from her fingers.

Harold, met Helena as she stepped onto the pitch, a quiet interchange between them before he strode off, but not before giving Minerva a brief nod. Hermione, along with every other member of the team was speechless.

Minerva waved her wand, the board changed, and Hermione cast one last look at it before stepping forward. She couldn't help notice that they were losing, with apparent ease. "Careful, Hermione." Harry said, his eyes and voice matching her concern.

Hermione nodded, "I will be."

Ginny gave her a resolute nod. "You'll win."

"That's what we thought of Angelina too." She retorted before marching forwards.

"Audrey and Hermione." Minerva said, noting that Hermione was already striding onto the field. This was one of two duels where she wasn't sure of the outcome. She had seen Audrey duel a handful of times, and even dueled her once or twice herself, but it had been quite a few years. She hoped to see Hermione advance, for no other reason than it would enable her greater opportunity to discreetly observe and assess the woman's skill.

"No bets, George?" Minerva inquired as the two witches pulled their wands out.

He bit on his lower lip in thought. "If anyone here advances, it'll be her." He muttered more to himself than to Minerva, "15 galleons."

Minerva nodded, "Very well." She turned her gaze back to the two witches, and with a breath, began it.

The flurry of spells flying between them caused Minerva to smile, Hermione's skill had improved noticeably since last week. _It would be only a matter of minutes before Audrey fell_, Minerva thought, watching as Hermione conjured a shield charm and as Audrey's spell struck it, the sound waves echoing back to Audrey, knocked her off her feet.

She tried to defend, but at once the ground beneath her gave way and before she could stand the ground immediately closed in around her, solidifying, and encompassing her in a wall of petrified dirt as waves of laughter enveloped her.

Minerva smiled at Hermione's ingenuity and her parting gift to Audrey, rictusempra, a tickling charm. "Well done, Hermione."

"Thank you, Minerva."

George beamed at his friend, "Good one, mate."

"I expect lunch from your winnings on my duel." She said, drawing up next to the Headmistress and George.

George nodded, "Next time you're in Diagon Alley, it's on me."

"Awesome!" Ginny said, grinning ear to ear as she wrapped Hermione in a hug. "We'll be ahead by the end of the first round. Way to go."

Minerva turned to George, deliberately ignoring Ginny's commentary. "You're up."

"Not for nothing, McG. But I'm going with thirty on myself. That should tie it out."

Minerva cocked her brow, "That little doubt in yourself?"

George chuckled, "No, but I have no rightly idea what he does for a living."

Ginny had slipped away and Hermione answered him before Minerva could, drawing a curious look from Minerva as she wondered how much she had been able to ascertain about Percival. "He's a potion master, George. I believe you know the shop, Simmered Stews."

Realization flashed across the wizard's eyes, "Truly?" He turned to gaze at Percival, "Wicked. He's got a steady hand then…" He shook his head, "No, McG. I believe thirty is plenty."

"Good luck George." Hermione said.

"I am looking forward to my winnings." Minerva said as she called George and Percival to the field. George frowned at her for a moment, and then shook his head, walking to the center.

"Who do you think will win?" Hermione asked, as Minerva raised her wand to commence their duel.

"George." Minerva said without preamble, dropping her wand.

"And you bet on Percival?" Hermione questioned, as the two opponents began sending curses at the other.

"I did." She replied, watching as her son barely avoided a well-timed jinx by George.

"I don't understand." Hermione stated, eyes following the duel. "Why take it if you know he is going to lose?"

"Perception, dear." She replied, a look of disapproval shadowing her eyes as Percival sent a hex. "Foolish." She muttered, causing Hermione to frown at her, but before she asked how so, Percival was lying on the ground, bound.

George jumped up into the air, "Yes!"

Hermione turned to Minerva, "Somehow you knew that would cost him the match."

Minerva barely acknowledged Hermione, "Perhaps." She stated, altering the names again, eyes trained on the board. "Filius and Bill." Her voice rang out across the chattering group of congratulations to George.

"How? What did you see?" Hermione questioned as George continued sauntering their way.

Minerva tilted her head away from the pitch, brow arched as she debated on whether or not to give Hermione the information. It's not that it wouldn't improve her skills, and Minerva was over 95 percent certain that Hermione was the best candidate to have accompany her on her missions. She would be telling Hermione these type of insights soon, unless another person at the tournament showed more aptitude and natural ability. Which, was highly improbable, as she had already crossed everyone, save George from the list. And she couldn't imagine working beside him for countless hours… With a quiet voice, she said. "I'll explain as Filius duels." Then she was lifting her arms, but before commencing she caught George's hand motions as he mouthed. "20."

Minerva gave him a curt nod, and at once, began their duel and with the next flick of her wand, she muted her conversation.

"Each of you are treating this as a parry thrust duel. Give take back, give. There is so much you are missing." She pointed her hand to Filius. "Watch how he barely uses his arms to maneuver his wand, and how each motion is quick…"

At that point he had conjured a protego charm, and Hermione was impressed as his wand had barely moved.

Minerva lowered her arm, as she continued on. "And also watch his torso, it moves before his arms enabling you to determine his aim…"

Hermione was trying to watch his wand movements…torso…and the duel. "And you watch all of that?"

"Yes." Minerva said, eyes remaining riveted to the duel. "It has long since become second nature."

"Anything else?" Hermione asked rhetorically, and was surprised when Minerva responded.

"His stance and footwork." She replied casually.

At this Hermione all but turned away from the duel, "You have got to be kidding."

"Watch." Minerva said quietly, leaning just a hairs breath closer. Eyes darting to and fro, catching the beat…the flow of magic…their stances…and then she began. "Protego, expellimarus." And as if on cue, Filius cast the two spells not even a second after she had uttered them.

Hermione felt her jaw slacken as she turned her head, disbelieving brown eyes staring at the elder witch. "I…."

Minerva could feel and sense Hermione's gaze, and she tilted her head in enough to take in the pure astonished look upon her face. "Lesson's over, Hermione." She quietly stated, returning her full attention back to the duel while discreetly canceling the muting spell.

Slowly, Hermione followed suite…still utterly dumbfounded by their brief conversation…she felt like a dullard for not seeing what Minerva had stated. How could she have not seen those items, they were starring at her plain as day…she was unable to process anything other than her words as she watched Filius and Bill continue on, spells interchanging between them. It was as if she watching them through someone else's eyes, and she blinked trying to bring herself back to reality as her brain continued to process Minerva's startling words. Seconds, minutes…later, Hermione couldn't be sure, Bill was flying backwards through the air, wand tumbling to the ground as his body suddenly jerked upwards and then he was gone.

"Hey, I'm going to need a broom or something." Bill yelled, body dangling from a quidditch hoop.

Hermione felt a smile bubble up, and caught the faint chuckle slip from Minerva's lips.

"Well done, Filius." Minerva stated as her Deputy began to amble off the field. "If you would be so kind as to remain, you are up against Ginny next."

Filius gave Minerva a deep bow and turned back around as Minerva called Ginny to the pitch.

"Hello?!" Bill yelled again, "It isn't _that_ comfortable up here."

"Just fall bro, we'll catch you!" George yelled back.

"We'll, as in you? Ron? Percy? Harry? Who?"

Minerva shook her head at the boys' antics, and with a solitary wave, Bill's feet were earthbound. Immediately he spun around, eyes searching for the Headmistress. "Thank you." He said as George stopped beside Hermione.

"What do you think?" He said, eyes following his sister's gait.

"Huh?" Hermione said, "Ohh, right. Uh…" Her mind still elsewhere, "She's going to lose." Hermione absently stated, "You're right, he used to duel professionally." She blinked again, trying to pull her scattered thoughts together…and she found herself turning to Minerva, eyes narrowing as she finally began piecing the oddities of the day together. "But I believe it's been some time."

George glanced from Hermione to the pitch, and then to Minerva. "I'll go 5 on Ginny."

"I'll be back, I'm going to grab some water, would either of you like something?" Hermione asked turning away, Minerva absently nodding to George as she agreed to his low wager, her eyes however turned to Hermione.

"Some water would be lovely." Minerva responded, wondering what caused the sudden shift in Hermione's demeanor.

George shook his head, "I've had a nip of firewhisky already, but thanks."

Hermione barely acknowledged George's response, as she was already heading toward the table on the far side of the pitch laden with food and drinks. Her mind not at all on the walk as her mind traced back through Minerva's words, and as she neared the table, her body drew to a stop. She remained unmoving as a startling notion passed through her mind. _If Minerva could see all that as Filius dueled, anticipating his next actions based upon his movements…_ She turned back to the pitch, Filius and Ginny bowing to each other. _How many of the wizards or witches here had that skill? _Her eyes traced the sidelines as she began trying to determine who did and who didn't…

_Filius, probably; Sprout, good question; Rory, no clue; Tessa, probably; Percival, doubtful; Malcolm, probably…_

"Don't tell me, we've crushed your spirit already?" Helena asked, drawing up beside her.

Hermione pulled her gaze from Audrey to the blond haired witch, blinking once before meeting blue, twinkling eyes. "Hardly, though, I have a feeling that we are being played."

Helena reached out, grabbing a glass of pumpkin juice, mirth lining her eyes. "Dear Heavens, played? What are you talking about?"

"Today, this tournament, the whole thing." Hermione said, disbelieving Helena's half-hearted denial.

"I have no idea what you are referring to, but if you have any concerns, perhaps you should ask Minerva."

Brown eyes narrowed, measuring the witch before her. _If she was to garner information, it wouldn't be from Minerva, not unless the Headmistress sought to give it to you. Her chances of learning the truth were far better from Helena. _"No, she's far better at hiding her emotions than you."

Helena stepped fully into her view, bringing their faces to within inches, her face instantly devoid of emotion. "Are you sure?"

Hermione's eyes swept over the elder witch's face, there was no spark…no twinkle in her eye, nothing. "Apparently, I'll have to ask her."

"Please do, but she'll only confirm this." Helena's voice dropped to a whisper, "The Three Broomsticks is not always the best place to discuss, business."

Hermione stammered in response, "When…yesterday," Shock lining her features, "The duel, wager…" She brought her hand to her mouth, "This," At Helena's quirked brow, she lowered her voice. "Is all a ruse?"

"Think of it…as a learning experience." Helena began stepping back.

"Then, all this, is rigged?"

"No." Helena replied, "Defiantly not."

"Then why…"

"I believe your friends are quickly learning a valuable lesson in humility." Helena's robes were billowing behind her as she began walking back to the pitch, leaving Hermione alone. At once, she reached over, grabbed two waters and glanced to the board, noticing that Ginny's name had turned black as had Luna's.

_Humility…_the word ringing in her ears as she returned to the pitch, Harry and Arthur were already stepping onto the field. Ginny must not have lasted long against Filius, nor Luna against Malcolm.

"40, McG." George said as Hermione returned, handing Minerva the glass.

Minerva stretched out her hand, and felt a tremor in her fingers. _Damn_, she thought, willing them to still as her fingers curled around the glass. "Thank you." She stated, "Very well, George."

"Who's ahead?" Hermione asked, already knowing that Minerva would have collected for both Ginny and Luna's defeat.

George grumbled, "McG, by 40."

"So you could be tied after Harry?" She said as Minerva signaled for their duel to begin.

George gave a brief nod, eyes not breaking from the fluid stream of spells flowing between casters. Hermione, on the other hand, found herself peripherally watching the woman on the other side of George. Her countenance remained reserved as her gaze remained fixed on the duel, as if watching the strategy of the two wizards. Several minutes passed, the intensity increasing, but she remained steadfast. Harry deflected a string of hexes, and then she saw a shift…dare she believe, a smile crinkling the corner of her mouth, and Hermione completely refocused on the duel as Arthur's wand sailed through the air into Harry's hand.

"Good move, Harry." Arthur stated walking towards the younger man hand outstretched.

George was jumping up and down, running onto the pitch. "Awesome, mate!" Ginny, and Ron quickly joining in as the rest of the group began giving each other high fives, Hermione clapping at Harry's success.

With practiced ease, the board shifted. Minerva's offering a congratulations to Harry before calling forth the next contestants, Rory and Charlie.

"Hey, McG!" George yelling from beside Harry as they walked back to the sidelines, merriment in both his voice and face. "Charlie for 40."

Hermione turned to Minerva, her voice barely reaching Minerva's ears, "You are going to win, aren't you?"

"Perhaps." Minerva shrugged her shoulders, "Perhaps not."

"How good is Rory?" Hermione asked immediately noticing the tall-kilted wizard, his lean body and powerful calves as he strode onto the pitch. It was evident in how his long stride quickly brought him to the center of the field, how much walking he did.

"Fair." Minerva replied but gave a sidelong glance to Hermione, "But, he will defiantly beat Charlie."

"Charlie? Really?" Disbelief lacing her voice, her eyes scanning over to the field. "I don't know." Her voice waning, "He's dangerously quick."

"Aye," Minerva's Scottish ancestry seeping in, "He is, but I've known Rory since our youth." Her rose lips split into a smile, "And he is just a wee bit faster."

"I suppose we shall see." Hermione stated, as Minerva raised her wand. "Is he related to you?"

The Headmistress paused, "No, he is merely a _very_ good family friend who will not leave us waiting for long."

Hermione frowned at Minerva, not understanding her words but with a flip of her wrist, it mattered not. The duel sprang to life at once. Rory immediately deflected three spells as Charlie repelled two. All of the younger generation shouting words of encouragement as Rory dove to the side. A well-timed hex barely missing the Highlander's side and then Hermione noticed Minerva's face break into a genuine grin. Brown eyes immediately jerked to Rory as a flash of blue, two bolts of green, and a stream of purple sprung towards Charlie as Rory flicked his wrist and then flourished his wand, before he lazily cast a protego charm to block the hex flying at him.

Charlie cast a series of protego charms at the spells, which the bolts sped through as though encountering paper…the cheers turned to yelling, and in a blink Charlie was spiraling backwards. Hermione stared wide-eyed as Charlie's body collapsed into the size of a box, obvious his joints had been charmed to bend in whichever way caused the body to be no larger than the size of his thigh.

Helena was immediately sprinting onto the field, "Damn fine magic." She muttered as she strode by Minerva.

Rory gave Helena a curt nod, pausing by both Hermione and Minerva. "He's a right wizard, bit brash, but good stock." Smoky grey eyes turned to Hermione, "And you are exceptionally talented."

Hermione stammered a, "Thank you." Shocked at his compliment.

"Nice combination, where did you learn that bit of magic?" Minerva asked, drawing his attention back to her.

"In the high country, was drinking a nip of Malt with McEvans. And we got to talkin'." He shrugged, "To business, I need to speak with you for a wee bit of minute before I head back up this afternoon."

"Very well." Minerva stated as Rory walked away and she quickly changed the board.

Hermione glanced at the names, those that remained bright with life, and those that didn't. There was one fight remaining in the first stage, so far the results were unfavorable for their team. They had five persons advancing with the potential of merely one more; while the older generation had won eight duels, Flitwick twice, so at least seven made it to the second round.

"Helena and Seamus." Minerva's crisp voice rang into the air.

Hermione returned her attention to the pitch, Helena just finished assisting Charlie to the sidelines and she was striding back onto the pitch, veering slightly to walk by Minerva. Hermione's eyes darted to Seamus, noticing that his bold stance had diminished yet again. First immediately following Harold's exposition and then Rory's. _Definitely not the run of the mill wizard_, Hermione thought, echoing Seamus' words from yesterday morning.

"Do remember, Helena, the first 'o' in protego is elongated." Minerva quipped to her friend as she neared.

"Yes, I do often forget _that_ small tidbit." Helena winked to Hermione, "But I believe I'll manage."

"Be careful." Minerva said, Harold's words mirroring hers.

Helena smiled at both her husband and then her best friend, "Of course." She leaned forward, gently kissing Harold. "And Minerva," She began to turn, "I believe Hermione wanted to ask you about the Three Broomsticks." And with that, she walked out onto the pitch, a smirk lacing her face.

Harold's blue eyes turned to Minerva and the younger woman, "Is this regarding yesterday?" He asked, somewhat amused at Hermione's expression.

"Harold," Minerva didn't move, eyes remaining fixed upon the new Hogwarts professor. "If you could excuse us?"

Harold nodded and was four steps away, his ears barely picking up on the beginnings of their conversation.

"Yes?" Minerva questioned her eyes boring into the younger witch's.

"You knew of our conversation yesterday morning." She stated, seeking only an affirmation, which Minerva gave with a solitary nod. "And today, was…what?"

Minerva tipped her head, gold frames and lenses glinting against the light. "You sought practice. We have provided it."

"McG." George came up, drawing to a halt as he noticed the Headmistress and Hermione had obviously been involved in conversation. "I…" He cleared his throat, neither witch breaking their gaze. "Hermione, what do you think about Helena?"

"She's been a healer for the bulk of her life." She responded, "I don't know."

Both witches could see him nod, "That's my thought too, I'll go 40 on Seamus."

"Very well, George." She stated, finally turning to the young wizard. "But, as with Rory, you need to look beyond the surface." She raised her wand as George sputtered, Hermione's gaze still locked upon her. She turned to Hermione, voice dropping. "You may wish to watch, it isn't everyday Helena duels." Green and brown measured the other, and at once emerald eyes snapped back to the pitch and with a quick flourish, the duel between Seamus and Helena began.

For the first thirty seconds, it appeared that Seamus easily outclassed the St. Mungos' Administrator. Each spell the younger wizard cast was barely deflected or just missed her robes…and then Hermione realized that she had yet to cast an offensive one. _We have provided…practice,_ Minerva's words resonating in her ears.

As Helena stood upright, hand brushing through her blond hair. "That was quite inventive, Mr. Finnigan. Alas, not enough." And unlike the previous minute, her wand moved as lightening. Seamus was flinging every shield and defensive spell he knew, and it wasn't close to enough. Streams of white bandages were crawling and subsequently binding up his legs…his wand clattering to the grass as the numbness spread from his fingers into his hand, up his body…he couldn't feel anything, and then he felt his body fall backwards, the air rushing from his lungs as his eyes stared up into the blue, cloudless sky.

"What spell did she cast?" Hermione asked, impressed at the how Helena had dueled against Seamus.

"The last series caused his body to become numb, paralyzed, and a bit of wind to knock him over." Minerva stated, "She used her skills as a healer and effectively applied them to the duel."

George shook his head, "I'm sure she sees several types of injuries as the Administrator."

"Not nearly as many as she did when she was the head of Magical Accidents Ward." Minerva absently flicked her wrist, the names instantly moved, the second tier of the tournament now mapped out. "We will reconvene in half an hour." George was already jogging towards Charlie and Seamus as Minerva reached out, fingers wrapping around Hermione's shoulder stilling her. "One moment."

Hermione paused, waiting for barely two seconds to pass before the harsh words spilled from her lips. "Providing practice? Or perhaps a bit of humility? Was I even supposed to win? Or Harry? Was anyone? This isn't practice, its humiliation wrapped in a game. And just for the record, when is humiliation the most effective as a teaching tool? I may want to incorporate it in my lesson plans."

Minerva felt her own jaw tighten at Hermione's words. "You are a phenomenally bright witch, who has not only seen Johannes fight but me as well. In addition, you have seen how your friends duel, and they believe that they are rather adept. This is not a game Hermione, and I am truly sorry that you believe it is. I do not seek to humiliate anyone, but I do need everyone to realize that practice is needed and in this instance, it comes in the form of humility." Her voice becoming low, emotion brimming in her eyes. "I have seen more death than any person has right to, and I refuse to have anyone believe that they are ready to face what lay ahead. No one is ready, Hermione."

She scoffed, "Even you?"

A tear slipped from her emerald eyes, "Especially me. So, believe what you will, Hermione." She cleared her throat, "And good luck."

Hermione barely registered Minerva's pending departure, she in turn reached out. "What do you mean, especially you?" Hermione tried to turn her around, but found that Minerva was unmoving. "You are by far the best duelist, and if you cannot defeat Johannes…"

Minerva stilled her heart, meeting Hermione's gaze. "I didn't say I wasn't able to defeat him, Hermione." She willed her eyes to remain faceted to the brown ones, "I said I wasn't ready."

Hermione searched the Headmistresses face seeking an explanation, "Do you merely need practice?"

"I'm afraid at my considerable age, Hermione, practice is merely a component."

Hermione shook her head, "You aren't old, in muggle terms perhaps early to mid forties. Besides, you've barely aged a day over the past thirteen years. So, it's something else…" She muttered more to herself than to Minerva, her brain sifting through every scrap ounce of information about the woman before her. "The curse you were struck with." She gasped in realization, "It still affects you…"

"As does my arthritis," Minerva acknowledged, "Get some food, you'll need your strength against Malcolm." In a flurry of emerald robes, she had already covered half the distance to where Percival, Tessa, Helena and several others were standing.

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"I'll be back." Helena murmured, eyes momentarily darting from Minerva to Harold, her lips softly grazing his skin.

His gruff voice raising the hairs on hers, "Her color is off today."

"She should have spent the day in bed." Helena quietly replied.

"I'll remember that saying when you are unwell." He quipped, his love for her evident in his eyes.

"It's different." She replied, despair lacing her words.

"She'll be alright." He said, pulling her into a hug.

"For now." Her words muffled in his robes as she drew upon his strength, knowing that for only the third time in her lengthy friendship with Minerva McGonagall, she would have to be there for her in the coming months. Harold brushed a light kiss across her cheek as she pulled away, squeezing his hand before gliding towards her friend.

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Hermione took a deep breath, settling her nerves as Tessa stepped onto the pitch. She had been the only one to advance to the third round through a long, grueling duel with Malcolm. Harry had resoundingly lost to Rory; Neville to Tessa; George to Pomona; and Fluer had lost spectacularly to Harold.

Before she had stepped onto the pitch, George owed Minerva 290 galleons. And she had heard him leveling the bet with her…for 290 galleons…

_"I think she can take Tessa…" George stated. "And if you're game, then I'll even the wager for 290."_

_There was a long pause as Hermione continued her walk, and she had believed she had missed Minerva's response, when her Scottish lilt graced her ears. "I shall accept, but I must ask if you are certain – for that is a steep wager."_

_"She'll…" His words were lost as Hermione took the final steps._

Tessa pulled her wand from her robes as did Hermione…both witches preparing for the inevitable.

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George excused himself as soon as the bet had been finalized. He was going to stand with Ron, Harry, Ginny and company. And Minerva found her gaze narrowing at the two witches on the field.

She had been pleasantly surprised when Hermione had defeated Malcolm enabling her to advance to the next round. Their duel had been intense, lasting far longer than any other duels to this point; bordering on fifteen minutes. Filius, Helena, Harold, even Rory could be heard cheering for the newest professor at Hogwarts as the minutes had worn on.

Now, though, Hermione faced Tessa – her daughter, who had learned to duel at age 10. Like most things, Tessa had excelled in dueling. She had shown tremendous promise, but she did not inherit the natural inclination and creative aptitude as either of her parents; only Callum had. However, if Tessa had read about a spell or had witnessed someone else duel, then she could imitate the series of spells with remarkable adeptness.

Hermione, on the other hand, did not have the same training as Tessa…and it showed in the overall fatigue from casting, but her resourcefulness, creativity and patience had won the duel against Malcolm.

And Minerva found herself almost anxious to witness this duel.

For within the next several minutes, all the guesswork would be gone regarding how good Hermione was at dueling.

And how good she could become.

"How much is your current bet?" Helena asked as both witches bowed to the other.

"290." Was the succinct response, Minerva raising her wand.

Helena's brow rose up at Minerva, "That's no small amount."

"Quite." She replied as both women reached for their wands.

Helena followed Minerva's gaze, "Do you think Hermione has a chance?"

Minerva was about to initiate the duel, but paused, briefly turning her head to the side. Her voice rumbling deep from within her chest. "I know not."

"But you hope so." Helena said, trying to garner as much information from Minerva's face before she turned away…which she did at once, and the duel had begun.

"Yes." Minerva quietly replied to Helena's statement as Tessa and Hermione's spells collided mid-air, sparks flying in fifteen directions. Minerva could feel Helena's gaze, but ignored the urge to meet it, instead _wanting_ to focus on the duel. She did however, answer the question being burnt into the side of her skull. "I have decided to heed your advice regarding taking someone with me on my, escapades."

"Hermione?" Helena asked as the witch in question cast three successive shield charms to block Tessa's onslaught.

"95 percent certain." Minerva replied, inwardly wincing as the leaves whipped by Tessa's body, the robe along her left arm shredded, blood dripping onto the ground from one of the hundred paper-thin cuts on her forearm.

Helena almost asked if Minerva was certain, but by the tension in her jaw, she already knew the answer. _Yes. _Helena refrained from any further commentary, eyes drawn to the whirlwind duel, her mind on Minerva and the choice she had apparently made. When Helena had suggested Hermione a week ago, it was not so much because that was the _best_ candidate. Truth be told, Rory or even Harold would probably be the best person to assist Minerva. Though, Harold would never be considered as a candidate, because God forbid something happen to him and he died, so would she and Minerva would never allow that to happen. So, that left Rory. A wonderful option, just…he was the devil to spontaneously get a hold of. Helena was sure that he would make himself available, but his very nature made it difficult for him to remain in one place, and to do so for a year…the words exceptionally difficult came to mind.

Helena was positive Minerva would have her reasons why she was leaning heavily towards Hermione as the person. She knew for certain, after Minerva's reaction to Hermione a week ago, there had to be a _damn_ good reason. Otherwise, the younger witch never would have been chosen.

Helena watched Hermione transfigure the blades of grass into bludgers. She was intelligent and able to carry on a conversation about a variety of topics, including transfiguration. There was the convenience factor, since she would be working out of Hogwarts alongside Minerva. She seemed quite adept at dueling, and with a bit of practice...Tessa's spell raked across Hermione's shoulder, the spells coming much faster whereas both their shields were coming much slower…she would be able to beat most of the wizards and witches here today. She also knew of Minerva's need to return to Hogwarts…

That single handedly eliminated all but Filius, Pomona, Poppy, the children along with she and Harold.

Not that she wouldn't tell someone else, but she had been_ reluctant_ at the notion.

A red bolt blew apart in the air, and Helena was drawn back to the duel by a loud raucous cheer. The intensity of the duel had shifted as the concept that Hermione may actually be good enough to win against Tessa settled into both witches' minds.

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Hermione felt as though her world was spinning, Tessa had missed…and she was still alive and fighting the elder witch. Granted, she was tired…all the way to the bone. She felt as though each flick of her wand had her arm passing through molasses, and yet, the spells were springing forth faster than she had ever cast them before.

She could feel herself trying to absorb Tessa's every movement; from her posture, torso, stance, even how she moved her wand. It was too much, information overload. She couldn't process it fast enough, couldn't balance the information gathering versus the dueling, but she wanted to. Watching Tessa's movements, trying to ascertain what spell she was going to cast, where she was going to cast it, when…it was like an addiction.

Hermione felt her shield charm buckle and leaned backward just as she felt a burst of heat on her right shoulder and the smell of scorched robes permeated the air. _That was close_, she thought.

With a flourish and wave of her wand, she shattered the quidditch post and transfigured a thousand pieces into birds that flew as one towards Tessa. And as the last of the spell left her lips, the adrenaline mixing with her magic as they both coursed through her body, and for the first time in close to ten years she felt truly exhilarated.

Even if George stood to lose a sum total of 580 pounds based solely on her outcome…

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It had been far too long since Tessa had been in a duel with an engaging opponent. Yes, she and Malcolm dueled, but he was no match for her. It was more of a way to keep some of her basic wand movements and both, offensive and defensive, spells mildly in form.

Since her father's death, mother's brush with death and subsequent illness, and Esmerele's death…she had been lucky to duel anyone _other_ than Malcolm, and that had been three years prior. Uncle Rory had been visiting mother, and they had both stretched their magic so to speak.

Granted, Aunt Helena had to visit immediately afterwards, and after she had woken up…she had joined her Uncle and both had ended up consuming quite a bit of whisky, but it had been fun. Now, it seemed, she should have pushed harder, because she couldn't remember someone not trained in dueling ever giving her this much grief.

She watched in dismay as the younger witch blocked her duel hex with a fire swirl interspersed, and felt her opinion of Hermione's skill increase as one of the hoops from the field blew apart into a swarm of birds diving directly towards her. As she began to cast a disappearing spell on several droves, she felt her frustration mount…Hermione had added a duplicating spell. For every bird vanished, two replaced it.

Tessa cast a momentary glance towards the deep teal robed witch, her respect for the woman increasing a hundred fold.

She was going to have to _really_ work at defeating this witch, she thought as the birds enveloped her.

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George's hoots and hollers could be heard over the cries of the birds, Rory's steely grip grabbing onto his arm to halt him from running onto the pitch.

"Whoa, there lad." Rory stated, "She hasn't won, yet."

George shook his head, "There is no way Tessa's going to stop…"

A deep vibration swept through the ground, instantly followed by a loud percussion that forced everyone to clasp their hands to their ears, even Hermione.

And there stood Tessa. Floating feathers bristled and popped across a small opalescent bubble pulsing around her magenta robes as the post of the quidditch goal reformed…

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As Tessa became engulfed, Minerva squelched her natural desire to panic for her daughter. She knew that nothing they were doing here today would permanently harm Tessa…but that didn't stop her heart from plummeting to her stomach, while at the same time, feel an immeasurable sense of pride at Hermione's series of spells she had just cast.

She knew there was a counter, a fairly easy one. One that involved transfiguration, which was Tessa's least favorite area of expertise, which would force her to do something more flamboyant, and far more draining. And in that area, she truly did take after her father…

Minerva felt the ground tremble, and surmised what course of defense her daughter was planning…but for Tessa to win; it would take a wee bit more ingenuity, magic and loads of patience. Hermione was unknowingly striking against Tessa's weakness…transfiguration. Unfortunately for Tessa, she was not playing into Hermione's weakness with the hexes, curses, jinxes, and charms she was using. Tessa needed to alter her tactics, and she needed to do it quickly.

"I do believe Tessa has met her match." Helena stated, mirth lining her voice. "I haven't seen her work this hard in a match since before Albus passed."

One solitary piece of metal remained at Tessa's feet from the quidditch post, and before Hermione could cast another spell…the piece of metal morphed and grew, blotting out the sun as it arced in the air towards her.

"She and Rory had a good workout a few years back, but it's been a while." Minerva replied as Hermione began waving her wand to transfigure the metal…

"You should have had her go against Harold or Filius, Rory's whereabouts are as erratic as your weather." Helena stated,

"Like all things, change has been difficult." Minerva stated, thinking of those persons her daughter used to duel against and were no longer able or alive to do so; William, Agatha, Nicholas, Pernelle, Callum, Esmerele, Albus, and her. The unaltered metal now hovering to the side of Hermione, as she tried to break the charm Tessa was using between the streams of magic flowing towards her.

"She hasn't moved on." Helena's voice quiet as her eyes fell from Hermione's breathtaking maneuver of flipping the metal around to block the spells and then curl the tips…making it look like a solid metal net sweeping towards Tessa.

"She still harbors the hope that I will once again be, well." Minerva replied.

"So do I." The magnitude of Helena's soft words finally pulling Minerva's gaze from the duel as their eyes met for one brief moment. Heartache, anguish, and just a ray of hope emitting from her blue depths before Minerva snapped her piercing, almost hawk like eyes back to the duel as Tessa stepped through the metal…

"The past thirteen years has been a blessing, Helena. Though, you know as well as I that my death is inevitable…and will come," Her brogue dancing upon her words, "It is simply a matter of…time." She smiled, chuckling at what was about to occur, as the large chunk of metal plunged deep into the ground and both witches' protego charms rippling from the spells impact. "However, until then," Minerva nodded towards Hermione, "Watch…and let us focus more on, life." She finished as the ground beneath Hermione quivered and then her entire body was swallowed up as the metal burst through the earth.

Helena laughed, knowing that she would indeed need to assist Hermione, as she had witnessed that maneuver before…decades before; Albus had done that to Tessa. The metal had become phasic, and could pass through objects, thereby enabling it to go through dirt. However, upon surrounding or in this instance about to surround the person, the castor would return the metal to its primary, solid state…and scoop up the unawares person.

The top of metal had closed, as if by drawstring…sealing her in…

"You're buying at the Broomsticks tonight," Helena stated as she began to walk forward.

"Then I shall give you the money, as I will be retiring shortly." Minerva replied.

Helena turned back around, worry lacing her eyes, but she nodded understandingly. "Then I shall drink one for you."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

"I hope you have all enjoyed this afternoon's events," Minerva's voice carrying across the members of the Order. "However, I would like to remind _each_ of you that the Three Broomsticks, and any other location that is open to the public is not an area where you will be discussing Order business." She continued on, voice becoming almost caustically strict. "And for those that have forgotten how to mute out conversations in public, then I'd suggest spending an afternoon with Filius for if I hear of another foolish escapade, that person will be dismissed from the Order meetings and only be told information after it happens or as needed for missions."

"It was all in good fun." Ron quipped, his words slurring as he continued on, "And who would overhear us at 9:30 in the morning, anyway."

"Yeah, lighten up." Seamus muttered.

Two dozen pairs of eyes landed upon the wizards, and it was Hermione's voice that broke the stillness. "You dim-witted gits. Haven't you realized that _they_," She pointed to Minerva and several other older members of the Order, "Heard about what was said yesterday morning. And our practice, was a farce to show all of us that we are not nearly as good as we think we are. Who here thought that Pomona would beat any one of us, and Rory was just a lack of a wizard…and half of you thought I could take Minerva. Sober up, Ron…Seamus and think before you say any other half brained comments."

Only five decades of teaching had stopped the smile from forming across Minerva's lips at Hermione's tirade. "We will begin working on dueling at the Order meeting, not next week, but the one after. Each of you did very well today, but remember to use your area of expertise. That is how many of you were defeated today, not because one person was better or worse, but you were facing a person who has decades of experience in an area that you did not." Minerva paused for one moment, "And as we seem to have received the winnings from a sizeable wager, it will be our treat at the Three Broomsticks."

Xoxooxxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxxoxoxoxo

The large oak front entry doors closed, and Minerva sighed…finally able to drop the pretense and she leaned heavily upon her walking stick shoulders sagging. Since her return last week, she had been going non-stop…at a pace reminiscent of her times as a Deputy. A pace she could no longer do…she _had _to slow down, somehow.

She absently heard the Gargoyle bid her good afternoon as the winding staircase drew her up to her private chambers, past her office.

Minerva entered the room, immediately noticing a large bag resting against one of the overstuffed plum chairs, a note attached.

_McG,  
Enclosed are your winnings. Enjoy, and if you so chose, perhaps a galleon or two may find its way back to the Weasley's Wheezies…_

_George_

"Elgin."

The house elf popped into the room, "You'se called Mistress."

"Please take that," She pointed to the large satchel, "To Gringotts. And ask Griphook to return it to Mr. George Weasley's vault."

Elgin furloughed his brow, not understanding his Mistress at times. "Yes, Mistress." His silver head bobbing, "You'se needing anything else."

"Yes." She took a moment, pulling out a piece of parchment, her quill scratching a note upon it. "Please place this," She folded the paper, magically sealing it as she handed it to Elgin, "On his pillow at his flat in London and that will be all."

"Is you'se eating up here this evening?" He asked, hand dropping to his side.

"I believe I will be fast asleep shortly, I'll call for something when I wake." A tired smile graced her face, "Thank you Elgin."

"You'se most welcome, Mistress…" And with a pop he was gone.

Xoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione drew up a chair next to Ginny, eyes sweeping over the large crowd…and noticed that one person had yet to show herself.

"How much did you end up loosing today?" Percy asked, dreading the answer.

"580 in side bets plus the main pot." George replied as he set a large tray of firewhiskeys down upon the table. "Grab a drink and we'll toast…" He shouted, eyes scanning the room.

A flurry of hands reached in as witches and wizards grabbed their drink, George standing atop the seat, arm raised…his face still searching for someone as the other Order members began raising their hand in toast, but then his eyes landed upon Helena…who was laughing heartily with her husband. However, McG had not joined them…and he couldn't help wonder why. Had she been _that _disappointed in them?

"To friends, to family," A genuine smile broke across his face, "To Pomona's devil snare's tenacity…" A round of laughs echoed from the wooden rafters, as everyone recalled the sprout of Devil's Snare had engulfed George despite the sun being out in full. "Which…" He motioned for the group to calm down, "I am most anxious to learn how you did." Another bout of laughter swept through the group, "And to McG…" At this every person became somber, "For always believing in us to be a better person than even we believe we are."

There was a loud 'Here here'…and everyone turned to Minerva, who was suspiciously absent.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

It was close to one in the morning when George stumbled out of the floo and into his flat. The room was spinning, and with little finesse he managed to enter his bed chambers, leaving a wake of broken dishes and upturned furniture.

The candles in his room instantly sprung to life as he unclasped his outer robe, which fell to the floor with a soft thud…and that's when he blinked, twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things and there was a piece of parchment resting on his pillow. Frowning, he stepped over, almost falling and having to brace himself before picking up the parchment.

As soon as his eyes rested upon the wax seal, he knew who had sent it, McG. Chuckling, he flopped onto the bed. There were not that many people who would have the ability to get past the wards of his small flat…and as he slit the seal, he recalled that her resources far surpassed most others.

Emerald ink in precise, flowing handwriting greeted his blurry vision.

_George,_

_While I thank you for your prompt and immediate payment from our wager, I have returned my winnings to your vault – where they belong. In the future when placing wagers, it is alright to bet against both your family and friends…and bet more on those who you are assured will win versus those whom you are not._

_The only payment I require is a copy of your latest goods so that I may know what 'ailments' I shall be seeing this year._

_Minerva,_

_p.s. No I will not share the list with either the Professors or Poppy, rest easy. They will have to do their own research, as usual._

A deep chuckle exploded from George's throat and chest at Minerva's letter. He had never realized that she had researched what Weasley's Wheezies had sold…but it made sense. Neither he nor Fred had ever been able to pull one over on her while at Hogwarts.

He would see she received not only this year's product listing, including effects…but all future years too.

Xoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo

_A/N: Up and coming - August 25th, 2009 "....Hermione opened her mouth…but Minerva raised her hand. "Please hear me out, first." She dropped her hand, resting both upon her legs as she took a deep, steadying breath. "Recently I have found myself in a most unusual and rather unprecedented position. Due to the rigors of my position, in combination with my health, I believe it would be wise for another person to accompany me on my…exploits, shall we say. And I would like you to be that person."_

_I hope you enjoyed. I know it was a little different than most chapters; but...thought it would be a great way to show the other Order members magical abilities and begin to lay the groundwork for Hermione's training. Hope to hear your thoughts and see ya all next week ;)_


	13. Chapter 12 August 25, 2009

**Chapter 12 ~ Tuesday, August 25****th****, 2009**

Hermione stopped upon entering the Headmistress' chambers as her eyes met those of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "I heard you had resigned from the Ministry, but I had not realized you had gone to Hogwarts."

Minerva could feel the already tense atmosphere double, especially as Hermione's back became rigid and her voice bordering on scathing. "After recent events, no…I daresay you wouldn't have."

"Minister," Minerva snapped, drawing the hostile gaze to her. "I believe _our_ meeting has concluded." Golden brown and emerald eyes clashed, and with grating effort, Minerva forced the rest of her words from her mouth. "The rest of the information will be on your desk by the time you arrive at the Ministry in the morning."

"See that it is." Kingsley said, rising to his feet, never breaking eye contact with the Headmistress.

It wasn't until he turned away from Minerva, that Hermione could see the sheer loathing etched on both their faces. Kingsley strode out of the room, pausing for a moment by Hermione. "I see that you also allow your personal feelings to influence your decisions." He whispered before sweeping from the room.

"That would be you." Hermione stated before the door closed and growled in frustration, momentarily forgetting that she was standing in Minerva's office. "Oh…that man."

Minerva allowed the chuckle to erupt from her lips, feeling the stress from her previous meeting ease from her neck and shoulders. "Recently, I have been having those same thoughts."

Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth, "I…" She shook her head, "Sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"Spoken the truth?" A smile curling her lips, "I do hope you continue to do so, Hermione. You just may have to watch where you say it." Minerva rounded her desk, "I thank you for coming up here, and I do apologize that the Minister was still here this morning upon your arrival. Tea?" She asked, motioning to the red and gold patterned sofa.

"I…uh…" Hermione nodded, clearing her throat. "Tea sounds lovely." She stepped farther into the room. "I didn't realize that you and Shacklebolt were still conducting regular meetings." Hermione said as she pulled the robes to her while sitting.

"It is an unfortunate side effect of our respective positions, and the information exchange that is required between the Ministry and Hogwarts." Minerva sat down opposite of Hermione, reaching her hand out just as tray of tea and cups arrived.

Hermione shook her head, "You must tell me how you do that."

Minerva paused in picking up the pot, eyes narrowing in question. "I'm sorry, to what are you referring?"

Hermione leaned forward, "This." She touched the tray, laden with tea, ginger newts, cups, and orange biscuits. Minerva's puzzled expression remained, and Hermione elaborated. "You never call for the tea, nor is there any forewarning, and yet you know when the tray is appearing. Previously, you stated that you had become sensitized to the shift in Hogwarts magic, and I was wondering and am quite curious – how?"

Minerva returned her attention to pouring their cups of tea, "As I stated earlier, if you work here long enough, even you will be able to tell when the tea is coming."

"I have asked Sinistra, Pomona and several other staff." She stated, "None have heard of such a thing."

Minerva could see Albus shifting in his portrait out of her peripheral vision as she leaned back, eyes focusing upon Hermione. She had to remember to be more careful. "I have no doubt," She said, handing a cup to the younger witch. "As Filius has only been connected to the wards for the past decade and no others here have been. I have been the Deputy and subsequent Headmistress for over forty years, and for better or worse, become accustomed to telling when a shift in the wards has occurred."

"I guess I won't be learning that little trick any time soon." Hermione said raising her cup to her lips. "I wanted to ask, do you by chance still have your lesson plans from when you taught Transfiguration?"

Minerva felt the pressure in her lower back ease as she leaned into the sofa. "I believe I can lay my hands on a copy. Did Willard not leave his notes?"

"He did," Hermione replied. "However, they were not very…detailed." She cleared her throat, "Nor were they organized in a fashion that I am comfortable teaching."

"I shall have a copy of my notes, in addition to that of Albus' when he taught, sent to you." Minerva stated.

"That would be wonderful." Hermione felt relief at the notion that perhaps she would not be re-writing every Transfiguration class plans. She was certain that her previous Transfiguration teacher had written detail notes regarding each lesson.

"Now…" Minerva paused, trying to determine how best to broach the reason why she had asked Hermione here this morning. "As you are aware, Johannes has been a focal point of mine for some time."

Hermione had wondered why a pensive expression had crossed Minerva's face, but at her words, she sat up a little straighter, her entire attention focused on Minerva.

Minerva continued on, her gaze finally lifting from the tea. "And what I have not discussed at the Order meetings has been the sheer volume of times that I have left in search of him."

"When did you search for him…" Hermione asked, her throat going dry as she asked for clarification.

"Before he resurfaced, I devoted an exceptional amount of my time and personal resources in locating him."

"And you didn't find him?" Surprise lined Hermione's question.

A smile drew across the other woman's lips, thinning them out. "Oh, I found him." She said, voice becoming as distant as her gaze, "Twice."

Hermione waited several heartbeats, hoping the older woman would explain, and after agonizing seconds held in anticipation, she finally broke down and asked. "And?"

"Once was in Madrid seven years ago, the other time, here in England not quite five." She brought her mind back to the present, "He did not know who I was…as I had been taking polyjuice…" She remembered the ferocious battles that had passed between them, and how both times she had chosen to spare his life for that of another. She still bore a thin scar across both of her upper thighs where his rictasempra had sliced deep through both sets of quadriceps muscles in Madrid.

"And you were unable to bring him in?" Hermione didn't understand how the woman before her had failed twice before.

Minerva found herself at a crossroads, to either let Hermione in and understand what she was getting herself involved in or…not. She already couldn't divulge _so_ much… "I…" Minerva leaned forward, setting her tea cup down. Eyes momentarily resting upon the scant amount of liquid remaining in the bottom before turning her full attention to Hermione. "I shall explain, but prior to, I must ask a rather important question."

Hermione opened her mouth…but Minerva raised her hand. "Please hear me out, first." She dropped her hand, resting both upon her legs as she took a deep, steadying breath. "Recently I have found myself in a most unusual and rather unprecedented position. Due to the rigors of my position, in combination with my health, I believe it would be wise for another person to accompany me on my…exploits, shall we say. And I would like you to be that person."

Hermione didn't know what to say, as ten thousand questions rushed through mind at once mixing with the utter surprise and shock at what the other woman had proposed. "I…why me?" She finally asked as she tried wrapping her brain around Minerva's words, as other questions sputtered from her mouth. "I mean, not that I'm not flattered, it's just…surely there are better wizards and witches. Not that I can't learn, but Rory, Filius…Tessa, they are far better choices. Harold."

"You are living at Hogwarts…"

"So does Filius." Hermione interjected.

"He does, however, I cannot risk both of our lives and leave Hogwarts undefended. As for the others, there are reasons why I have not chosen them."

"And you aren't going to tell me…" Hermione shook her head, "No, that's not good enough. If you are asking me to risk my life, I have every right to know why me, and why not those who very recently showed how good they are at dueling. They obviously care about you, and I believe they would be willing to help."

"I am in need of someone who knows that I must return back to Hogwarts when I have become injured, and I am not willing to divulge that information – even to the Order."

"But…"

"That is final, Hermione. There will be no brokering or arguing that point." Minerva's voice becoming galvanized, "Next, you must realize that if I did not need another person, I would never ask. However, I have reached a point where duty has replaced pride, and I am asking. As for why you; you have a natural aptitude to see things as others do not. I need someone who can piece together complex problems quickly and with little assistance. In addition, they must be close, for there will be occasions when I will need to leave very quickly. And lastly, there is the personal reason. After everything I have lost throughout my life, I will not endanger any member of my family. I would not even ask you, as you have a family of your own, but my choices are truly limited. There are only a handful of people who I trust to accompany me, and though you may not be able to fight as well as I, I can train you – if you are willing. That is all the explanation I have to offer, Hermione. If you chose to accept, you must realize that secrecy is paramount and this will extend even to your friends. The decision, however, is entirely yours. And I will completely understand if you say no."

Hermione just stared at Minerva, completely and utterly dumbfounded. When she had been asked to come to the Headmistress' office, she had no idea what Minerva had wanted to discuss with her, but _this_ certainly wasn't it. Not in her wildest dreams… She didn't know where to go, what to say. What do you say when your mentor, a woman whom you idolized during your youth, who you wished could and would see you as an equal, as a friend…had just asked for your help? But the cost…could very well be her life. Not that being an Order member didn't come with risk…but, from the sound of Minerva's words, it sounded as though she was seeking the risk. However, learning how to fight from Minerva, should exponentially diminish the danger.

But what of Rose or Hugo if something happened to her?

Hermione could feel the tears blurring her vision, but forced them to remain at bay. It would be no different if she died answering the Order's call…with the rather large exception that she may have died because she hadn't been trained to fight by Minerva. And what of Minerva's family…she had risked so much…it was no wonder why she didn't wish her family to be involved. To lose two children, a grandchild… "Do you have any grandchildren?"

Minerva had been prepared for a hundred other questions, and frowned at the question wondering at Hermione's logic. But she answered it anyways. "Two. Cal is Hugo's age and Katherine will turn four later this year."

"I can't imagine losing either of my children, let alone a grandchild." A deep tenderness laced her words, "And I understand why you wish to keep your family safe." She cleared her throat, "Am I correct in assuming that Johannes knows of your children…"

"He was part of the family, Hermione. He knows who my other son and daughter are. He does not know of the grandchildren, though. Nor is he able to find their homes, or mine, they are unplottable, as long as he cannot find our respective Secret Keepers."

"Even though he has been there previously?"

"It matters not. He can picture the home, know it exists, but the location will remain ambiguous. He could walk right by one of our homes, as will everyone else, unless the Secret Keepers tell him."

"Aren't you worried he'll discover you or your family's secret keepers since he knows you, your friends…?"

"We have taken precautions."

Hermione nodded, she was sure Minerva had taken multiple precautions. But she knew that even the best precautions did not stop disaster from happening. However, from the set of Minerva's jaw, she knew this topic was a dead end. "Define, exploits?"

"It would be safe to infer that I have no intention of remaining idyll and hope to bring this to an end sooner, than later."

"And these exploits...?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer to my question, therefore, neither shall you."

Hermione paused, wondering what questions to ask that would garner information and which ones would be rebuked. "You mentioned that in combination with your position and your health…is it becoming too much?" She tried to recall Minerva's words from several weeks ago at the Order meeting. "You were struck with a curse, injured several years ago and somehow it still affects you now." Brown eyes swept over the other witch's face. "When you are tired, it affects far more than just your energy level – or is there more to it?"

Minerva hid behind her stoic face, "Again, a question that I cannot answer. Perhaps another?"

A cheshire grin spread across Hermione's face at Minerva's dry witticism. "If I were George, I would lay a large wager that the root of our conversation stems from something related to your health."

"Thankfully, you are not George." Minerva's brow arching, "As he has yet to learn when to take a wager and when to pass."

The two witches held the others gaze, before a deep sigh escaped Hermione's lips. "I have always respected you, Minerva. And I understand that you have your reasons why you do not wish to divulge copious amounts of personal information to people, especially those that care." She leaned forward, finally setting her own teacup back on the table. "I have no idea what it took for you to ask for help, and I suspect I never will…as you are the epitome of a private person. But, I am torn…" She shook her head, "For you know so much about me. You know my children, my friends… You expect me to risk my life, which I am most willing to do, yet you have given me so little. You spoke of trust, and you ask for mine unconditionally…then I ask for you to at least give me the opportunity to earn yours and my answer shall be yes."

If it were possible, every portrait would have fallen from their frames…as they pressed forward incrementally more…

Minerva stared deep into Hermione's eyes…and then stood, pausing by the back of the sofa for a moment before she continued to the window. She could feel Hermione's gaze at her back, as her emerald eyes sought solace in Albus' white marble tomb that sparkled in the sun.

How different would the world have been had she died that dreaded day? Would her daughter have died? Would Johannes be seeking the heart of Hogwarts? Would the Order even have to have been re-activated? What of the Simmons…or Terrance? Or the young family in Austria?

A tear slipped from her eye, as she knew that life didn't deal in absolutes. Time was far more complex…and her life these past years had been punctuated with heart-warming events that helped stay the cold of death. The birth of her two grandchildren, Helena and Harold's three grandchildren, Tessa's second level mastership…the children of Hogwarts…Percival's breakthrough in treating cancer…

"I…" She cleared her throat, but stopped…grabbing the wall for support, as a deep thrum swept through her and she felt her chest constrict. She couldn't breathe, her knees buckling…

"Minerva!" Hermione jumped from the sofa, arms outstretched as Minerva took in a deep staggering breath, pain lacing her face.

"The wards…" She breathed out as Hermione's hands wrapped around her arm. "There's…" She paused as another pulse shot through her.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, feeling a jolt of magic practically burn her fingers.

"Hogwarts." Minerva said in a labored voice. "The north wing." Her breaths were nothing short of gasps. "Albus…Severus…" She blinked, feeling her vision warble as she tried to focus. "Portraits, alert the staff." Minerva gritted her teeth, using Hermione's arm to assist in balancing her as she stood. "There are three intruders in the north wing."

Hermione had never seen the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistress move so fast, as one every last portrait had left, their frames now hanging empty. "Intruders as in…?"

Minerva winced as she straightened to her full height, no longer leaning on Hermione. "We must go." She waved her hand, her walking stick morphing back into her ebony wand as it sailed through the air.

"But…you, just now. Are you sure you're alright?"

"No one said that being the Headmistress came only with perks." Minerva replied, "I shall be fine, Hogwarts though, needs us." Upon hearing Minerva's words, Hermione immediately began to head towards the door. Minerva momentarily watching her, and with a sigh, she made a decision. Trust. "Hermione…"

Hermione turned as the door opened, Minerva hadn't moved.

"Have your wand at the ready, and give me your hand." She stated striding towards her, arm outstretched.

"I thought…"

"This is far more expedient." She said as her fingers curled around Hermione's hand.

Hermione felt a tingling sensation sweep through her body, a pulse, a shifting…and then she was standing next to the corner of a corridor, at the other end of Hogwarts. "How…?"

"They are just beyond." Minerva whispered, "Stay focused." Minerva momentarily closing her eyes as she took a settling breath, forcing the last half hour from her mind as she focused on what she needed to do. At once, she stepped around the corner, casting a series of spells.

Hermione immediately following suite, the hall was quickly bathed in a menagerie of light as the two witches battled against one rusty robed witch and two wizards; one in black robes the other navy.

"Return to…" Minerva's jinx snapped that man's legs together and he fell, but before either witch or wizard could move towards him to catch him, the flagstone floor momentarily vanished as his body fell through and then solidified, he was gone.

Hermione took the brief opportunity, animating the suits of armor behind the men…but as she turned her head back, she realized that there wasn't enough time to cast a shield charm as a blinding bolt of white was a mere two feet from her face.

Then the bolt jerked to the side as Minerva arced her wand…the bolt immediately conforming to her bidding, lurching back at the wizard who cast it.

The thanks died on Hermione's lips as the battle intensified. Reds, blues…greens, she was trying to cast faster, the suits of armor hampering the intruders efforts, but not enough to truly hinder them. And as if reading her thoughts, Minerva frowned, "Hold them." She breathed, and before Hermione could ask what she meant, Minerva's jaw tensed and with a flourish, the green bolt shattered her protego charm…striking her, and at once the hall was lit with every shade of green imaginable and then she was gone.

Hermione stood momentarily in shock as the wizard from across the hall yelled, "I killed her. She's dead Eve."

Eve shot another two bolts at Hermione, "Our job isn't."

At once he joined in, and Hermione found herself fighting…barely…two people at once. It took every ounce of skill she possessed to maintain her defense against both Eve and the wizard. They were quickly gaining ground, and Hermione began hoping against hope that Minerva had not died. _Don't be ridiculous…_she chastised herself, _Minerva McGonagall die from a spell that had broken through her shield charm…surely not. She was too smart a witch…wasn't she?_

Then she heard a glorious sound…clattering feet storming towards her. _The other staff._

Obviously Eve and the wizard had heard the noise too, as they began retreating backwards…stepping around the corner out of Hermione's view. Taking a deep breath, Hermione tightened her grip around the vinewood handle of her wand, hurrying forward.

She heard a series of shouts, and without thought, charged around the corner as Eve's bound body struck the ground…next to the body of the wizard. There, standing or rather leaning heavily upon the wall, was the Headmistress. Even from this distance, Hermione could see that the woman's color was ashen.

"Minerva. Are you alright?" Hermione jogged ahead, and before she responded, she could tell that Minerva was having difficulty breathing.

"You did well." She breathed turning and resting her back along the wall.

"Were you hit?" Hermione's eyes were immediately scanning the woman's robes looking for any evidence of spell damage. And then she noticed Minerva's wand hand…it appeared as though the tips of her fingers were burnt. "You need to see Poppy…your hand."

Minerva tiredly pulled her hand upwards, frowning as she took in the blackened fingertips. "So it would seem."

Filius rounded the corner, floating mid-air, legs bent beneath him, faster than one could imagine, an army of soldiers in tow. "Minerva. Thank Merlin." He stated, stopping a few feet from them. "Hermione. Are you both alright?" Worry lacing his normally high-pitched voice.

"Nothing a few potions won't cure." Minerva replied, "Filius, if you would be so kind as to levitate the intruders…"

Pomona, Neville and Hagrid stormed up the opposite hall. "Everything alright?" Neville asked, eyes sweeping across the corridor.

"Fine." Hermione stated.

"We tried to use the North Lawn…"

"It has been blocked." Minerva cut in.

Sinistra and Clemons slid around the corner, wands out. "We heard."

Minerva's voice quickly carried to them, "The intruders have been stopped. Please inform the other members of the staff." They both nodded, and she turned around, "Pomona, please go along the north west corridor, I am sure that Viktor and Liannia will be coming that way. Inform them that the intruders have been stopped."

Pomona gave a curt nod and at once spun around as Minerva continued, "Hagrid, please walk and verify the outer Foundation along the entrance, ensure that it was only the breezeway that collapsed."

"As I was saying," Her eyes returned to Filius, "Take them to the dungeons, third chamber. If I am not mistaken, Hogwarts has already seen fit to deposit one wizard there." Filius frowned at Minerva, but knew better than to interject. "And after, begin repairs on the North entrance, the wards collapsed the structure upon their entry. By nightfall, we at least need to ensure the wards are intact." She quietly finished.

"Right away, Minerva." Filius replied and with a flick of his wand, the witch and wizard jumped into the air and were moving around the corner Filius in tow; leaving Hermione and Minerva alone.

"You did well handling the two of them," Minerva stated pushing herself away from the wall, and with a muffled groan she morphed her wand back into her walking stick.

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked, not noticing Minerva's momentary discomfort as they began walking as she immediately followed up her initial question. "And how did you apparate within Hogwarts? The wards prevent anyone from apparating, except the house elves."

"As Headmistress, there are a few exceptions." Minerva replied trying to remain focused as she placed one foot in front of the other. It would take her another ten minutes, at a brisk pace, to reach her office. She needed to contact the Ministry…it would be a solid hour before she would be able to have a moment of solitude, and perhaps an hour of rest. Drawing to a stop right before turning the corner to the next corridor, she took a breath, it was best to quickly finish one issue so she could begin to resolve the ever-expanding list. "Hermione, I'm afraid I don't have time today, and I need you to assist with the repair along the North Entrance, but know that I do trust you."

Hermione stopped, turning, "Words …"

"Are not deeds." Minerva finished. "I am well aware. But be forewarned, my family is my life."

Hermione nodded, "I understand."

Green eyes seemed to pierce brown ones, pinning them…measuring the truth and sincerity of her words, "My children's names are filed under McDore in Edinborough. McDore is short for McGonagall and Dumbledore, as Albus was my husband. Percival and Tessa the names of our other two children. I believe that should seal our agreement."

Upon finishing, Minerva turned and left a gapping Hermione starring after her. Minerva rounded the corner and quietly called Elgin, and at once the elder house elf appeared…wrapped his weathered fingers around her arm, and with a silent pop returned to her chambers.

Hermione blinked herself back to reality, "Minerva…" She called out, stepping around the corner…only to stare at an empty corridor. Her mind still reeling from the fact that Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore had been married…with four children...

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Shaky fingers unfastened the Celtic broach as the door opened to her rooms, "You should have laid down hours ago or at least taken a brief nap." Albus' gentle voice said in way of greeting.

Minerva didn't bother to glancing up, "Yes, I should have, but…" Her outer robe tumbling to the ground as she continued walking until she was beside her bed and night stand along the right side. Gently, she set the broach down, along with her wand… "You heard my heated conversation with Kingsley," She could still feel his stinging words, and recall the pounding blood within her ears as their argument escalated…

_"The audacity, to believe this is anything other than an attack against, YOU!" Kingsley thundered._

_"Ah, yes, I purposely sought Johannes and asked him to stage attacks against me throughout England, to increase my popularity." She retorted, her Gaelic accent seeping into her words as her ire increased. "As I have the same syndrome as Albus, a wanton desire to become Minister of Magic through sheer popularity."_

_"Then you are conceding the notion that Johannes is not after the wizarding world, and that I was correct in that it is a personal vendetta between you."_

_All of the portraits' eyes turned to Minerva, waiting…and knowing by the purse of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes, her thick accent creeping into her voice, that her temper was about to be unleashed…_

_"One that I'm willing to bet far surpasses that of your daughter's death…"_

_…and they were right…_

_The outer part of her irises glowing red as her emerald eyes turned hazel…_

_…Albus had never seen her so angry, and as she opened her mouth, the portraits shuttered, not knowing if the Minister of Magic would survive her tirade…_

"And then the subsequent conversation about the three intruders who murdered themselves versus being taken prisoner. Not to mention the wards…"

"Did you allow Helena or Poppy to see your hand?" He asked, nodding to her still blackened fingers.

"Yes, why?" She asked immediately dropping her gaze to her fingers, "Damn." She muttered as she noticed her fingers. "This isn't from this morning, Hogwarts healed them." She flexed her hand, feeling the skin pull…the joints strain.

"The warding?" Albus questioned. Being a portrait meant that Albus' twinkle was _supposed _ to be ever present, it had vanished as he leaned in closer, as he peered over his half moon spectacles…worry now lacing his blue eyes.

Disheartened, Minerva nodded. "It appears."

"Did you…?"

Minerva immediately interjected, "I'm exhausted Albus. My magical stores are abysmally low and until I rest..." She finally glanced up to him, "I'll have to use some of Hogwarts magic…despite the consequences." She sat heavily on the covers, too tired to care that she had not removed her inner robes. "I should be alright in the morning. Though…I believe, gloves may be coming back in style."

"Tartan perhaps?" He asked, joining in – hoping to moderately raise his wife's spirits. "Or perchance lime green or sherbert lemon?"

Minerva waved her hand, feeling her magic pull…as her boots vanished, her fingers becoming slightly more burnt as she laid back, propped up with pillows. "Maybe I'll have a tartan pattern generated with your suggestion."

Albus' face blanched, "I believe that may be too much for even me to wear."

A weary smile graced her face, "If it's too much for you, then I daresay, I shall have to regale myself to either my family's tartan or something a bit more elegant; black perhaps?"

"I believe rest remains your best course of action."

Minerva reached up and pulled her glasses from her face, absently setting them on the table… "I concur." She manually reached up, pulling the handful of pins from her bun and at once she could feel her hair tumbling down as it was freed from its constraints. "The North Entrance should be finished in the morning, hopefully enabling a week's respite."

"Please try, Tabby."

"Hmmmm…" She closed her eyes, the candles along the wall immediately dimming. "Sounds lovely."

"You are." He whispered.

"What?" She blinked, staving sleep for but a moment more. "Did you…?"

"Good night." He stated slightly louder.

"Hmmm," She sighed, "You too." Without thought, she rolled over, spreading out across the whole of her overly large bed… Her mind slowly shutting down as her body gave way to the sheer exhaustion permeating it, "I told Hermione about you and the children." She muttered into her pillow. "She seemed rather shocked."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxox

"Is Professor's Hermione needs anything else?" Milksy asked, head upturned as her large yellow eyes stared up at the witch, waiting. "Professor's?" She asked again.

Hermione shook her head, smiling down at the peculiar house elf. Unlike so many of her kind, Milksy wore a flowing tunic tied at the waist in stout Gryffindor colors. There was a sprig where a broach would typically be placed…Hermione narrowed her eyes, trying to determine what the flower was…

"Professor's? You'se alrights?" Conern lacing her tiny voice.

"I'm fine." Hermione finally stated, "But please call me Hermione."

Milksy's face seemed to twitch, "You'se tea." She pointed to the previously delivered tray.

"Thank you, Milksy." With an acknowledging nod and a soft pop, Hermione was, once again, alone. Her mind already shifting back to what or rather who had occupied her thoughts for the past twelve hours – Minerva McGonagall.

Absently she poured herself a cup of tea, adding a hint of honey to the steaming liquid.

Minerva had been married to Albus Dumbledore. They had always seemed so close…but never married close, or did they, and she had not even known to look? Who would have thought? Hermione remembered the funeral, the withdrawn look etched on McGonagall's face…dear Merlin, to not be able to openly grieve for her husband? And their children…had they been there? Would she or would anyone have known with so many other dignitaries, acquaintances, and persons from the Ministry?

To keep that hidden from the public for so long, the Daily Prophet…

Hermione took a long sip of the warm lemon tea, mind churning.

There was no way! The Prophet…someone other than their handful of friends and family had to have known. It was impossible…they were in the public far too much. And how in Merlin's name was she able to have four children and still teach at Hogwarts, and the press…no one for that matter finding out?

The Prophet had printed hundreds…thousands of slanderous articles about Harry, even Dumbledore and McGonagall. However, she had never recalled one being printed about them as anything _other_ than Headmaster and Deputy. Now that she thought about it, the Prophet had always been respectful of their relationship, even when they were being persecuted for anything and everything. The children…she paused, realizing that Minerva's best friend was a medi-witch and could have easily delivered the children. But the names…the records…

"Ugh!" She muttered, before downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. She needed to talk to someone, work out the reasons, the how's…but she couldn't. She wouldn't violate Minerva's trust, but it would certainly be wonderful to bend Ginny and Harry's ear for a few days.

"Milksy." She called out, already reaching behind her and pulling her hair back.

A crack resonated through her chamber, "You'se called?"

"Can you access the library?" Hermione asked.

Milksy's brows furrowed, voice hesitant. "I's can, Professor. You'se can too."

"Please bring me the Hogwart's annual albums from 1956 through 1997."

"But's with the beginning of term," Milksy stalled, not liking the idea of dealing with the Lead Librarian.

"I will have them all returned prior to then." Hermione stated, but could still sense Milksy's unease. "I promise."

"Verys well." Milksy's face curled downwards, "I's brings them here, buts if Irma's upset…she's goes straight to the Mistress."

"The Mistress?" Hermione asked, not understanding.

Milksy bobbed her head, "Yes, the Mistress." She reaffirmed, before babbling on. "And she's not been feeling well these past several weeks, meaning she's not be in good mood and be's unhappy with Milksy."

"Milksy," Hermione kneeled lower, bringing her eye level with the house elf. "Do you mean the Headmistress?"

"That is a name many call her, though she is still Milksy's mistress." The little house elf stated proudly.

"You are a free house elf, Milksy and have no masters or mistresses. You belong to none," Hermione could feel disappointment and the beginning threads of anger towards Minerva increase, as they had corresponded several times over the years regarding house elves freedom. Minerva had always been a proponent…apparently only on the surface. "You are free. All house elves who serve at Hogwarts are free."

Milksy gazed at Hermione as if she were daft. "I's been free since birth, longs before Hogwarts."

"But you called Minerva, Mistress." Hermione stated.

"She is."

Hermione forced her voice to remain steady, despite her own confusion at Milksy's terminology. "But how…why do you call her Mistress if you are free?"

A large, warm smile broke across the middle-aged house elf, "McGonagall's have never owned house elves, Professor's Hermione. Theys treats us as equals…" She fingered the edge of her clothes, "Gives us coin, clothes, foods, even land. She is Mistress of the McGonagalls."

"You mean you came here with Minerva?"

Milksy nodded, "I's came here, so did mys brother Vlegn. Vlegn is nows home."

"At McGonagall Manor?" Hermione asked trying to understand.

Milksy's large yellow eyes blinked, "No's and yes."

"I…" Hermione thought better of trying to make more sense out of the term home, "How many house elves serve Minerva?"

Milksy clucked, "You'se not understanding. We's work for her, we's not serve."

"How many work for Minerva?" Hermione asked.

"Twenty-two." Milksy stated with ease.

Twenty-two house elves! Merlin's beard, the other night when both Helena and Minerva had jested about Minerva's financial security and the bottle of Malt, she hadn't fully believed either of them. Believing it was boasting based upon liquor and not so much based in truth. But to have twenty-two house elves, paying each of them… Apparently, neither woman had been boasting.

"You said that Minerva had not been feeling well for the past several weeks, what do you mean?" She asked, finally realizing the sprig was a piece of heather.

Milksy blinked several times, as if blinking tears from her eyes. "She's not been well, and she's not been able to rest to regain her strength. But, she's be alright." With watery eyes, she smiled. "I's goes gets you'se the books."

"Milksy," Hermione gently reached out, fingers wrapping around the house elf's spindly arm. "How long has Minerva not been well?"

At this Milksy shook her head, sorrow filling her face. "I's already told you'se more than I's should have."

"I want to help her, Milksy." She let her hand fall from Milksy's arm. "Nothing more."

Milksy narrowed her own eyes, peering momentarily into Hermione's…and then she blanched backwards. "You'se wants to be's her friend." She said quietly, and then paused as if measuring her words before speaking them. "Mistress has not been well since the Master died. She's is torn between two worlds and she's is losing, until one day she's will become lost and we's will see her no more." The tiny house elf's voice breaking slightly, "Milksy's heart breaks for when that day comes."

Hermione felt her own heart clench at the news, "What do you mean torn between two worlds? How long until she loses?"

Milksy shook her head, "I's cannot tells you'se more, Professor's Hermione. You'se have to learn the rest you'se self. You'se books be here soon." And with a snap, Milksy vanished, leaving a far more disturbed Hermione in her wake.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: We will jump to August 31__st__ next Friday and thank you for the lovely reviews!_


	14. Chapter 13 August 31, 2009

_a/n: almost posted under Tomorrow Too - runs over to drink more coffee, as that would definitely not have worked!_

**Chapter 13 ~ Monday, August 31st, 2009**

"Will you be available to come down to Hogsmeade this evening?" Rolanda Hooch asked, as she finished off her ice tea.

"Are you meeting Myriam?" Minerva inquired.

"Of course." Rolanda said, yellow eyes glowing. "It's the beginning of the year."

Minerva smiled, "I don't want to intrude…"

"Nonsense, Minerva." Rolanda said standing, "We'd love to see you, and if you happen to be in the area, please stop by the Three Broomsticks."

"Then I shall stop at least for a drink, as I haven't seen Myriam since…" She paused, thinking back over the past summer, "Mid-June." She smiled as she recalled their luncheon at The Lemon Tree, it had been an enjoyable afternoon with Rolanda and her wife.

Rolanda's face light up, "Wonderful. Myriam will be pleased."

"Till later, dear." Minerva said as Rolanda swept away.

"I remember how long the school year could be," Filius murmured as his eyes followed Rolanda's retreating form. "Few meals together, interspersed with quiet strolls on the North Lawn, knocks on the doors to our rooms throughout the night…"

"She'll be fine, as will Myriam." Minerva remarked, drinking the last of her tea, eyes scanning along the table.

"Have they been married two years, now?" Filius asked, trying to recall if Rolanda had met Myriam two or three years ago.

Minerva felt a frown curling the corners of her mouth as she realized that Hermione had missed lunch, again. It had been five days, and this would be the sixth one since Hermione had joined the staff for meals. "They celebrated their first anniversary this past June…" Minerva leaned closer to her Deputy. "Have you seen Hermione? She's missed another meal."

His gaze swept across the handful of remaining professors while he recalled those present. "Not since yesterday, she was in her office working. She had papers spread across every surface," He turned back to the Headmistress, "Much like you when researching something. Though, I believe it is regarding her finishing her lesson plans." He stood, "She had indicated yesterday that she would be done this afternoon."

"Are you and Pomona going to Lizza's this evening?" She inquired as she stood to.

He shook his head, "No, with term's start tomorrow, we decided to have a quiet evening, just the two of us. If you do not have plans, Minerva," They stepped through the large double doors. "You would be most welcome to join us."

"As much as I would love to, Filius, I have already committed to meeting Helena and Harold in Hogsmeade and will be stopping by briefly to see Rolanda and Myriam."

In times past, Filius knew that Minerva would make the rounds and visit most of the staff on the eve before Hogwart's first day. His gait drew to a stop, both witch and wizard pausing in the larger foyer, as he bent backwards, meeting her gaze. He had noted this morning that Minerva had looked far better than she had in weeks, obviously the rest over the past several days had done wonders. However, the underlying shadow beneath her eyes had remained present, and it broke his heart.

"Then perhaps a rain check?" A soft smile warming his eyes.

"One I shall be most pleased to accept, dear friend." She quietly replied.

He gave her a brief -nod, "Then I shall see you tomorrow, good night Minerva."

"Enjoy your evening, Filius." She said before turning to the steps as Filius stepped through the Great Doors.

Minerva sighed as she rounded the second staircase, her leg beginning to bother her again. The first of many clues that she was indeed, not as well as she once was, especially after resting for three solid days and only putting in half days the other two and today. Though, she did _feel_ near a hundred percent better, and her magic was pulsing, countering the soft thrum of Hogwarts.

As an afterthought, she sprang forward, morphing into her animagus state. Her lithe cat body bolting up the winding corridors to her old rooms, until she was standing before Godric's picture expectantly.

"I haven't _seen_ you in sometime, feeling better I see." Godric stated, "If you are looking for my latest charge, she has not been here in quite some time." Minerva cocked her head to the side, and Godric chuckled. "I have missed your wit."

At once Minerva returned to her human form, "While I have not missed your prattling."

"You look better as well." Godric said, noticing that some of the color had returned to her cheeks.

"Flattery will get you everywhere as usual."

Godric's rich laugh echoed down the hallway, "She has not returned since the night after the attack, five days. She has been working in her office."

"I'm sure you strolled over to verify?" She quipped.

"My dear…" He brought a hand up to his chest, "And how would I accomplish such an act?" A coy smile spreading across his chiseled features. "Perhaps, once or twice daily."

"Thank you Godric." Minerva stated, turning to leave.

"Rest easy Minerva." The portrait replied.

Within little time Minerva was leaning against the doorway to her old classroom. The years may have passed, the furniture, the décor, but the feel…she could still recall the first time she had entered the room, near seventy-five years ago. How tall the windows stood…how bright the morning sun was that streamed in…

Over seventy years…she blinked and brought her focus to the here and now. Her green eyes easily scanning the contents of the room, the strewn papers, albums littering the floor, surface…and Hermione's quill frantically scratching away at the parchment. "Not one." The younger witch muttered under her breath, pulling something else closer to her.

Minerva stood silently, just watching. The process of scribbling a handful of notes, was preceded by several minutes of reading, flipping…and then a look of annoyance would pass her face before summarily closing a thin text. Minerva quietly watched Hermione repeat this process another handful of times, knowing exactly what Hermione was searching for…

Irma had already been to see her twice regarding the sheer volume of archived documents and Hogwarts albums missing from the library. Minerva merely assured her that it would be returned prior to the beginning of term, knowing that Hermione was undoubtedly searching for proof regarding her and Albus' marriage…and as her eyes took in the Hogwarts albums spread across several desks along with stacks of Daily Prophets, she knew that Hermione's efforts thus far had been fruitless.

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Minerva asked amusement lacing her voice as Hermione bolted upright. "Or are you still searching?"

"I…" Hermione stood, "What…" She had not seen the Headmistress since Minerva had told her…six days ago. She immediately noticed Minerva had more color in her cheeks, even her eyes seemed to be twinkling…like Dumbledore's. "You look a bit more rested."

"Whereas you, do not." Hermione was about to protest as Minerva pushed herself away from the doorframe, "Come with me."

"We...I…" Hermione glanced frantically at her notes, the spread of papers, the Hogwarts' albums, praying that the woman before her had not realized what she had been working on.

"Sometime today, Professor, would be most helpful." Minerva remarked at Hermione's still form.

Hermione grasped her wand, stepping around her desk. "Where are we going?"

"As you have not left this office for the better part of five days, I believe it matters little but will be out of this room." She said, turning and began striding down the hall not bothering to look back. Minerva kept her face non-reactive as Hermione's quick steps brought her in stride with the Headmistress. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I…'ve been a bit busy, finishing my lesson plans and doing a bit of research." She stated, trying to evade what her real intentions over the past week have been.

"What type of research? Anything I may be able to assist you with?" Minerva asked barely successful in containing the mirth from her voice.

They stepped around the third floor stairway, Minerva steering them down the corridor. "No, just something of a personal interest. Are we going to the room of requirement?"

"I heard it once housed Dumbledore's Army." Minerva said drawing next to the door suddenly appearing in the wall, fingers curling around the handle. "Thought it may work for the initial part of your training."

"Training...now," Hermione sputtered as Minerva stepped into the room, and she grudgingly followed.

"I believe this shall suffice." Minerva stated, glancing about the altered room.

Unlike fifteen years ago, the Room of Requirement had generated a dueling area that resembled a long, almost Gothic chamber with high arching stain glass windows, deep mahogany wood floors…a room that resembled where the Order currently met, but was substantially longer and wider. In addition, the side farthest from the door was a paneling of mirrors, though nothing else adorned the room.

"I…" The door closed behind Hermione, and she felt as if she had been swept in a whirlwind. "Wait," She said shaking her head, "When you say training, are you referring to that of dueling?"

Minerva turned around, arms gently crossed at her wrists, resting in front of her…wand dangling from the tips of her fingers as she eyed Hermione. "That is what I agreed to train you on."

"I thought you meant training during the Order meetings." Hermione replied, wondering what precisely Minerva was referring to.

"My attention will not be focused on you, but several persons when I am able to attend the Order meetings. My intent was not to train everyone over the course of several months, if not years and I will need someone a bit sooner to assist me."

"And you wish to start today." Hermione stated rhetorically. "When I am tired, I have not seen you in six days, I didn't know…"

"A wizard's battle can occur at any time, Hermione. It has mattered little throughout my life what I had been doing prior to, nor the exhaustion within my bones…most times, I have fought at rather inopportune times." _Especially of late,_ she finished silently, before continuing on. "I would like to start small, and build upon your skills. Today is more of a test, as I have watched your recent duels many times, I would like for you to duel me."

Hermione's mind was spinning. She was exhausted…she had spent the better part of five days combing through every Hogwart's album since 1956 looking for a picture, a reference…something regarding Minerva and Albus' relationship…and of what spell she had been struck with. She had scoured the Daily Prophets up through Albus' death, and even a year after…looking for any reference. She only had another six years of Daily Prophets left, and still…she had found nothing. She wanted to return to her classrooms, and finish going through the Prophets…as she had promised to return home this evening and spend it with Rose and Hugo… She didn't have time to waste on a frivolous duel she knew she would lose. "A tempting proposition, however, I fail to see how dueling against you while utterly exhausted will benefit anyone."

Minerva flipped her wrist upward, an iridescent spark flying towards Hermione who blanched before casting a protego charm.

"Minerva!" Hermione screeched as she began backing away, wand out. "I told you…"

"That you did not wish to duel me." Minerva said walking towards Hermione, creating a circling effect.

"I'm exhausted…" She began as Minerva flipped a casual boogey-leg hex towards her.

"As you mentioned." Minerva interjected, "Repeatedly."

Hermione cancelled the hex with a charm, eyes darting to where the door once was. However, it would not appear, "Let me out."

Minerva's face quirked, "After we are finished."

"Why are you doing this?" She asked voice rising, deflecting another obvious jinx.

"I could ask a similar one regarding what was sprawled across your office." Minerva admonished as she carefully phrased her next words, wanting to further push Hermione's emotions. "You could have merely asked; that is the basis of where trust begins."

Without thought, Hermione fired a jinx back in line with her words. "You expected me to believe that you and Albus Dumbledore were married, had four children together, without a shred of proof when the whole of the wizarding world believed…believes you and Albus were nothing more than best friends. I merely sought evidence, other than your words."

Minerva spun another hex towards Hermione, "And you believed that I would purposefully deceive you?"

"No!" Hermione snapped back, her frustration at the Headmistress mounting. "But, you…" She cast two spells rapidly at Minerva, "Everything about you, your life is shrouded in mystery."

"Did you find what you sought?" Minerva asked, knowing that she did not.

Five days of frustration pulsed into Hermione's jinx in response, "No, and I have a feeling that you knew there was nothing in any of those texts, papers…"

Minerva forced herself to laugh, while the spell struck her protego charm bathing the room in a brilliant orange glow. "It wouldn't be much of a clandestine marriage if it had been published in the Daily Prophet."

Hermione threw another jinx, immediately followed by two hexes, "And you let me look…"

"You never asked." She retorted, knowing that five days of sleepless nights…pouring over texts, mounting frustrations with a friend…being mocked…Minerva kept pushing…

"Is this how you treat your friends?" Hermione snapped, feeling a thread of anger surfacing at how Minerva had let her flounder for five days on what amounted to time wasted.

Minerva buried her grin at the force of magic striking her shield charm, and silently wondered as she returned a moderately complex hex what it would take for her to cause Hermione to lose control and permit the magic to take over. "When they do not ask, but assume…then yes."

"Assume that there is a shred of literary proof regarding to what amounts as the largest cover-up in the wizarding world."

A stream of purples bathed the room…and Minerva felt her own magic pulse, and knew that it was time to draw the lesson to a close. As it would not do well for her to deplete what small reserves she had recovered this past week, when the lesson could be accomplished without taxing herself. At once, she allowed her walking stick to morph from her wand, striking the ground…causing a jolt to be sent to Hermione…holding her in place. "I believe we can discuss my life after the start of term, and once you are rested. But…" She waved her hand, releasing Hermione from her momentarily paralyzed state. "The purpose today, was to show you that it matters not how exhausted you perceive yourself to be. You still have the energy to fight, as your magic can be greatly influenced by your emotions. As we become adults, we are so accustomed to controlling our magic, that we often forget about incidental magic derived from emotional states."

Hermione stood gawking at Minerva. She had purposefully pushed her, frustrated… "This was a ruse?" She asked, voice barely a whisper.

Minerva's gait had slowed considerably as she walked towards Hermione, the pain in her hips having intensified over the past ten minutes. "Not entirely. I am assured that where you are searching, you will not find the proof you so desperately seek." She stopped next to the befuddled younger witch. "I will assume that you wished to find proof other than what I could provide, and that is why you did not merely ask me."

"If I had asked," Hermione slipped her wand into her robes, "Would you have willingly given it to me?"

"Milksy." She called out, and at once, the light skinned house elf appeared.

"Mistress." The tiny elf squeaked.

"The photo album on my desk, please place it in Hermione's private rooms." Minerva stated, before a gentle smile touched her eyes at the sprig of heather clipped upon a strand of McGonagall tartan pinned to Milksy's tunic. "And thank you for the endearment."

Milksy gave a low bow, "You'se most welcome, Mistress." She quietly uttered before winking away.

Minerva noticed Hermione's questioning look, and began walking as she spoke. "On a handful of days throughout the year," She waved a hand over her shoulder, and suddenly a sprig of heather with a thin piece of tartan pinned to the stalk appeared. "I wear a symbol, shall I say, for those lost."

"May I ask who you lost today?"

Minerva's hand paused on the bronze door handle, eyes becoming distant… "My parents." She quietly stated, trying to recall happy memories of times past.

Hermione gently reached over to the Headmistress. "I am so sorry."

"Yes, well." Minerva opened the door, and at once, the room began shrinking as she stepped out, followed by Hermione. "They made a choice, one that took me the better part of my life to understand and accept. Because, ultimately, their choice enabled my younger brother and I to live."

Everything from the past ten minutes swept over Hermione, and as with most conversations involving Minerva these days – she was reeling. The woman had an uncanny knack for sending her world topsy turvy. But to have lost her parents…who it seemed had made a choice that at the time, Minerva had been resentful for and had cost them their lives. "A younger brother…"

"Derrick." Minerva replied to the unspoken question. "He was three years younger than I."

"Is he still, alive?" She asked, hopeful as they rounded the corner.

Minerva paused, a sad smile crossing her face, "No. He died nineteen days after Callum." She could still hear his arguments, see the fire burning in his eyes about going after those responsible and how he would not permit another member of their family to be killed. Not after all they had lost during Grindlewald's reign of terror. She cleared her throat, "He went after Callum's attackers, killed several, and subsequently caught…however, Tom knew he was my brother, and did not immediately kill him."

"What happened?"

Minerva's eyes glazed over, she could still feel the white-hot anger at the letter she had received mixed with utter fear for her baby-brother's life. The ensuing argument with Albus and Rory…that all three could not go. One of them had to remain behind to protect the children…

Albus had insisted that she be the one to stay behind, but Rory had sided with her…

"_Riddle will be expecting her, not you." He stated, "She is his brother, and we have all made concessions for the two of you to help maintain your perceived relationship…and now it is your turn."_

"_Then I'll take polyjuice potion." Albus rebuked, eyes leveling at Minerva. "If something were to happen…"_

"_He's my brother, Albus. And if I am to die, then know that I love you with every fiber of my soul, but I will not let him remain in their clutches a moment longer. After everything he and I have been through…" She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No." Her voice rising, "I will gladly trade my place for his."_

_Rory's jaw clenched, a muscle rippling along his cheek to stave off the heart-wrenching notion that he may never see Derrick again. "That cannot happen, Minerva."_

_Minerva's long braid of ebony hair whipped around with her head, "Versus the alternative…"_

_A solitary tear slipped from Rory's smoky eyes, voice as deep as the southern gorge and as gravelly as the highland river beds. "One that neither he nor I could live with, sis." He said pulling her into his broad arms, his breath shuttering as he tried to remain strong._

"_Will get him back…" She whispered against his ear, "For both our sakes…"_

"_God…let that be true."_

They had left shortly after…had encountered a bit of resistance, but in the end…had left a wake of destruction, and none alive.

"Rory and I…" She cleared her throat, as voices reverberated off the walls, "Perhaps another night…" She smiled, eyes becoming haunted with pain.

"I didn't mean…" Hermione began, but Minerva merely shook her head turning.

"Not the best time, dear." She uttered, "And after this next week, would you be kind enough to…good afternoon Hagrid."

"Headmistress… 'Ermione."

"Hagrid." Hermione replied in kind as they continued down the stairs.

Minerva continued on as if they had not passed Hagrid, "Let me know what evenings or mornings you are available to train. The more opportunities, the better…but please realize there will be times when I won't be working with you, in those instances, Filius will."

Hermione felt herself nod, "Would four times per week be ample?" Hermione asked, almost dreading the answer. She didn't know how she was going to manage teaching…training, running Gryffindor house…

"Quite." Minerva replied stopping at the Gargoyle.

"Earlier…when we were dueling…" Hermione began, but Minerva shook her head.

"Leave it, Hermione. Life is too short for nonsense, just learn and move on."

"I don't equate friendship as nonsense." Hermione said, meeting Minerva's gaze.

"Nor do I." She waved her hand in front of the Gargoyle.

"Headmistress." It gutturally stated, "Welcome." Before springing aside.

"Get some rest and enjoy your evening with your children." She raised her foot, placing it upon the first stair as she turned to her as if in afterthought. "And in the future, just ask regarding my marriage and children. Besides," Her brow arched at the thought, "I'm sure Albus would love the opportunity to regale someone else regarding our life."

"Before, your parents…your brother…"

"Their deaths were neither pleasant nor easy to recall, Hermione." She reached out, hand wrapping around Hermione's upper arm. "Ask another time, in a quiet venue and I shall tell you." She gave the younger witch a searching look, filled with warmth and...something else buried beneath years of pain. "In the mean time, enjoy _your _family. All of them. Time is short," She dropped her hand, tenderness lacing her words. "And so very precious."

"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione stated, feeling the tension of the past several days finally leaving her shoulders. "Have a good evening."

"Give my regards to the Potters and your children, and I'll see you in the morning."

Hermione's face light up at the notion of seeing her friends and family. "I will."

The gargoyle stopped its grinding motion, as Minerva's voice floated down the staircase, "And do please return the books to Irma before you leave. She's already been up here twice this week, wondering who had absconded with close to fifty years of records."

Hermione's rich laugh could be heard across the entire second floor…

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Hermione wrapped her hair in the thick woolen towel, body in a thin icy blue robe and stepping into her private chambers. She had never realized how large the professor's rooms were, they were larger than Ron's flat.

A study with a large fireplace set immediately behind Godric's portrait; and during her tenure as a student, Hermione had always believed that Minerva's private rooms had existed just beyond, but she couldn't have been farther from the truth. The study connected into a large living room area that sprawled a solid 10 meters wide and 15 meters in length. Four other doors wrapped around the living space, two were spare rooms, as if Hogwarts itself had known how large to make her inner dwellings, – which she had already set up for when Rose and Hugo visited, one was a loo, and the fourth was to her bedroom…which she had already fallen in love with.

Filius had been keenly accurate; the tower sported a glorious view of the Quidditch pitch, the distant hills of the Highlands, even the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Her first morning, she had risen with the sunrise…and could easily see why Minerva was an early riser. The array of colors, the morning dew sparkling across the land…the sun glinting off the tiny droplets as it rose behind the distant hills, and for one moment the angle would strike the dew and the world would burst into a million rainbows…

The room itself was spherical…with two doors, one to her main living quarters, the other her private bath chambers. The furniture was a deep rich, bronzy color of wormy chestnut…sculpted in a classic cut, with straight lines and brilliant craftsmanship.

As she sat upon her bed, drawing her robe across her leg…she imagined what it would be like to call this place – home, and for a moment, enjoyed the feeling.

Before her burning curiosity took over, which she had not been satiated for the last three hours. Her fingers already toying with the corner of the album resting before her. Across the front was a simple inscription, _The Mc-Dores; 1952-1953_

Stilling her anxiousness, Hermione gently opened the front cover, three simple notes graced the top page – centered. Hermione immediately recognized the first set of writing as Dumbledore's peculiar loopy purple script, the second one was in Minerva's distinct elegant green one; the third piece a mixture between the two.

_To speak of love and to know of love, I never knew the true meaning until I met you and held you within my arms. For all that I am, all that I have been, and all that I will be…know this – it is for naught, without you – as you, are my life._

_Passionate kisses, tender gazes, comfortable silences punctuated by long walks, and I find myself wondering when the dreams have mixed with reality. And I care not, as long as you are by my side, completing me._

_McGonagall ~ Dumbledore; hereafter and forever more, McDore. June 14__th__, 1952._

Hermione re-read the notes, and almost didn't turn the page, not knowing if she had a right to see what lay beyond. But if Minerva didn't feel that she should be seeing what lay beyond, surely she wouldn't have had Milksy bring it here. Unless it was a test…

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, Hermione turned the page…eyes immediately drawn to the top picture on the left. _Our wedding day; pre pictures..._ Was captioned beneath a much younger Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, with a young boy standing between them. Minerva's hand lazily resting against his shoulder, while Albus' hand rested atop the boy's shoulder. Both were still wearing rather plain robes…

They had a child before they were married…Hermione thought…but at once, the boy bolted from the frame, laughing as Minerva and Albus wrapped an arm around the other.

The photo beneath contained the young boy again, and another couple beside Albus and Minerva. It wasn't until the other witch and wizard moved that Hermione realized they were Helena and Harold…the boy's smile matching Harold's, his father.

Hermione watched their easy interactions, peals of laughter…and Hermione found the beginning of a smile pulling at her lips.

Without thought, she turned the album to look at the large group photo that covered the right side of the page. Minerva and Albus stood at the center, her dress a simple…rather exotic and yet quite elegant…resembling more of a modern day muggle long flowing cocktail dress versus any traditional marriage robes or dresses. While Albus wore a surprising sleek black set of robes with muted silver stars and moons, his under tunic matching his boutonniere's deep purple color.

She matched the names beneath the photo to the faces…

To the right; Nicolas Flamel (best man), Elphias Dodge, Aberforth Dumbledore, Derrick McGonagall, Rory Wallace, Harold Harrison, Filius Flitwick, Septimus Weasley, William Dunway, and Vincent Bones. To the left; Helena Harrison (maid of honor), Pernelle Flamel, Agatha Dunway, Marlene McKinnon, Matilda Bagshot, and Cedrella Black-Weasley.

She flipped the page…and felt her jaw drop at seeing Minerva's brother, Derrick in what could only be described as a passionate embrace with Rory. Albus had obviously scratched a note beneath the picture, _This was before the whisky…_

And then Hermione's gaze dropped to the next picture and felt her cheeks burning at the image of Rory pulling Derrick's shirt out of his kilt. Minerva had made the note beneath this one, as it seemed they had taken turns. _Obviously after the whisky seal had been cracked…_

_They are worse than us…_Albus had scrawled...

And then in purple and green ink there was another remark, _Perhaps not…_followed by a _Definitely not_.

Hermione swallowed hard…turning the page, and there were a dozen wedding pictures…notes beneath each, depicting various scenes…dancing, hugs, toasts…

Their wedding lasted for several more pages, and the last one had caught the newlyweds in a deeply passionate kiss…once again turning Hermione's ears bright pink. The blue script beneath this picture not matching either Minerva's or Albus' distinct penmanship, _They make such wonderful examples of what passionate means…now get a room…_

She flipped the page again, and felt a measure of relief at the note penned in Albus' loopy purple writing.

_Percival Meric McDore ~ born April 3__rd__, 1953_

_My dearest gave birth to a beautiful son at 2:19 this morning._

A small picture had been placed beneath the note of an infant blinking up at the camera…eyes sparkling like his parents.

She flipped the handful of remaining pages…pictures of Minerva, Albus and Percival littering the pages. But as she read the caption beneath the second to the last page, she paused…eyes scanning the phrase again.

_Christmas at the Ridge._

Her eyes jumped up to the previous page…scanning the back drop of the photos, immediately realizing that those had been at Hogwarts. But the Ridge? She shrugged…turning the page, figuring it was at Derrick's as he threw a giggling Percival into the air…hovering him about the room, before gracefully catching him again…

Hermione turned the page…to find the end of the album, only a note scribbled across the back cover.

_Enjoy what I hope will become one of many albums to grace your shelves, please feel free to scribble a few notes beneath each photo – Rory and I restrained ourselves, well almost._

_Always with love,_

_Derrick & Rory_

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Harry leaned back in his chair, arm draped over the back as the children scampered up the stairs, leaving the three adults alone for the first time since Hermione's arrival.

"You look exhausted," Ginny said finishing her glass of wine.

Hermione bit back a yawn, and nodded. "Since the attack the other day at Hogwarts, we have been reconstructing the wards and I have been trying to finish my lesson plans for the first part of term."

"I would have thought you could borrow the previous professor's or even the Headmistress' ones." Harry stated, "I'm sure she had detailed lesson plans, it's not in Minerva not to be organized."

Both women chuckled at the all too true statement. "She did allow me to borrow Willard's notes, along with hers and also Dumbledore's. But after reading all three, I like different aspects of each." She shook her head, "Besides, it's not as if I can morph into a cat to mesmerize the students like Minerva did."

Harry and Ginny nodded, "That definitely impressed me."

"Me too." Ginny stated, "And then her class…" She smiled from the memory, "I'll never forget her words on my first day, that if there was any funny business that she would dismiss you from her class. I remember everyone sitting just a bit straighter, not wanting to test her…knowing that it would not bode well if you did. She just had a way about her."

"Incredibly strict, and yet, impeccably fair." Harry said. "I wonder what it's like with her as the Headmistress."

"From what Filius has stated, it is fairly similar to when Dumbledore was Headmaster."

"I can't believe she lets students get away…"

Hermione leveled her gaze at Harry, "She let you get away with a fair amount while you were there."

"I always figured that was because of Dumbledore." Harry stated thinking back.

"I don't know," Ginny said, "She always knew when we were up to something…and unless it was dangerous, or proving a point…she tended to send us to our dormitories without taking points away. She probably makes a great Headmistress."

"I think she'll be great to work for and with." Hermione stated, thinking back to her earlier conversation and brief duel.

"Have you had any time to research further into who Minerva's husband was?" Ginny asked, "I'm at another dead end."

Hermione took the opportunity to take another sip of wine, hiding her face as she thought of an answer that would not breach Minerva's olive branch of trust. "I have." She said, eyes remaining fixed to her glass. "But my research has been rather fruitless. Between lesson plans, I've been pouring over all of the old Hogwarts' albums and Daily Prophets for the past fifty years, and so far have found nothing."

"But…" Harry said, knowing his friend far too well. "You learned something."

Slowly Hermione brought her gaze up to Harry, "I did."

"And?" Ginny asked, leaning forward so much the chair was about to tip her out of it.

"And I can't tell you." Hermione said.

Harry shook his head, "What is with you?" He muttered, "First the whole thing after the Order meeting, and your conversation with Helena about Minerva. And now this!"

"I want to tell you," She snapped, "Both of you, more than you could possibly know, but…" She sighed, "I can't." She fingered her glass, debating whether to have a third glass, but after the last week it wasn't much of a decision.

"Not even a hint?" Ginny asked as Hermione filled her glass and Harry's too.

"Only that there isn't a damn shred of proof in the aforementioned texts." She muttered, "I know, I looked…" As Ginny opened her mouth, Hermione shook her head, "After I learned who."

"Then how can you be sure it's who she said?" Ginny asked, drawing a glare from both her husband and Hermione.

"I can't believe you just said that about McGonagall." Harry said, "You're typically as bad as or even worse about defending her than Hermione."

"Just want to be sure." Ginny defended.

"I'm sure." Hermione stated, "I saw photos from the wedding this afternoon, along with pictures of their first born."

"Come on, Hermione…" Harry said, "You've got to give us something."

"Minerva was very accurate in stating that all of the Order members knew or had heard of him, and he did die during the second war against Voldemort."

"Something a bit more…an initial perhaps or sets of initials…"

Hermione knew hundreds of obscure facts about Dumbledore, but to risk that either Ginny or Harry would figure out who she was referring to. "He went to Hogwarts and she met him while there."

Both their faces broke into a grin, "Do you know his graduating class?"

"You asked for a clue, don't push." They both had the good graces to look moderately guilty, "As I can't tell you. But rest assured, as soon as I can, I will let you both know, immediately."

"We'll look tomorrow after the Express." Ginny said, barely containing her glee. "Now, can you at least divulge how you happened upon this tidbit of news?"

"Minerva told me."

"Crikey." Harry muttered, as Ginny nonverbally said, _wow._ "How'd you get that out of her?"

"You both have to promise this goes no further." At their hesitancy she said, "A promise or I won't utter a word. As this can't go past this room, not to Ron, your parents, mine, the children, anyone."

Slowly both their heads nodded, "Alright, Hermione. I won't discuss this with anyone except you and Ginny."

Ginny nodded too, "Nor I, save for you and Harry."

Satisfied, Hermione gave them a brief summary of the events that had transpired over the past two weeks, regarding their duel, her conversation with Minerva, and the subsequent one from this past week.

Neither witch nor wizard knew what to say to the story just regaled to them, both too shocked and opting to switch to safer topics – the children and how they were doing with Ron, the growing friction between the Ministry and Hogwarts…namely Minerva and Kingsley, and how after last week it had reached new crescendos…

The evening drew to a close, Hermione bidding them a good night as she rustled her kids through the floo, joining them a moment later in a flash of green.

Harry and Ginny bid their children good night, and waited for the stairs to quiet before turning to each other in hushed tones.

"What could Minerva possibly want another witch or wizard to accompany her on?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged, "In a way, makes sense. We even asked that each Order member travel in pairs."

"Ginny, that's not what I mean."

"Minerva has contacts that even the Ministry doesn't have, which you said has been infuriating Shacklebolt to no end of late. And she could hear of something before anyone else hears a trickle…"

"But to ask Hermione to accompany her…"

"Minerva is not going to ask anyone to go, unless she believes they can take care of themselves. And, Hermione said, that Minerva would be working with her to improve her dueling…"

"I know…" Harry said as he pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just worry…"

"Don't, Minerva won't let anything happen to one of her former students." Ginny stated as she placed a comforting hand on Harry's chest.

"That's what I'm afraid of Ginny," Harry muttered.

Ginny frowned, "Harry, it'll be fine."

Harry put his glasses back on, blinking a few times. "There has to be a reason that Minerva asked Hermione to accompany her on these 'trips'. Much like Dumbledore began training me about Riddle…she's too proud." He reached out, pulling Ginny closer, "I have a bad feeling about this coming year, Ginny."

"Me too." She muttered into his robes. "But I truly believe that Minerva won't let anything happen to Hermione or any of the students." She said hoping to allay his fears regarding the welfare of his surrogate sister.

"But what of Minerva?" Harry asked into Ginny's hair.

"She's Minerva McGonagall," Ginny said leaning back, knowing how much Harry respected the Headmistress…and whether he would admit it to anyone, even himself, she had assumed the mother figure in his life. He had even asked her to his wedding…and asked her to sit where the mother of the groom typically would. "She knows what she's doing."

His eyes searched hers, and he sighed. "That's what we thought about Dumbledore."

"But he did…" Ginny quietly stated, "His knowledge helped you to defeat Voldemort."

"And it cost him, his life." Harry said, dropping his hands from Ginny's side and he turned away.

"She's not Dumbledore…" Ginny said, reaching up to pull him back around…and fought to keep her breath steady as saw his tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

"She and Dumbledore are diametrical opposites in almost everything," He whispered as a tear fell from his lashes, "Save one very important thing…" His voice broke as he choked at the words, "They are stoutly Gryffindor, and will sacrifice themselves for the sake of others."

"She'll be alright, Harry." Ginny whispered into his hair as she pulled him to her chest. "You'll see." She murmured, "They both will."

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

_A/N: The first full month done and the beginning of term starting :) September 8__th__ is the next day on the docket, a week into classes and training has started…_

_Hope you enjoyed – and yes…there will be an update on Friday too ;) _


	15. Chapter 14 September 8th, 2009

**Chapter 14 ~ Tuesday, September 8****th****, 2009**

"Are you sure it won't be a problem?" Harry asked.

"I believe she will be more than ready for an evening out, Harry." Minerva replied, "As she has been kept rather busy this past week with 'Wheezies' products."

A broad grin broke across his face, "I can only imagine, she hated it as a Prefect when they were testing their products in the Common Room. But to deal with the children trying to skive off class…I'm sure she's getting the hang of it."

Minerva fought back a smile, and gave Harry a nod. "Yes, though it is not as quick as she would like."

"And you, you are looking a bit tired again." He stated, concerned.

"The beginning of term is always a bit hectic." She replied, "Add in the whole situation with the Ministry, along with the additional patrols in the evenings and the constant re-warding. It is nothing more," A soft smile lighting her eyes, "Harry. Rest easy."

He measured the sincerity in her words and eyes, and felt the worry in his shoulders begin dissipating. "Well, I must admit, that you seem to have wound Kingsley to new heights two weeks ago. I meant to ask on Saturday what you said to him, as the utterance of your very name causes him to burst into a yelling spree at whoever spoke it."

A coy expression crossed her face, "We had a slight, difference…" The entire set of portraits rustled, causing Harry to turn and look at them as she finished, "of opinion."

"I'd say it was a bit more than slight." Harry remarked, glancing at Severus' portrait who in turn gave him a subtle nod.

"Yes, well, unfortunately for the Minister, I broke no laws."

Harry watched in amusement as Severus slowly raised his brow at her comment, and he turned back to Minerva. "That leaves a lot open to interpretation."

"In this instance, Harry." Her voice turning grave, "It's best that you not know, as I doubt Kingsley would take kindly to you if he found out you did."

"There's more there than you're letting on." Harry said.

"Yes, well…there is that distinct possibility." Minerva replied, "But I would suggest that you keep your head down at the Ministry until he and I are able to repair our discord."

"I am trying." He muttered, "But he knows that I am helping the Order."

"And speaking of the Order, I need you to visit Draco."

"You haven't come up with any new leads?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Eve Williams, or better known as Evelyn Carrows Williams was the witch."

"Carrows…as in Amycus and Alecto?"

"She was their sister, who had left England in the early 90's and gone to live in Iceland. She returned last fall; and stayed for a brief period at the Malfoy Manor."

"Surely Lucius wouldn't have gotten involved with Johannes…"

"We can rule nothing out, Harry."

They stared deeply into the other's eyes, Harry finally conceding. "I'll have a talk with him." He stood, pausing… as she pushed her chair back, "There is one area, though, that is a bit worrisome."

Minerva's fingers wrapped around the knub of her walking stick, as she stepped around the desk, "And that is?"

His green gaze following her momentarily unsteady gait. "My conversation with Hermione."

At once, Minerva drew to a stop, an impregnable mask of stone falling onto her face as his words sunk into her skin, chilling her entire demeanor. "I'm afraid I don't see the correlation, Harry."

It felt as if he were standing in the middle of the Arctic circle, the warmth and all of its entirety gone from her gaze. Hermione had been wise in choosing not to divulge the name of Minerva's husband, and who knew what else. Caution was paramount. "Hermione did not reveal the identity of your husband, nor would any matter of coaxing by myself or Ginny loosen her tongue." He could see Minerva's shoulder imperceptibly slacken at his statement, "However, she did tell us…under strict confidence, that neither Ginny nor I will break, about how you had asked for her to accompany you on various 'trips'. I'm sure you have your reasons, and I know not whether you told those to Hermione…but I must admit to being exceptionally concerned for both of your safety. And I wonder why you have not mentioned this at the Order meetings."

Minerva sighed, her demeanor softening as she gazed at the man before her…his caring eyes, and quiet persona. "I have not, nor will I begin discussing my personal business at the Order meetings. Unfortunately," She rested her hand upon the edge of her desk, as if to highlight what she was about to say, "I am not as young as I once was, and whether by coincidence or a confluence of events, I have come to the realization that I am at a point where I shall need assistance and I have asked Hermione if she would be willing to be that person." She paused as if searching for the right words, "And I can assure you, Harry, that I will take every precaution to ensure that Hermione remains safe."

"Of that, I have no doubt, Minerva." He quietly uttered, "And am eternally grateful for, but what of you?" His eyes searching hers, "Unless you mean not to return one day…"

Minerva met his questing green eyes, with her shrouded emerald ones. "As long as Johannes lives, I will always return."

"And when he doesn't…?" He asked, already knowing the answer, though she would never speak it…she didn't have to. It had momentarily flickered across her eyes, and his heart sunk at the notion.

There was a brief pause before her response, both occupants disbelieving her words, but one wishing they were not as hollow as he knew they were. "Then I shall enjoy time with family and friends, in peace."

Harry nodded, his words thick. "It will be a time that I look forward too."

"Me too." She whispered.

Harry leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Please, take care, Minerva." He whispered before leaning back, blinking the tears away. "And get some rest."

She reached out, running her hand along his back. "I will." She said, as they began walking towards the door. "Keep your head down."

He nodded, "Always, try." A quirk of a smile spread across his face, "But you know how that goes…"

"Yes, Ronald's friendship can have its side effects."

Harry couldn't help the chuckle from erupting from his lips, "Too true." The door opening as the steps ground to a halt. "I will let you know what I learn from Draco, and if you can keep the 19th open. We'd love for you to join us."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione watched as her third year class of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs exited, the door closing on her sigh. It had been another, _long_ day. She opened her drawer on the top left of her desk…scooping her latest set of confiscated Wheezies in to what was an already overflowing drawer.

Quiet clipping of footsteps caused her to immediately glance upwards, fixing her best professor expression onto her face, and felt a measure of relief as her eyes met the familiar ones of the Headmistress.

"I see the rumors are true," Minerva said, eyes sliding over to the brimming drawer. "That you have taken to summoning any Wheezies products at the onset of class."

"Yes, well I wanted to be able to sell George back his own product line, but if I continue at this pace, by the end of the year…I may even be able to open my own Wheezies branch."

Minerva leaned forward, "Not bad for the first week." She said appreciatively.

Hermione nodded, standing. "It's a start." She frowned, wondering why Minerva had come up to her classroom. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Minerva took a short step forward, magically conjuring a piece of parchment into her hand which she extended out to Hermione. "You may find this helpful."

Hermione reached out, eyes immediately scanning the document…and she felt a smile curling her lips. "An inventory listing…how?" She asked glancing up.

"It was a by-product of the Order's recent tournament."

"And you are giving me this, now…why?" Hermione asked.

"You are assisting me, and in doing so, you will not be able to research some areas that would ultimately make your life mildly easier. I, only ask, that does not make its way to the rest of the staff."

Hermione chuckled, "An agreement with George?"

Her lips quirked, "More of an understanding."

"Thank you."

"Quite welcome." Minerva was about to leave, but Hermione's voice stopped her.

"Does it ever slow down?"

Minerva shook her head, "No…quidditch tryouts start next week, practice…and then the holidays begin."

"At least I won't be bored." Hermione quipped.

"I'm sure our dueling will cure any boredom you may have."

"Yesterday, with Filius…" Minerva flipped her hand as if it held a wand, and the desk beside her transfigured into a chair which she easily sat in. "When dueling, he was explaining how to shorten the wand strokes and movements…lesson the energy expenditure, but how do I re-learn every spell, and is it even possible to shorten the wand movement of every spell?" Hermione had stepped around her desk, but was leaning on the edge, legs extended out.

"It's the movement of the wand, the castor's ability to perform the spell, not the large billowing arm motions that wizards and witches use as an enunciation or as part of a performance when casting."

"But when you cast spells your arms always move…"

Minerva interrupted, "Never in a duel. Primarily my spell casting is reserved, quick and contain little to no arm movement, only quick wrist action."

"When you fought Johannes…" She remembered how her wrist had flown in a series of flicks and jerks as she had pulled the coins from her robes. "The coins…"

Minerva groaned at the mention of Gringott's coins. "Let us stray from that topic."

Hermione pushed forward and ignored her comment, "When you transfigured them, how many spells had you cast before they had turned into a spool of metallic thread?"

"I believe at the end of my long life, that event may be one of my sole regrets…" Minerva mumbled.

"It was a marvelous piece of magic…" Hermione countered, "And I have no worldly notion how you broke Gringott's enchantments. But I'm guessing it was based in transfiguration."

Minerva couldn't help a smile from breaking across her face at Hermione's amused expression, and if she were being honest with herself…it had been a hell of piece of magic. She had surprised herself at being able to disentangle the complex set of enchantments that resonated in the very fabric of the galleons, sickles, and knuts. "I concede…" She said, recalling the long conversation with Griphook and the safety and sanctity of the financial world. "It was." Minerva shook her head, knowing that she shouldn't be sharing it with Hermione…but…what good was a great piece of magic, if you couldn't share it? Seeing Hermione's expression she elaborated her answer, "Both a great piece of magic, and based upon transfiguration…eighteen spells to be precise."

"Eighteen?" She thought back, "I only saw three, maybe four before you were blocking his spell with a protego charm."

"Every flick of my wrist and or dip of my fingers was a spell."

"Eighteen…no wonder why it fell to his feet…" She said, finally realizing that it wasn't as though Minerva had become tired or distracted, but to break the enchantments, she had already cast 18 spells…and had merely run out of time. "And after, with Griphook. How did you convince him that you hadn't transfigured them?"

"I never did anything of the sort." She said, "As a matter of truth, it was quite the opposite."

"You mean you showed him?" Hermione asked, astonished. "Your press release with Griphook, you stated that you did not use their coin. And Bill had said they were working to verify the enchantments…"

"As with most things, Hermione. It is about perception. He cannot have the wizarding world believe that their money is not safe, and as a Master in Transfiguration, I cannot have people take up the art based upon the belief they will be able to break Gringott's enchantments. And neither of us want the ministry to mettle in our affairs, we have a long history and a mutual understanding."

"I…what was his response, when you told him?" Hermione could only imagine…

Minerva shook her head, "He knew well before I had an opportunity to speak with him…"

_Tiredly, Minerva ran a hand along her cheek, pushing the loose hairs from her face. "Griphook, I thank you for coming here…"_

_"Quite a display today in the Alley." His low voice said, breaking across her chambers. "But, Gringott's coins, Minerva." He frowned, shaking his head. "That was quite a risk, even for you." Both goblin and witch sitting opposite of the other, faint birds chirping along the breeze wafting through the open windows as the waning light streaked across the sky._

_"Johannes returned…" She said, feeling the elixir from earlier beginning to wane as she leaned backwards._

_They both shared a knowing look, "Were you able to put our pasts to rest?"_

"_I tried." She replied, "But I was in the middle of Diagon Alley."_

_He nodded, she would not willingly place others at risk. "I understand." Came his stalwart reply._

"_Have you spoken with the Minister?" She asked, absently rubbing her right temple._

"_I have deferred all calls to Myschek, until I spoke with you." He said, leaning forward._

"_Officially, I was using coins purchased at the Weasley's Wheezies." She replied, "But I am sure the Minister will seek proof from you."_

"_Will you be able to procure some coins from Mr. George Weasley?"_

"_Yes." A faint smile spread across her thin lips, "Or at the very least, I'll have transfigured some prior to tomorrow morning."_

"_Very well." He said, pushing himself off the furniture, his feet striking the floor. "Dare I ask, was it more than when I asked you to verify the enchantments ten years ago?"_

"_Up two, totaling eighteen."_

"_In under twenty seconds?" Verifying the time enchantment remained valid._

_She gave a nod, "Perhaps, fifteen."_

"_They are safe then?"_

"_You needn't worry, I barely undid the enchantments. They are very thorough."_

_He nodded a sparkle in his black eyes. "Good."_

"_I'm sorry, dear friend." She said as he picked up a handful of floo powder. "For the trouble with the Ministry."_

"_They are fools, as are most wizarding folk." He gripped, "We shall be fine."_

"_Good evening, Griphook."_

"_And to you." He was about to throw the powder into the smoldering flames, but stopped, turning his head to the side. "It had to have been a nice piece of wand work, Minerva. There are over thirty-two enchantments interwoven."_

"_Yes, and…" Minerva met his black-eyed gaze with her emerald one, "They are remarkably complex, a testament to your race."_

_A low, deep rumbling laugh burst from his lips, "A witch after my own heart." He dipped his head, "You are truly one of a kind, Minerva. Goodnight." He threw his handful of floo power into the grate and at once stepped through._

"…and was understanding." Minerva finished.

"And he has begun to reset the enchantments in lieu of your duel and subsequent conversation."

Minerva pushed herself out of the chair, "No."

"But Gringott's…"

"Is secure, Hermione. I have no use to tamper with our financial system, and there is only one other in the field whom now possesses the theoretical knowledge that it is even possible."

"Who?" She asked, more curious than ever as Minerva altered the chair back into a desk.

"Now…You." Her walking stick beginning to clink as she strode across the room, "Filius will be working with you again tonight." She said as the door swung open, "Remember, small, short arm motions." She turned back to look at Hermione, "Perhaps ask Filius to bind your arms…"

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Minerva sighed as the iron gates slowly latched behind her. She hadn't planned on being this late, but she and Helena had been talking…commemorating, and then Harold had come home. It turned into a late dessert, a bottle of port…but for the first time in weeks, she was feeling marginally relaxed. Lifting her eyes to the castle, she immediately noticed a set of lights still on in her old rooms, even though it was half past one. A quiet pop resounded next to her, and she was staring at two large luminous yellow eyes blinking up at her.

"You'se late."

"Yes, well, Helena does like to talk." She replied as Elgin stretched out his hand.

"Yes…but's she's asked…" He began mumbling and Minerva chuckled at his half coherent words. "No…magick…apparate…please…really appreciate…"

"I will speak with her." Minerva interrupted, drawing another huff from Elgin.

"You'se…needs to get rest. Elgin will speaks with Blonde's." He muttered placing his hand upon her arm.

"Please to Professor Granger's rooms, I shall make my way back to my chambers from there."

He furrowed his brow, but at seeing her expression he knew better than to ask. It had after all taken a miracle for her to concede to Blonde's and allow him to apparate her throughout Hogwarts in the evenings. "Very well, Mistress Minerva."

At once, the world shifted and she was standing alone outside of Hermione's quarters. "Godric." She quietly uttered, and at once the painting snapped awake.

"Minerva." A deep frown lined his face, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, though please allow me access."

At once the portrait clicked open, and Minerva gently pushed it aside. "Thank you." She whispered as she walked past, the painting quietly closing behind her.

The fire was waning, the soft light casting a series of shadows throughout the room…her eyes immediately drawn to the desk, and the slumbering witch behind it. Her hair was sprawled atop the papers, quill resting along her forearm, head resting on her left arm…

Minerva transfigured her walking stick back into her wand, wincing as she placed more weight on her leg as she quietly stepped forward. She raised her wand, about to transfigure the desk and chair into a bed, knowing how awful a day was after spending a night sleeping on a desk, but stopped…the spell resting momentarily on her lips. Her eyes were drawn to the breathtaking lines of the young witch, the way the firelight danced across her face…her hair, and as a sigh left Hermione's lips, Minerva felt her own gaze follow the gentle sound.

Shaking her head, Minerva quietly uttered the spell and with a flick of her wrist, the students' papers jumped forward and the desk and chair morphed into a large bed, Hermione's body sinking into the mattress.

Minerva flicked her wand a handful more times…conjuring a chair, setting Hermione's now folded outer robes upon it, transfiguring her inner robes into something a bit more comfortable…

"Milksy." She whispered, and almost immediately the light skinned elf appeared next to her.

"Please provide a cover and pillow for Hermione." She said fingers grasping the papers as she limped from the room, the door obediently swinging open and no sooner had she stepped into the corridor her distinct clip clop noise could be heard echoing down the hall.

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Hermione stretched, feeling her muscles pull…perhaps from dueling…but that wouldn't explain the ache in her back, across her shoulders. She idly wondered blinking an eye open to a bright streaming light, at once, she raised her hand, sheltering her eyes…as she quickly glanced around the room. She was in her study…on a bed?

Why was she here, and not in her…rooms? She threw the light weight covers off her, noticing she was lying in just her inner robes…her outer ones, lying folded neatly on a chair drawn next the bed with a note folded on top, and her papers beneath.

Hermione glanced at the papers; noticing that they had in fact been graded, green ink and remarks scratched liberally across several parchments in very distinct handwriting. Hermione set the papers beside her, and opened the note.

_Hermione ~_

_Filius told me you did well last eve, but please remember it takes practice and will not be learned overnight._

_And in the future, I would suggest going to sleep in your room and not your study. Desks do not make comfortable beds._

_ Minerva_

Hermione stared at the note for a solid minute after reading it, Minerva had been in here? When...? Last night…obviously. Probably when she returned to Hogwarts…

Well that explained what had happened to her furniture, and how it had transfigured.

But, why would she have come up here? She wondered as she stood up and walked through the study, into the common room and then her private rooms. Why not just wake her up? She thought, casting a glance at clock, it was already six-thirty. Breakfast would begin in half an hour, she thought as she rotated her neck and felt it pop twice before striding towards her wardrobe.

Her hand was stretching towards the handle, but she stopped upon seeing the beautiful silk gown now resting upon her body. She hadn't given much thought to her current attire, the color, midnight blue, had matched her inner robes…and she had believed, albeit mistakenly, that she was still in them.

But as she stood in front of the mirror…

Thin straps draped across her shoulders, the neckline a low v…two slits broke the lines of the fabric across her thighs…and an imperceptible design swept down her sides in the black fabric from her robes, appearing to be Celtic in origin.

…she felt very…feminine and mildly embarrassed to think that Minerva McGonagall had transfigured what she was now wearing…

After another moment, she could still feel the warmth in her cheeks…as she pulled the small brass handle, _I'm sure she just transfigured my robes…didn't even put much thought into them…_and reached in to grab a fresh set of robes, an errant thought wondering what type of clothing Minerva would or rather could transfigure with some thought…

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Hermione finished the last of her juice, "I will see you at lunch." She said to Sinistra as she stood.

Sinistra gave her a curt nod, "Thanks for the summoning idea."

Hermione patted the Astronomy professor on the shoulder after she slid her chair in. "It should help make a difference." And with that…she began to exit to the left of the staff table.

"First year Gryffindor and Slytherins this morning." Minerva said falling into step beside her.

"Ahh…Headmistress." Hermione bobbled, "Good morning."

Minerva quirked her brow, "Are you alright this morning, Professor?"

"Quite," She replied, her thoughts still in turmoil from waking up to find her study transfigured, along with her robes. In truth, it dealt more with her robes…and the stray errant thoughts that had swept through her mind regarding Minerva. And that she had transfigured it on purpose…but she knew that wasn't the case. Didn't she? Damn Sirius and his foolish comments, she swore to herself…eyes blinking and staring into an emerald pool…

"Hermione?" Minerva asked, stepping closer. "Are you feeling ill? Do you need to see Poppy?"

"Huh?" The words, see Poppy, quickly brought her thoughts back to the present. "I'm fine." Hermione said, shaking her head. "Sorry, fine. Thank you for grading the papers…Just got a few things…" She began walking away, "To finish up…before class."

Minerva watched as Hermione vanished around the corner, Filius drawing up beside the Headmistress. "Is it me, or did Hermione not seem quite herself this morning?" Minerva asked, eyes staring absently down the corridor as she replayed the strange conversation from moments before.

"Second week and only the fourth class with the first years; add to the fact it is

Gryffindor and Slytherins." Filius shuddered at the notion, "I'm sure that is all."

Minerva turned her Deputy, "Perhaps." She replied concerned for the younger woman. It seemed her birthday, and an evening away from the castle with her friends could come none too soon.

"How's Helena?" He inquired beginning to amble to the eastern stairs.

"Well…as was my check." She stated preemptively.

Filius almost squealed in delight at the news, this was the first time in the past month Minerva had not lost some ground. "That is excellent, simply excellent news."

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_A/N: Next Friday we will be skipping quite a few days and catch back up to our characters on September 19__th__ ~ Hermione's birthday as the bulk of September will be at the back end of the month. Hope you enjoyed! _


	16. Chapter 15 September 19th, 2009

**Chapter 15 ~ Saturday, September 19****th****, 2009**

Minerva rolled over, eyes blinking…as her hand reached for her spectacles and she found the world had snapped into focus, without her glasses. "Damn." She muttered sitting up, her _problem_ was early by two days…creating several other problems. She had already discreetly cleared her schedules in the evening from Sunday through Wednesday morning…now…

She flipped her covers off, bemoaning how ill-timed this was, as she allowed her night shift to fall from her shoulders as she stepped into her shower, in what would undoubtedly be the last semi-warm one for at least the next two days.

The tepid water pulsed against her skin, her thoughts already on what was scheduled for today…and she felt herself cringe, "Hermione's 30th, birthday." She murmured against the water droplets. _Why did it have to be today?_

Absently Minerva washed her body, the scent of vanilla wafting through the air, before being mixed with mountain grown lavender shampoo. She wrapped her hair, grabbing her robe, and ambling into her living suite. Elgin already waiting, parchment contained within his weathered fingers.

"You'se feeling well?" He asked, frowning at her attire or rather lack there of.

"I'll be needing my alternate pair of glasses today." She stated, her crisp walk bringing her to Elgin within six long strides. "Anything of note?" She asked, eyes raking over the document.

"The kitchen hads a fire last eve."

At once Minerva glanced up, "Was anyone hurt?"

Elgin shook his wobbly ears, "No's. But we's be needing a new row of ovens."

Minerva sighed and returned to the document in hand, "Was this wear induced?"

"With helps from Winky." He replied, "She's be expelled…"

"No," She placed her thumb upon the bottom of the page to hold her place, "We've been nursing the convection ovens for near a decade. I'll place the order today, along with the food order for the next two weeks."

"Very well." He stated pleased, as usual, with how the Mistress handled mishaps.

She finished reading the parchment; she needed to speak with all the Heads of Houses regarding how late the children were remaining awake in the common rooms. "I'll be spending the bulk of the next two days in my office or my rooms." She banished the paper, "And I'll be eating my dinner in my rooms for the next three evenings."

He gave a nod, "Of course, Mistress. Anything else?"

A gust of wind swept through her room, the underlying coolness calming her clammy skin. Fall was coming, she thought turning her head ever so much…the thick scent of musk lacing the air. "If you could, when bringing my glasses, a cup of coffee would be wonderful. Thank you, Elgin."

Elgin felt his heart lift at his Mistress, as she seemed better today. Less tired…and more alert, and as she turned away, he confirmed that her limp had vanished too. _Yes,_ he thought, _she's might not likes these times…but it was nice to see her feeling more likes hers old self._ And with a pop, he returned to his private rooms to retrieve the Mistress' glasses that were not her real glasses.

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Hermione pulled her robes a bit tighter around her arms, the wind was a bit cutting despite the warm sun, her eyes following the twists and turns of the Gryffindor quidditch team. Today was the final tryout for the chaser position, the only opening on the team this year.

She watched as Philip Pykes, a third year, pulled out of a steep dive…she had never even thought about the duties that involved quidditch as the Head of Gryffindor house. And had been rather surprised to find out that she was required to attend the first half dozen practices…not including tryouts, which were also mandatory for the Head of House to be in attendance.

This past Monday had been the first tryout, prior to starting, William Oakes, a sixth year and team's captain, had informed the perspective chasers he would not choose the new Gryffindor teammate based off of one performance, and there would be a second tryout. Unfortunately, today was the only other day the pitch had been available around class schedules and the other House tryouts.

Samantha Meaur, a second year, swept between both bludgers in daring move to intercept the quaffle…her blond hair streaming behind her as she bolted to the goals, the other players in tow. Hermione watched as Samantha cut around the keeper, the quaffle easily soaring through the hoop…and knew by the appreciative look on William's face, that a decision had been made. Philip was excellent, a natural, on a broom, but he didn't have the stomach to head straight into a swarm of bludgers to retrieve the quaffle. Amanda…had the passing skills, but turning green at 40 meters was not the trait of a gifted quidditch player. After watching the players a second day, she could easily understand his decision – Samantha Meaur. Hermione had heard of her mother, Jordan Meaur, a noted dessert chef and sought after magical caterer. She believed that a Matthew Meaur worked in the Ministry – Auror department.

Hermione's eyes gravitated to the young woman, the lines of her face seemed extremely familiar as Samantha focused in on her goal. She probably just resembles an acquaintance from the Ministry, Hermione thought to herself.

Another gust of wind swept down the pitch, Hermione pulling her arms tighter across her chest, fingers burying deeper into the arms of her robes…she'd have to remember to wear thicker robes or cast a warming charm on each layer of clothing before leaving the castle. Speaking of clothing, she needed to decide what to wear to Harry and Ginny's this evening.

When she had asked earlier if they were going anywhere, both had been extremely vague, but assured her that she needn't dress formal. As the team began gliding to a stop on the pitch, Hermione stood...probably just a pair of jeans and sweater, she thought as she transfigured her chair back into the grass, after all…it would be lovely to not have to be wearing robes for an evening.

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Minerva stretched her front legs out, before pulling her back ones up and repositioning herself as her cat eyes blinked and watched the whirling figures far up in the sky above her. She had taken the time throughout the week to watch each of the other house teams, and purposefully waited to watch her cubs last. Today was the final tryout for Gryffindor, and despite how she was feeling…she had trotted down to the far edge of the pitch to see how _her_ team was doing, and what their chances were of capturing the quidditch cup this year.

So far, the Gryffindors' were looking promising, and from the expression on William's face…he had found his new chaser – Helena's granddaughter, Samantha. She would wait until it was official before notifying the family, however, she knew that Harold would be thrilled. Helena, on the other hand, would feign indifference to the news but show her support for Samantha _after_ she had repeatedly expressed to Minerva all the ways her granddaughter could be injured in a quidditch game. In her most recent rationalizing, Helena had proposed restricting quidditch to all those under the age of 17. It took Minerva and Harold 3 hours of intense debate and a bottle of port to get Helena to promise not to draft a formal letter to the Ministry stating exactly that.

A flurry of activity heading toward the pitch indicated that they were bringing the tryout to a close and her eyes immediately noticed a figure standing on the far side of the pitch. The wind was blowing to the north, against her back, and she had not noticed the person sitting next to the polls by the bleacher section.

With the sun silhouetting her figure, Minerva could easily discern the person's identity as Professor Granger. She watched as Hermione waved her wand and the chair she had been sitting in vanished, returning to mere stalks of grass, before gracefully beginning to walk back up to the castle.

She had not had the opportunity to see or speak with Hermione since last week, between the Order meeting, the first of the year correspondence, two meetings that had lasted an entire day at the Ministry, her weekly faculty meeting and planning for the Heads of House meeting next week. She had only been able to make one of the last four dueling trainings too, and while working with Hermione, she had noticed that their interactions had been brief…bordering on abrupt.

With a casual yawn, she stretched her long body and then sprung forward. In under a minute, she was trotting beside the younger witch and it took Hermione another handful of moments to notice the cat alongside.

"Good day, Headmistress." Hermione said, mildly surprised at Minerva's sudden appearance by her side. At times, she wondered if the woman was an apparition, in how she was everywhere and nowhere all at once. Much like Dumbledore, she thought, it must be a required characteristic to become the Head of Hogwarts.

At once Minerva morphed, her brow arching as she took in the other witch's face and overall demeanor. "And to you, Professor."

Hermione pushed her anxiety aside, it was foolish really. So what, she had transfigured her study…her robes, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Minerva would have done it for anyone…and perhaps that was where Hermione's own consternation was being derived from – she didn't want to be _just_ anyone to Minerva. She _wanted_ to be a friend, a confidante…someone Minerva could trust, count on. "I'm surprised to see you out here this afternoon."

Both women fell into step beside the other as Minerva responded. "And why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just…I didn't think you would show any aspect of favoritism as the Headmistress."

"As I have watched one practice from each of the other House teams, why would I not do the same for Gryffindor?" She said, a reserved smile tugging at her lips.

"Ahh…" Hermione forced her face to remain neutral, "So you cheer equally for all the teams."

"Equally, yes." Her voice dropped conspiratorially, "But I'm sure you will find a much happier Headmistress at the end of term were Gryffindor to win."

Hermione could no longer keep the smile from breaking across her face, "I have no doubt."

"Yes, well…" She was about to say that was several months away, and that if they lost there was always next year. But the words didn't want to come, and with sheer determination she forced them from her throat. "There is always next year."

Hermione cast Minerva a sidelong glance at the sudden disparity in her tone, gone was the teasing almost playful tenor, it had been replaced with a sense of…loss. "My hopes are positive, from what I have seen so far…I think we may have a chance at the cup."

Minerva nodded, forcing her mind back to happier thoughts. "That is most welcome news." She paused and felt the tingling in her back, the scent of almond and she immediately diverted her attention and the topic. "I have heard that it is your thirtieth birthday, today."

"I'm sure." She replied, "Harry said he had spoken with you already, and that I would…that it's okay too…"

Minerva turned to Hermione, both women drawing to a stop in front of the large oak entry doors as they faced each other. "First, I have no problem for any of the staff to leave in the evening as long as their responsibilities are taken care of. As a Head of House, you merely need to ask another professor to ensure your 'cubs' are taken care of in your stead. Harry spoke with me early last week, and Pomona has already consented. Second…" Eyes narrowed behind the octagonal glasses as she stared deeply into the chocolate brown gaze. "You have taken to stammering and…"

At this Hermione immediately interrupted, "I know." She said, "And I apologize." She motioned for them to continue walking, along the outside of the castle, toward the eastern staff entrance. "It's just…"

Minerva felt herself want to glance towards the younger witch, to see her face…the cut of her hair as it draped along her cheek. But she stiffened her resolve, keeping her eyes focused…and ahead of her.

"A lot has changed over the past several weeks, and…" She sighed, "How do you deal with it all? Everyday, changing…"

Despite the lack of students' voices, Minerva's voice barely graced Hermione's ears. "I used to share it with Albus, we'd talk over a game of chess, a glass of wine, dinner…now," She paused, "I have learned how to find balance within myself."

Hermione absently nodded at Minerva's comment, as she realized how unknowingly accurate the Headmistress' words were. "I guess that's it," She said aloud, turning to the regal looking woman beside her. "I'm trying to find a balance, and it's just been difficult."

Minerva met Hermione's gaze…and for just the briefest of moments, she wondered how dark those brown eyes would become if _laden_ with desire, swallowing hard…Minerva brought her mind back to the conversation at hand, and not her own problems. Problems…that her body would love to satisfy. "Do we need to scale back your dueling?"

Hermione shook her head, "No…that's not the balance I'm referring too." She said, eyes darting downward as if in shame. "Hogwarts is fine, it's just me…" Minerva waited, patiently for Hermione to finish. Slowly…painstakingly, Hermione cleared her throat. "It became obvious after the kids visit last weekend, I only see them every two weeks…and this is the first time since Ron and I…well, I don't have the kids most evenings…and at night I actually have time to myself, and it's just…different."

Minerva understood. Hermione was alone for probably the first time in years, and it was an adjustment when you were used to living with someone or having children who demanded a large portion of time. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but it _will_ get easier." Minerva said reaching out, hand coming up and gently brushing along Hermione's chin, slowly raising it…and she fought against the overwhelming impulse of her animagus need to just lean forward and cover those full lips with her own, her eyes meeting Hermione's watery ones. "It's just going to take some time." She quietly whispered, no longer trusting her voice.

Hermione flexed her jaw, tightening her lips as she focused on the emerald gaze, and not the tender feeling of Minerva's fingers as they slipped almost caressingly from her face. "To form some new habits…perhaps some research…" She said voice trailing off.

Minerva nodded, "Whatever you do, make it something you enjoy, and of course, spending time with your friends – I believe the Potters would love to see you more."

"Yes…" She replied, "Chess…" She muttered aloud.

"I'm sorry." Minerva asked, "What?"

Hermione shook her head as if negating the thought, but something caused her to give it credence and lend it voice. "Ginny and I have started playing chess against Harry."

"I was under the perception that you did not enjoy chess." Minerva stated.

"Against Ron, you are right. He's insufferable, gloats, and he will only play wizard's chess – but a few years back, we were joking around one night with Harry and played him. It was fun, and we try to play whenever the kids aren't looming and have a bit of time to spare."

"Then perhaps, one evening, you would grace me with a game of chess." Minerva's eyes sparkling in the light.

Hermione's hair brushed her shoulders as she gently shook her head, "No, I wouldn't even be worthy of setting up the board against you."

"We all have to start somewhere," Minerva said trying to remain focused. "Besides, I have yet to find a new chess partner in some years, and it would do well to at least dust the pieces off."

"Minerva…" Hermione began, but Minerva just reached out her arm and squeezed Hermione's upper arm as she walked by.

"Have a happy birthday…Hermione." She whispered, her words hanging in the air as her soft footsteps melted away, leaving Hermione alone…and lighter than she had felt in weeks.

Oxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Filius pushed his chair back, stretching as he stood. "Do you think the Governors even look at these reports?"

Minerva chuckled, pooling the parchments together. "Come now Filius, you know they look at them…"

"At the bottom figure…" He muttered. "However they could care less how the money is allocated."

"Be thankful, or we'd be defending everything from our pay to how much we spend for feathers."

He nodded, "Too true. Is there anything else…?" His head cocked at angle to meet her gaze.

"I'll finish up." She stated while pulling a piece of blank parchment out of her drawer and placing it on top of the stack before scooping all of the papers into her arms. "Enjoy the rest of your evening." She said, stepping around her desk.

"Are you sure you won't be attending Hermione's celebration?" He asked, still rather surprised that she would be remaining at the castle.

"I am quite sure." She stated, feeling a trickle of sweat run down her back. "As I stated earlier, please go. Enjoy yourself. I'll watch Hogwarts."

"And you are feeling alright?" He asked, still disturbed by the notion that Minerva would not be going to her protégé's birthday and grasp the opportunity to visit the Potter's and see all of the children.

"I am fine, Filius." She said with a quaint smile, "Just tired. And as of late, I have found myself dozing off a bit after 9, and unless needed, it is better if I don't push." Filius finally nodded in understanding, "So please, go, and enjoy yourself." She said turning and within a heartbeat, the heels of her boots were already clanging against the bronze steps.

"Do you have anything you wish to send?" He asked and she paused, fingers wrapped around the banister.

"I had Elgin deliver my gift just a bit ago when I realized that it would be best for me not to attend, however, thank you, dear."

"Please get some rest, and I shall see you in the morning." He stated.

"Have fun." She called out before the door to her rooms clicked, leaving him looking up the stairs to where she had been moments before.

With a sigh, Filius cast a glance to the windows and noticed that the day had somehow become night. The moon's soft beams streaming through the glass and onto the weathered stone walls. He had not expected for Minerva to be the one to remain at Hogwarts, figuring that she would at least attend the party for an hour…perhaps even longer. However, he was also thankful that she had chosen to remain at Hogwarts and rest.

The last thing he wanted was for her to tax her body and expedite what she had called, _the inevitable_. Quite the opposite, and if she needed a bit of rest, he would ensure she would receive it. He just hoped, that she would continue to maintain a balance between what was best for her health and also for her mentally, because even though she was dying…she wasn't dead and she needed to live.

At once, his eyes sought the enigmatic clock above the archway leading into her private rooms. When he had first started, he had always believed the clock was a representation of Albus and Minerva. Two parts of a whole; the green equating Minerva; the blue – Albus.

For the first several years of his teaching career, the clock used to be split; half emerald and half blue…similar to the Japanese pattern of a yin and yang with two dots in both halves of the other color. Then one day just before the start of term before the fall of Voldemort for the first time, he had noticed a shift…the dots in both halves were no longer the other color, but of alabaster. It wasn't until much later, he associated the color with a person…

Then thirteen years ago Albus had been killed, and he remembered walking into the Headmaster's office…and seeing the clock. It had been a welcome sight and one he had not expected to see believing it had been a personal affect from the previous Headmaster. He realized that it must be part of a tool for Hogwarts or the Headmaster to know who controlled the wards or was a physical representation of the Heads of Hogwarts.

The colors, though, had dramatically shifted, the brilliant emerald color had remained, but the other half had become alabaster and the dots within both were now midnight blue. His heart soaring at seeing the familiar emerald green, knowing that Minerva was still part of Hogwarts…steadfast. He had feared that she had actually gone through with the bonding years prior…and that she would be slipping into the next world and no longer be among the living. But the alabaster…the other half of Hogwarts, would have to be Severus. And as he listened to the younger wizard drawl about priorities, he remembered that Severus had begun teaching the year the alabaster had appeared as the specks in the clock. What he couldn't account for was the specks of azure blue that now pulsed in the green and alabaster.

When Minerva had become the Headmistress, he remembered glancing to the mysterious clock…expecting to see a new pattern of color emerge, but it had remained the same as before, and Filius had been utterly baffled. Severus had died and yet the alabaster had remained. To further complicate matters, over the past twelve years, he had noticed that the emerald had slowly been fading away, and the alabaster now covered close to two-thirds of the face…minus the two small specks of blue.

After this summer, and the knowledge garnered that Minerva was slowly dying, and the correlating knowledge that Minerva and Albus had actually become bound years prior; he was convinced more than ever that the clock was a visual representation of Minerva and Albus' bonding or rather love.

Minerva hadn't told him how she had survived Albus' death. Only that she had, or rather..._I have temporarily forestalled the inevitable outcome..._

Since that evening, he had spent many countless hours researching the effects of bonding and the death of a partner who is bound. The effect was immediate, or relatively so. Most wizards or witches died almost instantly, there were a few recorded instances where the partner survived for a few days, the longest being five. In each of these instances, the partner had dissolved their half of the bond at the onset of death…

The emerald still represented Minerva…the specks of blue her bond still to Albus. The bond that was slowly killing her…shredding her magic, her life…day by day; and then there was the alabaster color.

His eyes followed the spiraling motion, remaining with the alabaster, and he knew somehow that was the key. Now…all he had to do was determine what the alabaster equated to, and quickly –

Minerva's life was rapidly running out.

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A rather tipsy George leaned over, arm wrapping around Hermione's shoulders. "So, now that you're a free woman…" He said, voice dropping beneath the ambient noise, "Have you any thoughts?"

"I haven't given it too much thought, no." She said, head turning to see his warm smile. "Why…" She could see the mischief in his eyes, "What are you planning?"

"Well," He scooped her up as he stood, forcing her to stand. "Ginny and Harry mentioned…"

Hermione felt her stomach plummet, surely they didn't mention Sirius' comment about Minerva – they wouldn't? Would they? And what on earth would George do? Would Minerva go along with it? What would she think? What would it do to their already fragile newly realigned friendship? It took every ounce of self control for Hermione to walk beside George in a calm and collected manner and not flee the other way.

"That there was a friend…I believe…"

Hermione could feel her world on the verge of tumbling in around her…

"Ian, was his name." George said stopping by the door, hand reaching out. "So, I took the liberty of inviting him, over." The door swung open to reveal Ian McGregor in a deep cut tan top and a tartan kilt, the pattern holding more blue and red than Minerva's, she idly noticed as a wave of relief swept through her that Minerva McGonagall was not on the other side of the door.

"Hermione." Ian greeted a smile on his face as he leaned forward and gently kiss her on the cheek. "I heard there was a celebration here in your honor this evening."

"Ian." She replied, "It's been some time."

"Aye, it has." He said, entering Harry and Ginny's rapidly filling house.

The hours passed, drinks flowed…visitors were still cramming themselves into the house at the end of Godric's Hollow-. Hermione had seen friends from Hogwarts, the Auror department, magical law enforcement, several members of the Order, even some of the Professor's from Hogwarts…

"May I say, Happy Birthday, Hermione." Filius' distinct voice cut through her thoughts.

"Filius," Hermione bent down, giving him a gentle kiss. "What a pleasant surprise. Thank you for coming, was Pomona…"

At that moment, she felt a warm arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into a deep hug. "Happy Birthday." Pomona said as she released the younger witch.

"How wonderful!" Hermione said as her brain processed the information of the two professors standing in front of her. Pomona was supposed to be watching her students, "I thought, who is watching…"

The smile on their faces got larger, if possible, at Hermione's obvious care for the students. "Relax, Minerva is at Hogwarts." Filius replied, taking a sip from his tumbler. "She is checking on all the Houses, as she gave Marx off too."

At that moment, Marx Hesch, the Head of Slytherin House, and the Professor of Arthimancy stepped around Pomona and bowed before her. "Hermione." His deep voice a stark contrast to Filius', much like their personalities and characteristics. Marx was a willowy, tall man who stretched well past six foot five, eyes were an icy blue, hair matching the whiteness of his albino skin and his quiet demeanor a welcome reprieve to the noise of the room.

"Marx." She leaned in, balancing on the tips of her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for coming."

"Yes…well." He stepped back, obviously touched by the gesture, "It seems as though young Mr. Potter has invited most of the wizarding world."

Hermione shrugged, "I'm not one for large affairs, but it is nice to have something positive to celebrate…even if it is at my expense."

Filius, Pomona, and Marx all smiled at Hermione's words, "Nonsense, dear." Pomona said, a light shining in her warm eyes. "That will be tomorrow, as I'm sure the Prophet is going to run an article that the first of the 'golden trio' has turned thirty."

Hermione groaned, "Thank you for the ill reminder of what I shall have to look forward to tomorrow."

Marx raised his glass, "That and a bit of hangover to go along with a stack of essays to grade."

Filius and Pomona raised their glasses too as Filius spoke. "And to Poppy and her unending supply of headache potion."

Hermione chuckled, clinking their glasses together. "I'll drink to that." She said, in good cheer…

Pomona smiled, "We have opted to give you a rather unique gift, but we hope it is one you will enjoy."

Hermione didn't really know what to say to the other three Heads of Houses, she had not expected a gift from her peers. "You needn't have…"

Filius waved his hand, "It is a bit of an unorthodox gift, Hermione. But as it is your first year at Hogwarts, and we know what it is like to try and balance family amidst the responsibilities of the school. So, we decided that each one of us will take over your duties as Head of House for the first weekend for the next three months."

"Wow." Hermione said a grin splitting her face in two, "That's wonderful. Thank you." She leaned over and gave Filius a light peck on his cheek, and pulled Pomona and Marx into a hug. "Thank you." She reiterated, "You didn't have to…I mean, I know how crazy things are and to add my House duties on top of it…"

"It does get remarkably easier, dear. Especially once you develop your own routine." Pomona said, "And Minerva makes the administrative end completely effortless…"

"Perhaps for you…" Filius said giving his wife a subtle glare, "Actually," Filius turned to Hermione, "She really does have Hogwarts running to the point that if I didn't know better I would believe she had it on automation."

"Although, mildly frustrating at times, she is the epitome of equity." Marx stated, "Even to Slytherin."

"I do believe you said something nice about a member from your rival house." Pomona said, chuckling.

"Yes, but we have won the House Cup the past two years." Marx rebutted. "And if I'm not mistaken, Gryffindor hasn't won the cup in close to a decade, making it remarkably easier to feel generosity towards your rival House."

Filius nodded and felt his stomach lurch at the notion that if Minerva's cubs didn't win this coming year, the odds were against her surviving to the next. "They haven't won since…" He turned to Hermione, "Your class graduated."

Hermione feigned a smile, recalling her brief conversation with Minerva regarding the House Cup. She had no idea it had been twelve years since Gryffindor had captured the cup, nor would she have guessed it had been that long from Minerva's comment. "As the Head of Gryffindor, I will admit to being partial to my…" Her mouth paused around the following word, as it sounded quite odd spilling from her lips. "Cubs." She didn't feel old enough amongst the abnormality that her mind still registered Gryffindor and all that encompassed it to the name Minerva McGonagall; which was something she still had yet rectified in her mind. "And I believe that this coming year, we will finally recapture the House Cup."

"Commendable, however, my team is returning in its entirety." Confidence dripping from Marx's words.

A smile stretched across Hermione's face, "True. But…" She raised her glass, along with her voice and bellowed out. "To Gryffindor!" At once well over sixty percent of the occupants in the house responded, in kind with a resounding, "To Gryffindor!"

Pomona and Filius roared in laughter at Marx's incredulous expression as another raucous cheer swept through the Potter's home, "Gryffindor!"

"You'll forgive me, Marx." Hermione said, pleased with the sporadic cheers of Gryffindor. "As most of the attending guests do have an affinity for Gryffindor over Slytherin."

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

George's rich laugh echoed through the room, "No, Hermione." His eyes trailing the birthday witch's form. "It won't work."

The packed room joined in George's laughter, Hermione finally turning to the red haired wizard. "You know George, I will get you back."

"I have no doubt." He said, "But, it won't be tonight."

She raised her eyebrow, and before a soul could blink her wand was resting within her hand. "Are you sure?"

"Do what you will," He said, puffing up his chest, "But you still have to perform the birthday task. Three kisses. As I said, one for every ten years."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and finally her shoulders relaxed, wand arm starting to drop…and George started nodding, a smile erupting onto his face. Hermione's response was immediate and with two deft flicks and whispered spell, George's body morphed into a weasel. "You bloody dolt. It doesn't mean that you'll get to watch." She snapped.

The only reason Harry didn't fall over in laughter was that half of his body was draped over Ginny who was leaning against the wall for support. Between their laughter and the alcohol several persons were staggering to remain upright as George quickly darted away from a series of half-hearted spells cast by Hermione.

Momentarily lost in the throng of persons, Hermione turned back to the miniature chalice floating in the air. "Alright." She said, clearing her throat. "I'll only say I'm sorry in advance for whoever's name pops out." Her eyes sweeping across the room full of people, "Not that any of you are."

"Only be sorry if my name isn't drawn." George's voice echoed from the back of the room drawing a roudy cheer from the group.

Hermione reached over to the rim of the cup, the room remarkably quiet as they waited to see whose name was drawn and a thin piece of paper burst forth. She stretched out her fingers and took the spindly piece of parchment, the name _Ian McGregor_ starring back at her. Stilling herself at who the next name could possibly be, she reached in…and pulled another slip away, the name of _Charlie Weasley_ upon it. Feeling remarkably better, she plunged her hand in again, and upon seeing the name upon the paper, didn't know what to say or feel as she stared at the name of _Angelina Johnson_.

Hermione opened her mouth to recite the names…her mouth operating, automatically as her brain processed the meaning of Angelina's name appearing from the cup.

George had said that the only persons' names that were in the chalice were those that wished an opportunity to kiss _her_. That meant that Angelina had placed her name in the cup…and she had _wanted_ to kiss her. Hermione thought that Angelina and George were…involved. They always went places together, danced…hung out…but now that she thought about it, one rarely if ever spent the night at the other's residence.

Vaguely, she heard the cheers of Ian and Charlie, and cheers mixed with mild surprise upon hearing Angelina's name, but it was soon forgotten as the three persons stepped forward.

"Now…" George stepped around Ginny, hands outstretched before him as if in peace. "For the kissing rules."

"Kissing rules…" Her voice drawing out the words, eyebrows rising. "As in…"

"Have to kiss each person for at least one minute." He turned to the crowd; smile widening as he winked to Ian, Charlie, and Angelina. "If you go over, we won't tell anyone…but stop and go under the minute it negates any kisses you have done so far, and you have to start…over."

_I can do this, _Hermione thought to herself stepping closer to Ian.

"Just one more thing…" George said, turning half back around. "Reverse order from the drawing. Angelina, Charlie, and then Ian."

As Hermione took the necessary steps to Angelina, she asked loud enough for the packed room to hear. "You turn forty next year, don't you?"

George's head snapped back to meet the mirth in her eyes, "Don't you wish."

Hermione shrugged, stopping in front of Angelina. She had to kiss this woman for a minute. One minute. She could do a minute. It was only 60 seconds. Taking a deep breath, Hermione leaned forward…and could see Angelina's eyes closing in anticipation...feel the breath against her lips, before soft…surprisingly lush lips touched her own.

Hermione felt her body tighten in response as Angelina's lips slid across her own, subtle yet coaxing her to open her lips and grant the woman entry. Pushing her thoughts aside, she allowed herself to enjoy the kiss…for what it was…a kiss, and opened her mouth to the hungry lips begging for entrance. Unlike Ron…it was hesitant, gentle…and before she could think about it, her tongue was dancing along the other…

"Wow." George said, "What a minute!"

Whistles and cheers went up through the room as the two women broke their kiss, a content smile upon Angelina's face as Hermione stepped backwards, the tips of her ears turning red at the notion of having let herself go…and having a rather passionate kiss with a woman.

Hermione stepped in front of Charlie, who gave her a wicked grin. "I believe this was one of my brother's more…creative ideas."

"You have to wonder who gave him the idea." Hermione said leaning closer.

"Don't rightly know," He murmured across her lips, "But I'll have to thank them."

Charlie's kiss was subtle…and demanding. Much like the man behind the kiss. She could feel his hand gently caress her cheek, before raking into her hair…pulling her closer as his mouth opened up against her own.

A small part of her felt, rather odd to be kissing Ron's older brother. But…the fleeting notion was gone as his tongue raked across her own…for better or worse, Charlie was a much better kisser than Ron.

"We are getting quite the show!" George said, as Hermione stepped back. "Two for two."

Hermione stepped over to Ian, feeling lighter. One kiss…and she was done. She'd be able to leave Harry's confounded living room, not that it wasn't nice…but the loo had been calling her name for close to half an hour, not counting that her drink had long since run out.

Hermione leaned in, and felt her world screech to a halt as wet lips slid across hers. Her mind reeled…it was like kissing her nephews as children…and before she could stop herself, she pulled away.

"Looks like Ian caught her unawares!" George shook his head, "Which means…" He pointed back to Angelina. "Back…" Voice dropping, "To the beginning."

Hermione turned to George, "Give me your drink."

He almost looked indignant at her statement, but slowly relented his firewhisky. "I should get some type of payment."

"How 'bout a truce between us for a few months, less I feel the need to get even." She downed the contents of his glass in its entirety, handing his empty one in return.

He nodded, "Sounds fair."

Hermione shook her head and with a breath marched forward, rolling her lips along her mouth. _Three kisses…three minutes…_ She paused for a moment, eyes taking in the witch opposite of her…noticing that she had olive eyes, not quite green or even emerald…she thought leaning in.

Unlike previously, her mouth immediately formed across the other woman's…and she found herself opening her lips…picturing slightly higher cheekbones, just as supple lips…and the kiss felt as though it was over before it began. As she stepped back, Angelina met her gaze for a moment…questioning…but Hermione smiled and moved on to Charlie. Their minute passed almost as quickly as with Angelina, but not quite. And before she realized it, she was back to Ian.

As his lips met hers…she curtailed her initial reaction to back away from the sloppy, wet kiss and forced herself to lean in to it which caused a worse reaction. His mouth opening beneath hers, trying to devour her…

Hermione felt as though he was trying to swallow her face, in its entirety…and her hands found his shoulders to push him away, she made herself stop…willing the seconds to pass by quicker, until finally…she heard George's voice.

"Time's up, lovebirds!" He stated, as Hermione thankfully pushed a mildly reluctant Ian away as she gratefully made her way past him and down the hall to the loo amidst a round of cheers.

**September 20, 2009**

The sky was beginning to lighten, Hermione pulled the blanket just a bit tighter around her as she nestled closer to George who had just sat back down…the only other person awake and coherent still remaining at the Potter's residence. Harry and Ginny had passed out about a half hour ago, whereas Ron and Seamus had been holed up in the corner snoring for close to five…and several others had found open floor, sofa or even the scant amount of bed space throughout the evening, though most had opted for using the floo network to go home – save for the Hogwarts' Professors. They left with a bit of flair and a loud ear splitting apparition, which left a large portion of the remaining persons wondering if one of the professors had splinched.

"Here." He said, voice hoarse from cheering Bill on against Charlie and Ron in a drinking game as he handed her a cup of steaming coffee. "Figured we could both use a cup."

"Thanks." She said, enjoying the warmth permeating through the porcelain.

"Feel any older?" He asked, fingers pulling the edge of her blanket over his legs.

"Before or after last night?" She inquired, taking a sip.

"Why after last night of course." He replied chuckling.

"Uhhhmmm." She seemed to mull it over, before taking a deep breath and responding. "Perhaps a bit older, but only because I had to live through that repulsive experience of a kiss."

George felt his shoulders sink, as he had felt a bit sorry that he had subjected Hermione to the kissing enchantment. Though, it had been to help his dear friend, Angelina. "Sorry about that." He said, "I'm sure it was a bit awkward kissing her."

"Her?" Hermione's face scrunched as her brain processed his statement.

"Angelina." He replied without thought.

Hermione turned to him, laughter on the tip of her lips. "Ian."

"Ian?" He inquired. "I thought you were referring to Angelina."

Her brow arched, "No." The high levels of alcohol loosening her tongue, "Actually, truth be told, she kissed quite well as did Charlie. Ian, however, kissed as well as Hugo."

"Ewwwww." George said, face snarling in response. "That's bloody awful."

"Add to the fact he was trying to devour my face." George couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up as she continued. "I'll probably have nightmares for weeks."

"Sor…ry." He said between gasps. "Never…heard…devour…glad it was…you…" Tears were dripping from his eyes, and before long both were on the ground in a fit of laughter. Minutes passed until they both had stopped, ending up on their sides, facing each other. With a deep breath, he broke the still twilight air, "So…I just have to ask."

She nodded, reaching out and dragging her cup to her. "Where did this sudden pretense come from? You, asking for permission?"

His face split into a grin, shoulder shrugging. "There's a first time for everything."

"And I'm still waiting."

"Right, you are." He said, reaching behind him, fingers curling around the cup and bringing it to him. "It's just…you and I, it may seem a rather rude question."

"After last night George, and putting me through that damn enchantment. You're lucky I'm still too drunk to kick your arse. Now, ask your question."

"What was it like to kiss Angelina?"

"Surely you know." She replied.

He shook his head, "I'm not asking for me…" He quietly replied. "But for her."

Hermione felt her jaw drop, "As in, her…you mean…" She paused, eyes training onto George's who nodded in the unspoken question.

"She is." He confirmed. "And has liked you since Hogwarts."

Hermione's cheeks were burning as were her ears…her throat dry, mouth slack.

"So, I know…you and Ron." He cleared his throat, "Please don't feel as though you have to answer, and this is…" He shook his head, sitting up. "Bloody awkward. She can come ask herself."

"Woah," Hermione reached out, fingers curling around his forearm. "I've always felt we've been good friends, George. Don't feel awkward."

He ground his teeth, nodding and then took a breath. "Alright." He said, leaning back, her hand releasing his arm as his blue eyes turned to her, the first rays of sun sparkling against his irises. "Do you have any interest in dating a woman?"

"I've honestly never thought about it George." She replied without thought. "And until this evening, I can't say that I had ever kissed a woman."

"And…you didn't say how it was."

"She's a good kisser…but, I don't know. I suppose…but it would be like me asking you if you would be interested in guys."

She could see his face pinch for a hairs breathe of a second, and his jaw flex. He stared into her brown eyes for a long moment, debating. "Can I trust you Hermione?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course you can."

He reached over, his large hand gently wrapping around hers. "Even regarding the family?"

"What has gotten into you, other than the firewhisky?" She asked, concerned at his random thought process.

"Ginny, the other day…" He said, eyes dropping, "Mentioned that you wouldn't divulge McG's family, even to her and Harry. And…it's not that I don't trust them or you, it's just…well," His voice became a whisper. "I can't take the chance."

"What in Merlin's beard are you talking about?"

"Can I trust you, not to tell anyone…including Harry, Ginny…anyone?"

"I won't." She said, meeting his heartfelt gaze. "I promise."

"Then…you would need to rephrase your statement, as I would rather kiss a guy."

"I always thought, you and Angelina…"

"A wonderful friend, nothing more." He said, leaning his head back, "And one of the few who know the truth."

"And when you were at Hogwarts?"

"We tried to be something neither of us wanted, and so settled into a very comfortable friendship."

"Did Fred ever, you know…know?"

George's smile quirked, "Yes. He knew and tried to get me to tell mum and dad, but after everything…I just couldn't."

"Why?" Hermione asked, "I'm sure they would be fine."

He nodded, "I'm sure, it's just…they want more grandkids. And after Fred passed, I thought of trying to marry a woman…have children."

"You can't take the place of Fred, George. Nor would they want you too."

Hermione nodded, "They want you to be happy." She shook her head, "You should just tell them, it isn't like the muggle world. They will accept you, they love you."

He frowned, "Like the muggle world?"

"Although not prevalent in the wizarding world, same sex relationships are generally accepted and recognized through marriage, whereas, in the muggle world – it is overall, not accepted, recognized and falls into the taboo area." Hermione squeezed his hand, "You are so full of life, George. Live it, be happy."

"Perhaps…" He shrugged, taking the last sip of his coffee. "But, I'm not ready yet." A smile erupted across his face, "Haven't found the right…person to take a chance on."

"Ever?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

The faint morning rays of sunlight matched the rose colored blush in his cheeks. "Now," He cleared his throat, "We are delving into the realm of extremely personal information, and I must ask for quid pro quo, Hermione."

"You tell, I tell?"

George nodded. "Yes."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "And you'll tell me?"

"And what will you…"

"Yes." She interrupted, and both realized that their friendship was on the verge of being far deeper than their casual and always amicable interactions. It was a mixture of their past, the sheer amount of alcohol consumed…

"All right." He said and paused, ears turning pinker. "The answer is…no."

"You've never…"

George shook his head, "I have, just…not with a guy." He shrugged, "Angelina and I…at Hogwarts, but after…" He cleared his throat, "We should have done this hours ago, and several bottles of firewhisky."

"I don't understand, I thought you and Angelina…"

"We were drunk, had just won the quidditch cup…" He grinned, "We were both, willing and…were thinking of others…while, having sex."

_Wow_. She mouthed, "I can't believe...have you at least kissed, a guy?"

"Your turn." George said, "And to answer in short, yes. Now…"

Hermione took a deep breath, thinking and at once felt her cheeks burning. "I…" She met his gaze, stilling her heart. "Are you sure? It's about Ron."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, nodding. "I love him, but…he's my brother and I use to wonder how in the devil you stayed married to him without killing him."

"No one knows…"

"I think we are on equal footing there, Hermione." George said light-hearted allaying her fears. "Out of all my friends, only Angelina and now you know…"

"Alright." She swallowed the last of her coffee, "Besides our constant arguing, the lack of common interests…" George nodded knowingly at both areas as the entire Weasley family had spoken about those two obvious factors over the first two months after their initial separation. "And the other areas which I have already told you and the rest of the family, but the one I didn't tell a soul dealt with our intimate life. Neither of us had been with anyone else prior…and in the beginning it was exciting, new…and then it leveled off…until it all but died."

"Died as in…"

"Your turn." She said as the sun peaked over the hill.

"Well, this could be interesting." He grinned, leaning back arm wrapping around his leg. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he heard a squeak from the door beside them and Charlie stepped out.

"Have you both been up all night?" He said stretching his arms as he yawned.

"Yeah," George said staving off a yawn. "But I was getting ready to floo back to my flat." He grasped Charlie's hand, who had helped him up. George and Charlie both turned to Hermione, and she reached out and felt her feet beneath her.

"You heading back to Hogwarts?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, I don't think I want to draw up floor space." Hermione replied drawing a knowing smile from the two Weasley brothers.

"Are you sober enough to apparate?" George asked, knowing that none of the floo networks were open to anyone save the Deputy or Headmistress.

At that, Hermione winked. "Filius…" She reached into her jean's pocket and pulled out a coin, "Gave me this before leaving."

Charlie and George stared at it for a moment, both nodding at Filius' gift. "Portkey." They said in unison.

"Yes," She replied, "For some reason, he didn't think that I would be up to apparating…"

Both men laughed at the small, mild mannered man. And both were thankful in their own way for Filius' forethought in crafting a portkey for Hermione to be able to take back to Hogwarts.

A few minutes passed as George, Hermione and Charlie gathered their items. Charlie gave Hermione a gentle kiss on Hermione's cheek. "It was good to see you, Hermione." And then with a flash of green powder, disappeared into the floo network.

George and Hermione starred at each other for a very long moment, and then leaned in giving each other a deep, warm hug. "Stop by when you have some time off."

"I will." She said, giving him a peck on his stubbled cheek.

"And…" His eyes burning into hers…

"We'll talk." She said, giving him a final squeeze before breaking apart. "Now get some sleep."

"You too, love." He whispered as she whispered Hogwarts and with a wink, she was gone.

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxox

Large yellow eyes watched as the Mistress' eyes furloughed, emerald orbs no longer reading the morning report as she glanced up, seemingly to stare at nothing before turning to the window. She stood there for just a moment longer and then at once glided to the opening, her ivory robe and wet black curls trailing in the wind.

Minerva's fingers grazed across the stone ledge, as her eyes narrowed and she sought confirmation at what she had felt mere seconds ago. A portkey. The wards had shifted, and as the iron gates closed, she could just make out the wobbling figure who was now leaning heavily against it. "Damn." Her thick brogue lacing her words as her lips thinned.

"Mistress?" Elgin took a step closer to the Mistress.

It would not do well to have a Head of House seen stumbling to her rooms, even if it had been her birthday last evening. A frown settled in along her mouth, as she would need to speak with Filius about the finer nuances of subtlety. When she had asked him to craft a portkey for Hermione to ensure she would return safely to Hogwarts, she had neglected to say to Hermione's personal rooms and not the front gates.

With a great sigh, Minerva turned away from the window as she banished the parchment. "Please see to it that no students are near the windows facing the gates for the next ten minutes." She said striding through the door to her rooms, her outer cloak already touching the fingers of her right hand.

"Immediately, Mistress." He said and with a pop was gone.

Minerva waved her left hand, her bathrobe dissolving and transfiguring into a thin inner robe. The robe was sleeveless, the neck line mirrored that of where her bathrobe's had been – between the valley of her breasts, the material pulling thicker around her legs and her breasts as she did not have the time to worry about undergarments. At once, she fastened the silver clasps of her outer cloak before slipping a pair of boots on.

With another wave, her wand leapt into her fingers as Albus' frame came to life. "Minerva?" He asked concerned by the lack of her usual green tartan, layered robes.

"I'll be back momentarily, Albus. Filius created a portkey for Hermione to the gates, and not her personal rooms."

"I fail to see…"

Minerva flicked her wand, her hair falling into a thick damp braid along her back. "It was her birthday last eve, and she's had rather too much to drink."

Immediately the situation swept across his face, "Do be careful, it wouldn't do for you to be caught looking as you do."

"Elgin is taking care of that…" She replied and at once pulled the wards to her, shifting them…and then she felt the terrain beneath her feet change as a wave of morning dew swept over her.

Xoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxox

_What a rush!_ Hermione thought, as she leaned into the gate which wearily swung open. She had apparated before after having a bit to drink, but never portkeyed… Her world was spinning and despite holding onto the solid iron fence, she couldn't focus. _Probably a combination…too much alcohol, awake too long, the awesome rush of the portkey…_

She stumbled forward, the blurry castle of Hogwarts seeming quite far, as she forced herself to snap the gate closed. Her fingers remaining griped to the iron, and she felt herself slowly sink to the ground. _Maybe I'll just rest a minute…_she thought, feeling an overwhelming urge to close her eyes.

Xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoooxox

Immediately Minerva turned to the gates, "Hermione." She muttered as the young witch's form greeted her eyes. Hermione's hand was still holding onto the rod iron, her head leaning against her own arm, chestnut hair spilling forward as the first rays of sun glinted off her curly mane. Her midnight blue sweater loosely hugging her form, jeans flaring at her ankles…

Minerva walked forward at once, knowing that time was of the essence, Elgin would not be able to keep the slowly waking students away from an entire side of the castle for long. Within two strides, she could smell the alcohol…along with a trace of almond…Minerva could feel her body _want _to respond to the woman and pushing any thought of indecency aside, she kneeled down.

"Hermione." Her voice clipped.

"Hmmmm." Came the faint reply through a mob of hair.

"Hermione." Minerva stated raising her voice. "Get up."

"…tired."

Minerva reached over, peeling Hermione's hand from the bars, "Come on." She said, groaning as she pulled Hermione to her feet, and placing Hermione's arm around her shoulders.

"Where…?" Hermione mumbled, head lulling to the side as Minerva stilled her body and steadied the other woman's.

"Hold on." Minerva replied and forced the wards to bend again, feeling the weight pull and her magic swell as she apparated them into the Tower and Hermione's rooms.

Minerva maneuvered Hermione to her bed and eased her upon it. "Ugh…" Hermione said as her body collapsed onto the soft bed. Her eyes momentarily blinking against the fatigue and light, brown eyes noting the image of a tall, slender…yet muscular woman whose green eyes stared back at her own. Green…and it reminded her of the kiss she had shared…a smile curling her lips. It had been a passionate kiss, something she had never expected to find…especially in that of another woman. "..ur…kiss was…breath…taking." She murmured as her dreams swept over her.

Hermione's words froze Minerva. _Kiss?...? _She stood staring at the unconscious woman for several minutes, _surely she hadn't heard her correctly, had she? _Her eyes remaining fixed as her mind replayed Hermione's words…over and over, until her rationale mind finally overcame her shock. _She is undoubtedly dreaming of Ronald…_she thought, and raised her wand…with a series of quick flicks; Hermione's clothes had been transfigured, she was beneath her covers, and the blinds to her rooms had been drawn. Minerva allowed a moment's more indulgence before summoning Elgin and with a pop, she was back in her rooms...shedding her outer cloak along with her recently transfigured piece that may pass for a semblance of a robe as she stepped into her bathroom – her skin on fire…she needed another cold shower.

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed & if you did; let me know – please. & Tigertales – this should have answered your question, at least for a moment ;)_


	17. Chapter 16 September 23rd, 2009

**Chapter 16 ~ September 23****rd**** 2009 (Wednesday)**

Hermione stared at the article, eyes rereading the text – hoping for an additional clue. This was the fourth person to turn up missing since the 19th. The Ministry was reporting that they had no clues or correlating factors as of yet, issuing a notice to the wizarding community not to panic.

She had wished to ask Minerva if she had any additional knowledge, but the Headmistress had been away from the castle since early Monday. If she had returned it must have been after the final evening hall checks and well before breakfast for both mornings. In addition, Hermione had noticed that Filius seemed quite fatigued yesterday too, which didn't bode well.

Hermione stopped her line of thinking, surely if Minerva knew anything; she would have contacted the Order. Wouldn't she have?

Just then, she heard the distinctive gait that preceded the Headmistress and at once all the heads at the Professors' table turned…and Hermione could feel her jaw slacken at the haggard woman striding forward. "Hello." Minerva stated the fatigue evident in her voice.

A series of greetings were issued forth to the Headmistress as her eyes swept up and then down the table. "I need to see all the members of staff following breakfast."

A flurry of concerned looks were exchanged with each other as she turned and quickly swept back from the staff door at a speed that belayed her age. The rest of breakfast passed by in a whirlwind, each professor quietly inquiring if they had any information as to what the Headmistress wished to discuss.

Close to an hour had passed since Minerva had entered the Great Hall, before Pomona strode through the door of the Professors' main lounge, the last staff member to arrive…save for the Headmistress. "Am I late?" She asked, her large eyes sweeping across the room expecting to see Minerva.

"No." Sinistra replied leaning back in her purple velvet chair. "Minerva hasn't…"

"Arrived." Minerva finished stepping into the room. "Now, I know several of you have class in a half hour, so let me get straight to the point." She said closing and warding the door. "There have been four known kidnappings since the nineteenth, and what hasn't been released is that each person was at one point in time a professor," She paused, eyes sweeping across their faces. "Here."

Their response was immediate; gasps, shocked and concerned faces, and then came Pomona's soft voice. "The names haven't been released, either." She swallowed, hard as she thought back through the years, and the many persons who had come and gone through the prestigious halls, "Dear Merlin, Minerva, who are they?"

Tired eyes turned to Pomona, "Gregory Evant, Corey Carson, Noraan Nash, and Sandra Turmbolt."

"Has the Ministry finally conceded that there is a growing problem…" Hermione began, but Minerva interrupted.

"I'm afraid there is not enough evidence to prove anything except that they are missing." She said closing the door on Hermione's question, "And after all the evidence I have seen at the Ministry, I have no doubt that there will be more…and no I don't know if they will continue to target previous Hogwarts' professors. The Ministry does not believe it is anything more than a coincidence."

"Yes, well…" Marx's deep voice breaking across the myriad of questions, "We all know and thoroughly respect the Ministry, but what I believe everyone is anxious to know is what do you believe, Minerva? "

All eyes turned to Minerva, expectantly. Waiting, for her answer. It was as if another thousand galleons was thrust upon her weary shoulders, as her staff sought reassurance that she didn't have to give them. The only thing she could give them was the truth, which looked bleak at best. "I…fear that there will be more kidnappings and it will eventually lead to killings. Currently though, I do concur with the Ministry," She raised her hands to stave off the onslaught of the grumblings, "Momentarily regarding the coincidence that the missing wizards and witches worked at Hogwarts."

"Does the Ministry have any leads as to who is behind the attacks?" Neville asked.

"They and I have two very different theories." She replied and at their urgent and constant prodding she finally relented. "I believe Johannes Harkiss is behind the kidnappings."

XOXOXOXOXXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXO

Slowly the stone staircase groaned to a stop, the Headmistress' door swinging open before she had even raised her hand. She could see Minerva leaning over her desk, the quill frantically scratching away as she stepped into the Headmistress' study.

Hermione drew to a stop, a wake of emerald ink flowing beneath Minerva's hand as she continued with her task without looking up. "I have spoken to Filius, and he will cover your House this evening. As I am needed elsewhere," She dipped her quill into the ink pot, "And…" She raised her eyes, jaw mildly clenching as she uttered the words. "Would like your assistance this evening."

"I…what is going on?" Hermione asked.

"Will you be available immediately following your last class, time is of the essence." Minerva had already picked up her quill and began to scratch the next sentence.

"Then why not leave now?" Hermione didn't understand. "Why wait?"

The quill stopped moving and slowly Minerva raised her head, eyes peering over the rim of her golden glasses. "Because Hermione, I asked _you_ to accompany me on my exploits."

"But I could leave…"

"No," Minerva's voice becoming hard, "You cannot. You have classes that need to be taught, and as much as I need to leave, I will not have the students miss their classes unnecessarily. And the one aspect you seem to have forgotten amidst this is that it is best for me and now you to operate quietly, without the entire world knowing what we are searching for or for that matter know we are searching for anything at all."

Hermione nodded, "Of course." She replied, "But you just seem, exhausted and would it not be better to leave sooner than later?"

"I am and it would, but neither is currently a luxury." Minerva lowered her gaze back to the parchment, "As I have been given a Ministry directive to remain at Hogwarts and not to talk to any previous Hogwarts' professors…"

"Which you plan on doing." Hermione stated.

"Yes," Minerva penned a closing note, "As those four names do have one aspect in common…" She said as she finished scribbling her own name upon the parchment. "They all taught the Care of Magical Creatures class."

"And you didn't tell Kingsley?" Hermione stated rhetorically before asking, "Why?"

"Despite my long tenure here, Hermione. I don't know all of the professors who have taught at Hogwarts. It wasn't until about four this morning that Filius and I found the correlation." Minerva place her quill in the ink pot, absently rolling up the parchment as she raised her eyes to Hermione.

"How many other professors who have taught the class are still alive?" Hermione asked finally realizing what Minerva was planning.

"Two. Wilhemenia Grubbly-Plank who taught your first two years at Hogwarts and Stuart Stalks." She melted the wax upon the edge and placed her seal upon it before putting it away and placing the scroll upon the edge of her desk.

"Why them?"

"I can only surmise Hermione, and I'd much rather speak to them in person."

"But you have an idea."

Minerva peeled her glasses off, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "They know the grounds of Hogwarts and how to enter and exit without detection."

At that moment, Hermione felt the foundations of her world shift as the woman before her slowly raised her head from her hand and met her gaze. Exhaustion eking off of her pale face and sunken green eyes, and it became apparent to Hermione that Minerva was operating through willpower alone.

She would have plenty of time to speak with Minerva while en route to their destinations, and it was readily apparent that the Headmistress needed a few hours of sleep before they left. "I'll be back in three hours after my fourth years of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws to depart. But I would suggest some rest in the interim."

Minerva stood, "Thank you for your concern, Hermione."

The younger witch knew how to tell the quiet and distinct dismissal immediately, Minerva was a master in the art of subtlety. It would not do well to push the venerable woman today, she seemed exhausted, worried and who knew what else. Squelching her questions, Hermione gave the Headmistress a brief nod and swept from the rooms, wondering what this coming evening would bring.

XOXOXOOXXOXOXXOXOXXOXOXOXOXXOXOXOX

Hermione stepped into the Headmistress' office fifteen minutes earlier than intended. She would have waited, but she knew that Minerva wanted to leave as soon as possible. Even if that meant Minerva didn't get much sleep. The door opened and instead of the solitary figure of Minerva McGonagall…looking slightly more rested; she was standing opposite of her son and daughter, a rose hue touching her cheeks.

All three heads turned to the door, and at once, Hermione felt incredibly out of place…but seeing the three standing there, and knowing what she did…it was now acutely obvious who Tessa and Percival's parents were.

Red hair…green eyes…

"I'll come back…" Hermione said, fingers already on the door handle to exit.

"No." Minerva stated, voice ringing in the stillness. "We had just finished."

Despite her words, Percival and Tessa's jaw clenched, both trying not to comment. Percival failing, "I refuse to carry or ask Audry to carry a portkey."

"Do you honestly expect us to not fight against Johannes?" Tessa asked, "After everything…"

Minerva sighed as she met her children's gaze. "I expect you to still be alive at the end of each day, and if that means utilizing a portkey, so be it."

"I can't believe…" "And you call yourself Gryffindor…" Her children touted at once.

"No," Minerva's jaw tightened, "I call myself _your_ mother."

Immediately both Tessa and Percival shot Hermione a glance, before meeting their mother's penetrating gaze. "Does she know…"

"Yes, now go and take the portkeys." Minerva said, "I have some pressing business regarding Hogwarts."

Percival reached out taking two pins and then handed two to Tessa. "I would like to finish this conversation later this evening."

Hermione piped up, knowing that they would be gone until late, and if Minerva had to deal with her children after…she would undoubtedly collapse. "I'm afraid it will be well past ten this evening…"

Percival swung his head around, gaze hard and cold as it pinned Hermione. "We'll wait."

"No," Tessa said shaking her head, "Kat and Cal will be in bed and I don't want to wake them. The morning will be fine."

He leaned over and kissed his mother's cheek and gave Tessa a nod before throwing a handful of floo powder into the grate. "Till the morrow. Simmering Stews." And he was gone.

Tessa turned to Hermione, "Welcome to the smallest family with the largest secret in the whole of the wizarding world. And don't fret about Percival, he has a wonderful heart just a very thick skin."

Hermione nodded, taking a step into the office. "I'll remember that."

"And…since you do know who her children are, we'll expect you to keep us informed regarding mother's activities…"

"Tessa…" Minerva's voice was terse.

"She still believes she is my age and invincible." Tessa stated, a smile spreading across her lips. "We're just worried." She finished leaning over and giving her mother a hug, "That you'll overdo it, as is typical."

Minerva returned the hug and then guided Tessa to the grate, "Give my regards to the children."

"Always." She replied and with a nod to Hermione, a green fire erupted as the words, "O'Connell Chalet."

"Have you slept any?" Hermione's soft question pulling Minerva from her thoughts.

"No." She said stepping around her desk, "I have been dealing with a handful of personal matters."

"Why do you want them to have a portkey?" Hermione asked.

Minerva's fingers wrapped around the corner of the old wooden desk, tightening as she held her balance. "Because, _they_ are a primary target. They will enable him to get to me, and he hopes the Heart of Hogwarts."

"You've said that before, what is in the Heart of Hogwarts that he is after?"

"I told you…"

"What you wanted the Order to hear. Given the strength of his resolve to obtain what lies inside, I am guessing there is more than an ideological notion regarding immorality and the ability to obtain it at Hogwarts."

"There are some things, dear, that despite your inquisitive and sharp mind…you will never learn the absolute truth."

"Then there is a way…" She countered searching Minerva's face.

"There is exceptionally strong magic within the bowels of the castle, I suppose you could call it the very essence and foundation of Hogwarts. Only the Deputy and Head of Hogwarts are permitted to enter, not even the house elves are allowed within the chamber."

"If that was the case, why didn't Voldemort have Severus take him to the Heart and strip the magic down for himself?"

"I'm sure he would have tried if he had known about it."

"Surely, he knew about it. He excelled in knowing obscurities."

"Traditionally, only the past Head of Hogwarts and the Deputy's know. Not even the Board of Governors knows. As Albus and I were the Deputy and Head for well over thirty years, and prior to Albus was the Deputy for another twenty and Dippet died a year after retiring. There were no surviving Heads of Hogwarts for Voldemort to learn the truth."

"Then how did Johannes learn about the Heart of Hogwarts?"

"He was part of the family, Hermione." At Hermione's confused look, she elaborated. "And while we have always remained extremely guarded in public, when at home we were a family. Did you not talk about work to Ronald when arriving home?"

"Yes…I just…I cannot picture you and Dumbleore at home talking about Hogwarts?"

"Is it so difficult to imagine?" Albus' portrait asked. "That we would take our work home with us?"

Hermione turned to Albus, "No, not at all. I just would have thought you would have spent the time away from the school with your children."

"We did." Minerva stated simply, "We also would discuss family gatherings that would invariably have to be set around Hogwarts' schedules and it would be second nature to Albus and I to say something as, 'sorry, we can't make it next Tuesday evening as we'll be in the Heart conducting our warding.'"

Realization struck Hermione, hard. "Why did you tell me?"

Minerva pushed herself away from the desk, "Because, I am sure you will hear it mentioned over the next few months and if I should fall, there will be someone other than Filius who will know a semblance of truth behind Johannes' attacks."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot at Minerva's words. "You can't die." Hermione finally uttered as Minerva stepped closer.

"I assure you, I can." Minerva said, "Now," She fought off the urge to close her eyes and enjoy the light, rich almond scent suddenly permeating her senses. A scent that had been embedded into her memory from her animagus state…stifling her thoughts, Minerva reached out her hand. "We need to be leaving before the Minister comes through the door."

"The Minister?" Hermione asked, eyes frowning at Minerva.

"He's in front of the Gargoyle."

Hermione stretched out her hand, "Wouldn't the floo network be better?"

"He can't trace us this way, nor does Stuart's have a fireplace connected to the floo."

The distinct sound of the Gargoyle's rise reached Hermione's ears as her fingers wrapped around Minerva's hand. The noise hadn't been as apparent before, but after touching Minerva it was easily discernable. Hermione didn't know how Minerva was able to apparate through Hogwarts' wards, but her eyes could see the handle of the door move and then a pulse swept through her, followed by an array of greens and blues and then they were standing next to a gnarled birch tree with only a handful of leaves still hanging on to its branches.

Minerva blearily blinked back the fatigue as she focused on their destination, the foothills along the eastern loch near Coventry. At once she felt a wave pass through her as her magic went to do her bidding, and the endless fatigue tied to it, and then the sudden swell of Hogwarts' magic jolt through her…and in that instant, she apparated her and Hermione.

"Come." Minerva immediately pulling her arm away, lest the other woman notice the darkening around the tips of her fingers. "Stuart's home lies just beyond."

Hermione jolted into action, wand gripped tightly in her hand as she strode beside Minerva. "When did he teach at Hogwarts?"

"He retired after my second year." Minerva said, her long strides quickly making short work of the hill.

"You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?" Hermione asked, glancing towards Minerva.

"In this instance, no." Minerva said, a trace of a smile passing her face as she crested the knoll. "Dear Merlin…" She muttered, eyes taking in the devastation that greeted her.

Involuntarily, Hermione raised her hand to her mouth, "Oh…my…" She gulped in a deep breath, "Do you think anyone survived..." She paused as her eyes continued sweeping across the charcoaled earth and the hole of shattered planks, wood fragments and scant pieces of metal where a house previously stood. "That?"

"I don't know, but…" Minerva took a step forward, but felt a hand on her arm staying her. Minerva felt her eyebrow raise as she glanced to the fingers curled around her arm, and then followed it to the witch to whom it belonged. "We are going to find out."

Hermione met Minerva's penetrating gaze, slowly acquiescing to the elder woman's will and releasing her fingers. "And if it's a trap?"

"There is no smoke, even from embers of a fire, it has been more than a day since this took place." Minerva stated as she walked forward, Hermione grudgingly following.

"Did you see this type of destruction during Voldemort's first war?" Hermione inquired, trying to understand the basis of Minerva's knowledge.

"No." Minerva stepped around a stone basin, "Watch, that's a well." She pointed to a wood panel next to the overlay of stone. "I became acutely familiar with these types of scenes during the Grindlewald years."

"There isn't…" Hermione's voice dropped as they began stepping onto the outskirts of the burnt property. "A lot of information regarding the aurors in the war, the encounters, the type of defense, only facts of the dead and location."

Minerva wandlessly moved a fallen roof timber and piece of thatch to see beneath, nothing but burnt grass greeted their eyes. "After the war, most aurors wanted to forget what they saw." She replied.

"Including you?" Hermione stepped around a series of barrels, trying not to lose sight of Minerva's profile.

"I was not an auror by title Hermione." Again, Minerva flipped over covering debris.

"Everything I have read states that you were an auror and fought in the Grindlewald war."

Minerva paused, eyes narrowing at the pile of ash. "Yes, well…history has embellished my role."

Hermione's eyes following Minerva as she knelt down, fingers slowly grazing the ashes. "Perhaps, but I somehow doubt that."

Minerva felt tears prick the corner of her eyes, "He died here."

"How can you tell?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded. There were no marks, just a scant pile of ashes.

"Solidify the ashes, you'll see an outline of a body." Minerva said, standing.

Hermione waved her wand as she cast the spell, and felt her breath catch. There amongst the blackened earth, the ashes in questions pulled together into the formation of a person of a rather large girth and short in stature. She didn't notice that Minerva had stepped around her, intent upon looking for additional clues, her own focus upon the black ash of a man.

Minerva picked her way through bits of Stuart's home to no avail. There was nothing here to indicate what Johannes had been after or proof that it had indeed been Johannes. She knew that Stuart had been experimenting with alternative forms of energy, and that Kingsley would undoubtedly state that the cause of his death was a direct correlation to one of his experiments. Unfortunately, the blast pattern was indicative of an explosion and there was no other evidence of a wizards' battle.

"Hermione." Minerva stated walking back to the young witch who had remained by Stuart's body. "We need to go."

"We can't just leave him…"

"Nor can we bury him." Minerva's voice soft. "As we are not supposed to be here."

"The Ministry will know someone was here as some of the boards and debris have been flipped."

"Yes, but they won't be able to rule out natural factors like the wind."

"And our footprints?" Hermione asked glancing behind her, to see nothing but blackened earth.

"Let's go." Minerva reached out, "We can do nothing for him."

Hermione swallowed her heartache as she placed her hand upon Minerva's and with a whirl, they were standing by a dilapidated building next to a weathered cypress tree.

"Wilhemenia's is around the next bend." Minerva beginning marching forward.

Hermione trudged after the woman, "You saw a lot of death during Grindlewald."

It wasn't really a question, but Minerva answered. "Yes."

"Is that how you are able to seem indifferent to it all?" Hermione asked, causing Minerva to stop and immediately turn to her.

Anger and hurt reflected in Minerva's green eyes. "If that is what you believe, then return to Hogwarts Hermione, I will finish…" She turned, her robes flourishing around her as she moved on, "Alone."

"That's not…" Hermione swore under her breath as she practically ran to catch up to the Headmistress. "What I meant." She finished grabbing Minerva's shoulder and stopping her.

"I haven't time for games..." Minerva's broque lacing her words as she turned, jaw set in defiance.

"You…" Hermione sighed, "I am absolutely sure it affects you, but you exist behind a wall that no one sees behind. And I am trying to understand how you deal with someone's death, because you merely did what you needed and then on to the next. And quite frankly, it is mildly disturbing to see people's remains and just move on. I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around Stuart's death and the lady from the Flat."

"I didn't deal with it well, either when I was your age." Minerva's face softening as, the pain ebbing from her voice "I have been unfortunate in that I have been exposed to a lot of death, including those close to me. There have been times that I have sought comfort in a bottle, in a friend's arms, in a lover's body, through withdrawing…but I have never permitted myself to just stop functioning Hermione. To do so, would not give their deaths meaning nor would it help to save others."

"So you do what you need to do to get the job done."

"Precisely." Minerva turned, pausing as she glanced over her shoulder, "Are you coming?"

"Do I have a choice?" Hermione mumbled.

Minerva reached out, fingers lifting the other woman's head. "Always. If at any point you can go no further, then stop. I won't think any less of you, nor would anyone else."

Hermione nodded as Minerva's fingers fell away. The two women walked in silence for several minutes, before Hermione finally broke it. "Thank you, by the way."

Minerva turned to her as she pushed off her walking stick. "For?"

"The bottle of McGonagall Malt, my present, which I'll be giving back as soon as you are at Hogwarts' long enough for me to give it back to you."

"A gift given can't be given back." Minerva said, "Besides after the amount of Red Labeled Firewhisky you consumed, I thought a different brand may be apropos."

A smile quirked at the corner of her lips, "Who told you I had anything to drink?"

"A stumbling woman at the gates of Hogwarts."

Hermione felt the color drain from her face as she stopped, mortified. "You saw me?"

Minerva chuckled as she pivoted, "And took you back to your rooms. Which incidentally, I have already spoken to Filius about creating a portkey to return persons to their rooms and not the gates in special circumstances."

"Did anyone else, I mean how did you see me?" The tips of her ears were beginning to turn pink, she had thought she had portkeyed back to her rooms. She didn't even remember arriving back at Hogwarts after leaving Harry's the other night. She did however, remember an unusual vision of a tall woman with delicate, almost sheer ivory robes that had a very low cut down the woman's breasts…a thick braid of hair laying across the woman's shoulder as green eyes stared intently into her own. She couldn't place the familiar face, just the lush lips and yearning eyes staring at her…so like Angelina…

"No one else saw you. Save for one of the house elves." Minerva was about to turn away and continue on, but couldn't help herself. "Just for curiosity sake, who of the three persons you kissed that night was the best kisser?"

If Hermione could have sunk into the ground, she would have in a heartbeat. Mortified didn't begin to cover her feelings on her current predicament as her face quickly became the same color as her burning ears. "I…ah…did Filius tell you?"

"Amongst a few others." Minerva replied keeping her face neutral as the younger woman struggled with an answer.

"Pomona…" Minerva nodded, "Marx…" Again a nod. "Am I to presume I was the talk of breakfast the next morning."

"And lunch."

Hermione groaned, "Just perfect."

"No harm done." Minerva replied, a smile lighting her eyes as the first smattering of reds and yellows began to highlight the sky. "I would just make sure George wasn't involved in any more party favors."

Hermione laughed outright, "I don't think I have anything to worry about for some time in that regard. But I will be helping him with Harry's birthday next year."

_Next year…_Minerva felt her smile begin to fall and to hide the fact she turned away. "I'm sure it will be a wonderful party."

Hermione immediately fell into step beside her, "As Harry's is two weeks before the start of term next year, you'll have to keep it open on your calendar."

Minerva gave a nod forcing the tail end of a smile to remain. "I shall."

"Great." Hermione replied as they stepped around the hill and a large Griffin swooped down upon five wizards, bolts of magic striking its wings.

Hermione began running forward and had expected Minerva to change into her animagus state and sprint ahead, but instead the elder woman was darting across the field beside her…wand out, emerald robes and black hair trailing behind her…

The Griffin's tail struck one wizard, a spray of red shooting up into the air and immediately covering his blue robes as he felt to the ground in convulsions. And before either woman could react, the Griffin turned its mighty body towards them…mouth opening in a roar as its large wings propelled it forward. The percussion of the roar reverberated in Hermione's bones and for a moment, she didn't know how in Merlin's beard they were going to defeat a Griffin the size of a horntailed dragon.

"Stop." Minerva breathed out, raising her arms to the sky, "And get behind me."

Hermione did what she was told, "What are you doing?"

"Shhh." Minerva snapped and closed her eyes concentrating and then Hermione felt a pulse ripple through her feet and a jet of turquoise rose towards the Griffin in the sky.

The Griffin slowed to a stop, his golden eyes narrowing as his broad chest breathed in deeply, his wings beating against the sky…holding him still and then at once jerked his head back and towards the other wizards. "What was that?" Hermione asked in wonderment.

"Magical signature." Minerva said sprinting forward.

The rest of her questions would have to wait as the wizards divided their attention between the Griffin and them, bolts whizzing by their heads. Minerva moved as the wind, weaving in and out of the fray…as though a predator stalking her prey, and within a few moments, only two remained standing.

"Whatever Johannes has promised you, I can assure you it will not come to pass." Minerva's voice ringing across the grass.

"He will defeat you." Came the stout reply. "Whether through action or deed, you are not impregnable nor invincible. You will fall as will your precious Hogwarts." The wizard raised his wand and fell backwards, petrified…from Hermione's spell.

The other wizard reached out, collapsed and with a thunderous clap was gone, taking the man Hermione had petrified and the other living one with him via portkey.

"Damn." Hermione muttered, running over to where he had fallen. They had been so close to capturing one of them, alive. Turning, she noticed all the color was gone from Minerva's face. "Are you alright?"

Minerva nodded, eyes drooping. "Yes." She breathed, "Go…Wilhemenia."

Hermione didn't know whether to leave the Headmistress, but upon seeing her expression, immediately set off to find her previous Care of Magical Creatures professor. She could hear the Griffin's solid body land behind her, fear at what the large beast could do should it believe they` were there to hurt Wilhemenia.

Hermione quickly scanned the home, the outer building, the barn…and then she found her…sandy brown hair matted with blood, right side of her cheek sunken in, and Hermione was almost afraid to lean forward to see if she was indeed alive.

With shaking fingers, Hermione checked for a pulse…and found a strong one beating against her skin. Feeling the pressure against her, Wilhemenia moaned and her eyes fluttered open. "…o…?"

"I'm Hermione We….Granger." Hermione corrected mid-sentence, "Minerva McGonagall and I are here."

"…nerva's here?" She croaked out, struggling to sit up. "She…can't, needs to go…"

"Easy." Hermione said, placing her hand upon the witch. "We need to get you to St. Mungos."

Wilhemenia shook her head, eyes the size of bludgers. "No…get Minerva." She wheezed. "Need to talk to her."

Hermione opened her mouth, but again Wilhemenia shook her head and mouthed Minerva.

At once Hermione stood and swung around, and felt all the air leave her lungs as the mighty Griffin's large mouth sunk its teeth into Minerva's shoulder. Tears were already dripping from her eyes as she yelled, "NO!" Her wand sliding down her sleeve, into her fingers...as she ran forward, tears blurring her vision…

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Minerva met Rioblo's golden gaze, his magical words dancing in the air between them. _You are not as you once were, green-eyed. There is magic that is not yours coursing through you, sustaining you._

Minerva barely had the energy to feign a smile. "A lot has changed since I last saw you." She breathed out, pain rippling down her wand arm from a combination of a curse that had struck her shoulder and the burning use of her magic. "You have become a beautiful Griffin."

_And my witch, will she live?_

"The woman with me, she is tending to her." Minerva swaying with the breeze before a large paw wrapped around her waist, staying her.

_She is a brave one. _

"What happened, Rioblo?"

_I know not, only that she was under attack upon my arrival._ His voice paused as her legs buckled. _You are not well, the wound in your shoulder grows, poison leeching into your system. It would be an honor for me to ease your pain._

"I will be fine…" She murmured, "It is merely fatigue and an old wound that is leeching my magic, it is beyond your skills Rioblo."

_Magic can be healed with magic and therefore within my skill._ He leaned forward, sniffing her arm and then his soft voice said, _Do not move._

"I shall be…" The words stopped in her throat as his large mouth opened, and Minerva felt her heart hammering in her chest as he closed his mouth upon her shoulder. At first she could just feel the pressure of his mouth closing, and then tears sprang into her eyes as his teeth sunk into through her skin and into her muscle and sinew. "Ahhh…" She groaned, pain erupting through her as a distant scream reverberated through her skin as she weakly thought, _Hermione._

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A spell was on her lips to cast at the Griffin when the ground rushed up to greet her, her feet no longer beneath her.

"Do..n't." Wilhemenia breathed laboriously as her trembling hand fell to her side and she staggered backwards into the building. "Great…honor." She said nodding toward Rioblo and Minerva. "Healed…by a Griffin."

"Healed?!" Hermione shrieked, as her eyes snapped to the scene, a trail of red running down Minerva's emerald robes. "He's killing her."

As if in response, Rioblo's body began glowing the color of his amber eyes…as did Minerva's shoulder...her arm…her fingers…

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The pain began to dissipate in her shoulder, down her arm, fingers…and then the ache deep within her chest began to ease, as did the fatigue. Blinking up at him, his golden body glowing…she reached up with her left arm and gently touched the underside of his jaw. "It is better, Rioblo." She whispered.

Slowly, almost painfully, he opened his eyes and then regretfully he pulled his mouth from her shoulder. _The source of your wound lies in another plane beyond my skills. I am truly sorry, green-eyed._

"Don't be, the pain has subsided." She said as her fingers gently slid down his mane. "Thank you."

_It is I who thank you for your intervention. _His deep voice almost purring, _Can you please see the mortal wounds of my witch are healed?_

"Yes." She replied, "She is a good friend."

_Yes, you both are good witches._ He stretched his wings out, _As is the other, good day Minerva of the Hogwarts._

"Until we meet again, Rioblo." She whispered as he took flight, the soft rays of twilight glinting off his mane. She watched him for a moment more, before turning to see the other two witches starring at her. "Wilhemenia…" She said, her wand immediately morphing into her walking stick as she began walking forward, a wince briefly passing over her face as she did. _I have been far too active today_, she thought, feeling her hip pull in fatigue. "We need to get you to St. Mungos."

"I…" Wilhemenia took in a rattling breath, "Need to talk…to you."

Hermione watched as Minerva drew up, face softening…as she leaned down, hand reaching out and gently touching Wilhemenia's forearm. "I'm here, dear. Now, what is it?"

"They wished…" Her eyes slid to Hermione, "…I can't…with…her…"

Minerva's jaw rippled, knowing that though she had made a choice to include Hermione…but that also meant, that she had to actually include her. And there were things that she would have to let Hermione know…which could and would complicate her life…immeasurably. "You can trust her, Wilhemenia. Go ahead."

"Regarding…Hogwarts…"

Minerva nodded, "I know, but it's alright. Go ahead, we need to get you moved to St. Mungos."

"They wanted to know…" A low whistle was now lacing her words as she continued on. "Where the Centaurs lived in…," She tightened her jaw, face pinching as she took another breath. "The unicorn fields, and…if there were any passages leading past the wards."

"Was there anything else?" Minerva asked as she gently waved her hand, subtlety casting a simple diagnostic spell on her.

"Want knowledge of a filly and gilding…"

"Did they say why?" Minerva watched the lights shift, and knew they needed to move her at once.

She gently shook her head, "No, just want…in…"

"Alright, dear." She whispered, gently patting her hand. "I won't let anything happen…"

Wilhemenia's face relaxed at Minerva's words. "I…know."

"Now, I need to get you to St. Mungos. I promised Rioblo that I'd take care of you."

"You still…hear him?" Her eye cracked open, "Always…envied…" And then her head lulled to the side as she passed out unconscious.

"We need to move." Minerva said standing, "The wards stretch out for another three hundred paces."

Hermione whipped her wand out, immobilizing her old professor and casting a mobilicorpus spell…both women speeding back the way they had come. "How's your arm?"

"Better." Minerva replied, trying to ignore the ache burning in her hip.

"When I saw the Griffin…"

"His name is Rioblo." She interjected.

"Right," Hermione said, "I thought he was going to devour you."

"Nonsense, at least once he recognized who I was." Minerva involuntarily winced as she stepped. "I saved him as a cub, brought him to Wilhemenia to care for. He's grown into a beautiful Griffin."

"You are alright then?" Hermione's eyes gravitating to Minerva's blood stained arm.

"It's a bit sore, but otherwise…I shall live."

"What did he do to you?"

"He countered the curse that struck my shoulder. As I'm sure you recall a Griffin has the ability to heal any magical ailments should they choose."

"And you speak to him?" Hermione shifted Wilhemenia around a pile of rocks.

"Thanks to my animagus state, yes."

"Are there any other animals or creatures you are able to talk with?" Curiosity pulsing through Hermione and the daunting reminder of how little she knew of the woman beside her.

"Perhaps." Minerva replied. "One or two others."

"You aren't going to tell me, are you?"

"Not likely." Minerva felt a tingle tickle up her spine. "There are some secrets that no one knows." She paused, turning to Hermione. "We are outside the wards." She walked forward, but Hermione had already stepped up to Wilhemenia with hand around her arm.

"You've already apparated us twice…I'll take us to St. Mungos." Hermione said reaching her other hand out to Minerva.

The emerald clad witch raised her brow, but said nothing and merely extended her hand outward, tamping down the pervasive feeling of helplessness that swept through her as Hermione's fingers wrapped around her own. It had been years since someone…actually, anyone had apparated her somewhere. Not since…Albus…and at that thought, she felt Hermione's magic sweeping over her.

It was comfortable…warm…and as the landscape melted away, Minerva felt a moment of safety course through her veins. The stillness was gone in the next heartbeat as the marble walls of St. Mungos and the thrum of the medical center snapped into focus.

As soon as they landed upon the marble floors, a flood of healers came descending upon them. Minerva could hear one healer immediately contacting Helena upon recognizing her. In less than a minute, Helena's distinctive gait echoed across the marble.

Minerva turned her head as her friend rounded the corner. "I need to get…" Helena met Minerva's gaze and felt a measure of relief sweep through her at seeing Minerva standing, but then her eyes noticed the large dark stain upon Minerva's shoulder.

"I'm fine." Minerva said nearing the Head Administrator.

"Your shoulder says otherwise." Helena retorted eyes burning into Minerva's green ones. "And you…" She snapped her head around to Hermione, "I thought I said…"

"She's fine." Hermione confirmed, "Healed by a Griffin."

A dubious look passed over Helena's face as she searched the younger witch's eyes. "A Griffin?"

"Wilhemenia's." Minerva nodded toward the witch surrounded by healers.

Helena's voice dropped to a faint whisper, "And should I ask what the two of you were doing there that would necessitate a Griffin's healing ability for your wounds Minerva and a healer for Wilhemenia's?"

"Visiting a friend." Minerva replied.

Helena narrowed her eyes at Minerva's reasoning, but as she opened her mouth to rebuke Minerva's flimsy statement…Kingsley's imposing form appeared next to Minerva. Helena could feel every hair rise on her back as she noticed the set of his jaw, the fury within his eyes…and as her eyes glanced over to Minerva…she truly wished she were elsewhere so she would not have to witness the fireworks about to take place.

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Minerva could feel his magic before she turned around and took a scant moment to collect her thoughts.

"I specifically told you…" Kingsley drew to a stop about five paces away, "Not to get involved."

The mere cadence of his voice gave Minerva all the resolve she required, her jaw set as she turned around. "Involved?"

Hermione could almost see the fire jump from Minerva's eyes at Kingsley's comment and as the Minister and Headmistress squared off…she and Helena drew closer together, not wanting to be caught in the middle of the warring factions.

"As I stated last eve, this is Ministry business."

"Truly, Minister?" She clipped, "As I recall, the Ministry wanted nothing to do with Johannes…"

"These kidnappings have nothing to do with him!" His voice breaking in his rage.

"Wilhemenia is fighting for her life because of your pompous arrogance and unwillingness to admit the truth staring blindly in your face."

"Truth, is that you blatantly disregard Ministry decrees put in place for your protection."

"What am I being protected against, Minister?! You, yourself have stated that we needn't worry."

"The general populace is not in danger, but you are because of your personal vendetta..."

"Personal…" Her voice was low, containing an edge that stopped even Kingsley's words. "You say."

A row of windows shattered along the eastern side, Hermione could feel the waves of magic rippling from Minerva…her anger palatable.

"Enough!" Helena bellowed, unable to watch the scene deteriorate farther. "This is a hospital. Take your arguments elsewhere!"

Kingsley turned to Helena, rage burning in his brown eyes. "I wish to speak to your patient…"

"I don't care what you want Minister." Frost lacing Helena's voice, "Nor you Headmistress. Leave. You are both endangering this woman's life. And as for questioning her, when she feels better, I shall leave it to her as to who can and cannot question her. Is that understood?"

Minerva gave Helena a curt nod, "My apologies, Madame Harrison."

Hermione had never heard such formalities between the two women and forced her mouth not to gape.

"Headmistress." Helena replied in kind as Minerva swept past the Administrator.

"Hermione," Minerva said, her robes billowing around her. "Time to leave."

"Minerva." Kingsley's voice was harsh, but quiet. Minerva stopped three paces to the other side, "Your arm."

"Shall be healed at Hogwarts, my business here is done." Minerva didn't bother to look back as her boots and walking stick clipped elegantly across the marbled floor, the younger witch and her midnight blue robes quietly trailing behind her.

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Tiredly Minerva pulled her hand from Hermione, "Thank you for coming with me this evening."

"Do I need to summon Poppy for your arm?" Hermione asked staving off a yawn.

"No, it is fine." Minerva replied and waved her hand over her shoulder, the material falling away to reveal a piece of slightly red and marred skin, nothing more.

Hermione stepped closer, mildly in awe as her eyes took in the creamy, rose colored flesh. Her fingers gently reaching up, touching the skin…it wasn't feverish, the marks mere scabs…

Minerva turned her head away from Hermione, closing her eyes as light fingers danced across her tender shoulder. Finally after a minute of pushing along her bone, Minerva broke the stillness. "Despite appearances, it remains quite sore."

At once, Hermione pulled her hands away. "Sorry. I just can't believe…"

Minerva smiled at the younger woman, "Magic, dear." Her eyes drifting past Hermione and settling on the clock. It was already nearing 9 and she still had to meet with Filius and contact Helena after for an update regarding Wilhemenia.

"And Wilhemenia, when will you know the extent of her condition?"

"Within the hour, I shall have Milksy bring you word as soon as I know."

The rest of their conversation ended as Minerva glanced up, the door to her study opening. "Minerva…" Filius nodded to Hermione, "I need to speak with you at once."

Hermione turned from Filius back to Minerva, "Please get some rest Minerva, you still look quite fatigued."

"As do you, Hermione." Minerva replied with a gentle glance before turning to Filius, a mask falling over her face as she waited for what news was to greet her within moments.

"Good night, Filius." Hermione uttered as she tiredly stepped through the door and into the Gargoyle statue her mind on the Headmistress and her apparent endless stamina. She had been tired before her afternoon classes, circles under her eyes and pale skin and that had been almost eight hours prior.

The Gargoyle scraped open, Hermione stepping out…as she recounted the events of the last several hours which had completely drained every ounce of energy from her, and she didn't have to listen for who knew how long to the Deputy of Hogwarts nor speak with the Administrator of St. Mungos before she could crawl into bed…which she intended to do as soon as she climbed another sets of steps.

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Minerva didn't even wait for the flames from the floo to extinguish from Helena's brief visit as she sat back down onto the sofa…her head already falling backwards onto the arm, eyes closing…

Thankful for a moment of quiet and reprieve from the last several days…

"Albus…" She mumbled.

"Yes, my dear." He said, heart breaking as the rose hue drained from her face, the ashen color taking up its usual place.

"I need to be up by four."

"Surely, Minerva..." Several of the portraits began to interject their views.

"He sought knowledge of the unicorn fields, looking for a filly…" She quietly stated, her breathing deepening as sleep claimed her and her muscles slackened.

The portraits quietly watched the formidable woman for countless minutes before Dily's broke the silence. "How much longer can she continue at this pace?"

Severus shook his greasy head, "I have never seen her look as drawn as she does."

"Nor her skin as pale." Armando reaffirmed.

"Nor as broken." Albus' voice barely a whisper as he starred lovingly at his wife.

Severus turned to Albus, "She's strong, Albus. She'll survive long enough to see that the job is done."

Albus lifted his blue gaze to meet Severus, "That's what frightens me."

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_A/N: The plot thickens and the story has just about run its course on introductions, and we will see it move forward…in leaps and bounds and at a snail's pace simultaneously. We have one more chapter in this month, which like the previous one, will have 2 days bulleted out before moving into October; which at this juncture has 11 days/chapters sketched out. Thank you for your kind reviews, they do help to keep me motivated :)_

_p.s. Sorry this didn't get uploaded on Friday; tried all weekend the FFnet site is finally being cooperative :)_


	18. Chapter 17 September 24th, 2009

**Chapter 17 ~ September 24****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

Tiredly, Minerva stepped from the Forbidden Forest as the first rays of sun came across the lake, glinting off the opaque water. Leisurely, she strode forward, feeling the northern wind's cool breeze brush across her face.

It had already been a long and fruitless morning, as the bulk of the Unicorn herd were still on the move and had not begun settling in their primary fields within the heart of the Great Forest. She had spoken with Frienze on her way back from the fields, and asked when their next gathering would be held.

_"October 3__rd__." His warm timber responded. "But even you will be unwelcome, Minerva. It is to honor our young."_

_"It is of great import that I be allowed to speak."_

_His brow tightened in thought, and finally he shook his head. "It is of no matter, it cannot be done on that day."_

_"Then you must pass on a message." He gave an imperceptible nod, "A wizard comes to the forest seeking to take one of your gildings."_

_"How dare…!" Just the notion had caused Frienze to rear upon his back legs, "To do so would insight a fuvor…"_

_"He wishes to take that which he believes will collapse the wards of Hogwarts."_

_"You know of this…" He spat the word from his mouth, "Man."_

_Sadly Minerva shook her head, "He was my daughter's mate."_

_Face turning grave, "And he has turned ill?"_

_"He killed my daughter and now seeks to immortalize his soul."_

_Golden eyes swept over her, "And what of the unicorns?"_

_"I have just come from the inner fields, they are not within."_

_"They have heard the rustlings within the Forest, and are skittish of late. There scent lies to the north."_

_Minerva nodded, "I know, I will travel there in the coming days."_

_"Be careful, Minerva. The path to the north remains laden with danger."_

_"As does the world beyond the Tree line."_

_Frienze nodded, "Then, I shall vouch for you on the third, but take heart that they will measure the truth behind your words."_

_Minerva fought off a shiver, not wanting to dwell on how the Centaurs would measure the truth in her words. She had been forced to partake in a ceremony once before with Albus, and she had sworn then and there she would never willingly submit to Centaur magic again…"I must ask that a witch be allowed to accompany me."_

_Frienze balked, "I cannot…"_

_"My magic wanes with the sun and I shall be unable to return to Hogwarts."_

_"You must find a way." His voice almost pleading, "To bring you to a gathering of ascension will be of great insult, and you are held in high esteem within my people."_

_Minerva met his gaze with her own, "I am dying Frienze."_

_"The fall of Venus." He murmured, "In Jupiter's wake."_

_Minerva ignored his references and continued on, "And she is becoming the light beneath my feet until I can no longer walk."_

_"Do you vouch for her?"_

_Minerva nodded, "With my life."_

_"Very well." His baritone voice dropping, "She must remain quiet and when within the gathering – blindfolded and wandless."_

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Hermione pulled the blanket about her shoulders a bit more, the wind was cool this morning. In the month since her arrival, Hermione had slowly discovered that she had a new fondness for sunrises. Perhaps it was the breathtaking view or the enchanting streams of rainbows glinting off the morning dew, however…if truth be told of late, it was the moment of solitude before the onset of the day.

A rustle of paper along the wall, caused Hermione to glance away from the enchanting picturesque view and at her latest set of drawings from Rose and Hugo sent yesterday morning. They would be returning to the castle tomorrow evening for the weekend, and both she and they were excited. She just hoped that this weekend, when Sunday evening rolled around, they would be more willing to return to their father.

_"I don't want to leave, mum." Rose said, brown hair blowing in the breeze._

_"I know dear, but we spoke about this." Hermione replied, gazing sadly into her daughter's teary eyes._

_"It's not the same with dad."_

_Hugo shook his red head, "Mum no leave." He said, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran into her leg and squeezed, unwilling to let go._

She had cried herself to sleep that night, and several more following it…the only consolation was that the days were quickly ticking by and she would see her two children, tomorrow. However, if things with Ron didn't improve, she would find a way, perhaps after the Holidays, and move the children into Hogwarts with her during the week and have them visit Ron every other weekend. She was sure that her dueling practice with Filius and Minerva would be concluded, freeing up a considerable amount of her time, as Minerva seemed rarely to leave the castle…

With a contented sigh, she turned back to the landscape and her eyes immediately noticing an abnormality. A figure…tall, shrouded in a dark cloak step from the Forest as the morning light began breaking over the sky. Her first thought was to run to the Headmistress, concerned there was an intruder upon the grounds, but then she noticed the steady gait, regal posture…and then the pointed, yet distinct hat tipped just to the side.

The figure was indeed, the very woman she would have been searching for. She watched as Minerva strode away from the edge of the Forest, stopping in front of the lake…peering into its depths.

_What had she been in the Forest searching for before daybreak?_ Hermione wondered, _And why did she go alone?_

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"You are up rather early this morning." Hermione's voice breaking Minerva's thoughts as she glided up next to the Headmistress, steam billowing off the lake, muting the sun's rays upon the water. "And from the bottom of your robes, I'd wager you've been up for some time."

Absently, Minerva nodded. "Yes." She said, gaze remaining focused elsewhere. "I had to go into the Forest."

"I surmised as much." Hermione stated, eyes gazing into the morning light. "Did you get any sleep last eve?"

"A short respite." Came Minerva's quiet reply, her mind still replaying Frienze's words.

Hermione cast a sidelong glance at Minerva, exhaustion still evident upon her face. "That isn't enough."

"True." Minerva finally pulled mind to the present, "But that is all I have time for." She turned to the side, facing Hermione. "I received an update from Helena this morning, Wilhemenia will make a complete recovery."

"Excellent." Hermione felt a wave of relief, at least something good came out of yesterday, "Will she be able to alter the Minister's stance?"

"I don't know." The cadence of Minerva's voice soft, "But I am filled with doubt."

"Surely he won't rebuke her statement." Hermione couldn't believe Kingsley would continue to ignore the facts.

"No, he won't." Minerva simply stated, "He'll just infer that she wouldn't have been injured if she were not my friend."

Hermione groaned, "We've moved pass the personal vendetta, now it is a vendetta through association. Why bother…"

"He's afraid." Minerva said, head turning back to the lake. "Of what he can't stop."

"But it would be easier if he admitted that there is a threat." Hermione rebuked.

"Initially, yes." Minerva's voice barely grazing Hermione's ears. "But, to admit something openly, necessitates progress. Arrests have to be made, people detained for questioning…slowly the threat has to be minimized."

"Are you saying that he agrees with you, and your hostility with the Ministry is a farce?" Hermione asked, dumbfounded.

"No." Minerva chuckled, "I am not happy with Kingsley nor he with me. But, at this juncture, he cannot openly admit to a threat without concrete proof and once admitted, the public will desire results."

"So why do you persist to engage him?"

Minerva slowly brought her emerald eyes to Hermione. "Because he is wrong, and he and I both know he is."

An owl chirped above, spiraling downward both Hermione and Minerva immediately recognized the snowy white bird, Huron, the Potter's owl. Minerva lifted her elbow, Huron immediately landed, dropping the small parchment from its mouth and into her hand. "I'm sorry, Huron, I haven't any treats for you."

Huron tilted his head to the side, gave a warm trill and then spread his wings and took off. Minerva lowered her arm, finger sliding and popping the wax seal as she spread open the parchment.

_Minerva, _

_Draco sent word this morning that an attack had been thwarted, upsetting Johannes' timetable as the public will undoubtedly be informed and the Ministry will have to willingly take part. He also reported that Johannes has begun to seek eight magical creatures. _

_He stated that he would inquire further, but his source was becoming jittery of their meetings. He is seeking alternative avenues of information._

_Kingsley has issued a memo that all aurors and ministry officials are not to speak with you. To do so, even in an official capacity will result in immediate dismissal. You are to be referred to the Minister for any and all questions._

_I shall see you at the Order meeting, until then, please remain safe._

_All my best,_

_Harry_

Minerva re-read the parchment and then let her arms fall to the side of her body. For a moment she dithered on whether to permit Hermione to read the letter or merely burn it. She opted for the former, though it would again mean…more questions.

Hermione took the letter, quickly scanning the contents. She had known that Draco was working with Harry to procure information, but what in blazes was he referring about shredding the wards. Regarding Kingsley, she wondered how much longer until he and Minerva were no longer speaking.

"Eight creatures?" Hermione asked, glancing up.

"Are you done?" Minerva nodded to the parchment.

"Huh…yes." Hermione said handing the letter back to the Headmistress who immediately set fire to the document.

"There is a book that talks about Hogwarts' warding, the ward structure, the latticework of the warding, and ways to collapse the wards."

"Collapse? I thought that was impossible."

Minerva shook her head, "Not according to the author. There are three ways to do this, one is through the Head of Hogwarts and the Deputy; another through an inner chamber of Hogwarts which I have come to believe means the Heart of Hogwarts and the third is through the culmination of eight magical creatures."

"How would that destroy the wards, most creatures magical aptitude is far less than a small child?"

"Most, is correct, however, it suggests eight of the strongest magical creatures known to exist. A Dragon, phoenix, griffin, unicorn, centaur, sphinx, chimera, and a merperson."

"There would be no way a witch or wizard would be able to collect those creatures."

"Especially the blood from their young."

"And if he does, what then?"

"I hope we never have to find out." Minerva shuddered at the notion of the warding latticework collapsing, "As the foundation of the school would become unstable and potentially give way."

"Who was the author?" Hermione inquired, immediately following up. "Someone credible?"

Minerva couldn't stop the smile from momentarily pulling up at the corner of her lips at Hermione's flawless logic. "In my humble opinion, Godric Gryffindor, co-authored with Rowena Ravenclaw would be fairly credible."

Hermione opened her mouth, to say something but couldn't. Nothing wanted to come out. Surely, she had known that some of the original Founders of Hogwarts books would be here at the school, she had just never seen them. They must have been in the professor's restricted section, located in ancillary lounge. A small private library that contained countless original print books regarding all fields of study within Hogwarts. A set of books, she was anxious to have time to cull through. "And this can be found in the ancillary library."

"No," Minerva said, shaking her head. "It is not a book within the Hogwarts collection."

"Then how…" Hermione stopped, eyes growing wide in realization. "It's one from your personal collection."

"Yes."

"And he read…"

"Mistress." Elgin's voice breaking their conversation, "You'se asked to be informed when Miss Tessa and Mr. Percival arrived."

"Thank you, Elgin. I shall return, momentarily." An audible sigh slipped from Minerva's lips as the notion of dealing with her children first thing this morning regarding a foolish and what amounted to rather petty topic.

"Mistress being eating in her rooms?" Elgin asked, knowing that she had yet to even have her morning tea.

"Some tea and a few scones would be lovely." Minerva said, eyes scanning the horizon and soft mist from the lake as Elgin vanished, and she turned back to the castle, Hermione falling into step beside her.

"When Percival said this morning, he meant early…"

"I'm sure he would have rather had meet prior to sunrise, but I have been away from the castle and grounds, therefore my floo is disconnected from the network until my return."

"Forgive me for saying, but I fail to see the relevancy behind their argument. You are merely asking them to carry a preset portkey, correct?"

"Yes," The corner of Minerva's eyes crinkled, "And I too fail to understand, but I shall be relegated to listening to them for at least the next half hour as they enlighten me on their reasons."

A smile split Hermione's lips as she visualized Minerva sitting in her study, attentively listening to her children, "And am I to presume that you have no intention of changing your mind, do you?"

"None what so ever." Minerva said as they stepped onto the main walkway to the castle.

A rich chuckle spilled from Hermione's lips, "This is what I have to look forward to as a mother?"

Minerva permitted a conspiratorial smile to curl her lips, "And so much more."

"I shall try to keep that in mind."

"Speaking of children, how are Hugo and Rose?" Minerva slowed as she came to the flagstone steps before the Great Oak door.

"Doing well and causing Ron to pull out his hair."

Minerva had noticed the dimming of light behind Hermione's eyes. "You miss them."

"Very much." She replied without hesitation.

"And from the frequent owls, I would assume they miss you." Minerva could feel her heart clench at what the woman before her was going through.

"Yes." Hermione said, trying to keep the tears at bay, "They sent a series of drawings yesterday."

"The offer remains, Hermione. They are most welcome to live here, and not merely visit every other weekend."

Hermione allowed a tender smile to cross her lips, "As much as it pains me, I wish to leave the arrangements as they are…" Minerva went to interrupt but Hermione continued on, "At least until the Holidays. It will enable me to finish becoming acclimated to life as a Professor and force Ron to be more of a father in the process."

Minerva knew there was more beneath her actions than she would utter, "Very well." She replied, "However, our dueling practices will not interfere should you choose to alter your timetable."

Hermione unknowingly took the bait cast by Minerva. "I do not see how I could watch my children and…"

Hermione's voice trailed off as she realized what she had just voiced. "If you want your children here, Hermione we will make accommodations."

"But you…" Hermione could see and feel the imperceptible wall beginning to form around the Headmistress, "Will not continue to train me."

Minerva hated herself for it, but knew that she could not be dishonest to the woman before her. "No. I would not."

"And will you begin training another person in my steed?" Hermione asked, searching for the true answer behind those emerald eyes, but she only encountered the impregnable mask that the woman could deftly hide behind.

"Hermione, I have opted to train you, not to place you at risk of injury including that of an emotional one nor at the expense of your family's stability. I cannot answer your question, as I will not in any way pressure you nor wish to influence your decision."

"After the little bit I have seen, you need someone…" Hermione began.

"I need whoever goes with me to be whole and balanced, Hermione. Not scattered and lost. Nor do I wish to feel anymore guilt than already swells in my breast at having to ask for help, when I learn that the help given to me is at a cost burdened upon children and a mother's hardship."

"Helping you is not a burden, Minerva."

"But ripping your family apart is one to me, Hermione." Minerva's soft voice laden with pain.

"Minerva, I…" Hermione began shaking her head, "You are not ripping anything apart. This is between Ron and I."

"It is." Minerva agreed, "But you do not feel he is doing an adequate job, the truth lies within your eyes, your mannerisms, the way you drift out after receiving a letter from your children – a mixture of wistfulness and guilt. You feel as though you have abandoned them to Ron, and after their last visit you don't know if it was or is the right decision. Nor do you feel as though you are able to make changes, for instance, bring them to Hogwarts because of your commitment to me."

"I…"

Minerva shook her head, an edge lacing her words as she continued on. "Visit with Rose and Hugo this weekend and make a decision based upon what is best for you _and_ the children. No one else."

"But what of you, who will help…?"

"Leave me to me, Hermione." Minerva responded, "Take the weekend and figure out what is best for you."

Hermione turned to Minerva, whose was already half way through the entry doors. "This isn't about choice Minerva."

Minerva paused, glancing down over her shoulder at Hermione. "I never said it was, Hermione. It's about regret and resentment and I have little time for either, Professor. May your classes pass smoothly today."

Hermione never had the opportunity to rebuke her words, as the emerald clad robes disappeared into the castle obscured from view. Hermione knew better than try and catch the Headmistress, she was like the wind…unable to be caught, unless it so desired.

Hermione could hear the distant clatter from the Great Hall, and found herself absently walking towards the sound. Her stomach guiding her steps as her mind processed the truth ringing from Minerva's words…and the looming decisions she needed to make. Decisions not based in anything but what was best for her and her children.

_And how in the hell did Minerva expect her to do that, after the personal investment already put in? The time, energy…but Minerva was right_, she thought as her fingers curled around the staff entrance into the Great Hall. _ She did harbor some regret for her decisions, and she was beginning to resent Hogwarts and Minerva for being away from her children._ She yanked open the sturdy oak door, sounds of chatter flooding her senses. She allowed the students laughter to lift her spirits as she ambled forward. _She would wait, see how the weekend went with the children and then make a decision,_ she thought pulling out her chair.

"Get up a bit late this morning?" Sinistra asked, chiding her usually prompt and early colleague.

"No." Hermione reached over pouring herself a cup of coffee, "Had a few things on my mind."

Sinistra smiled, "Ahh, yes, the children will be visiting this weekend, won't they?"

Eckel, Ron's owl, took that opportunity to land upon the table and lay a parchment in front of Hermione, who in turn gave him a chunk of bacon. "Don't tell Ron." She said conspiratorially to Eckel, who chirped happily and flew away.

Her fingers opened the parchment; smile lighting her eyes at her daughter and son's notes saying they couldn't wait to visit. And she found herself wondering…

_How do you say no to Minerva McGonagall and not regret that too?_

**September 27****th****, 2009 (Sunday evening)**

Hermione stepped onto the Gargoyle and after the five seconds went to walk toward the door, but it failed to open as it continued to grind and move upward for another five before slowly spinning open to reveal a weathered wormy chestnut door. Frowning, at the foreign door and wondering where she was, Hermione reached out, and opened the door, the latch mechanism clicking and then the door creaking open.

The room was spacious, a living or common room with lush ivory, rich greens and blues accenting the area. A walnut curio cabinet hugged a curved wall, couches and chairs formed a comfortable circle with a spindly, carved table resting between them. Two thin tapestries were draped between the three doors to the left, and on the wall opposite of the curio cabinet were two bookshelves with ancient leather volumes calling for Hermione to come a bit closer, a fireplace nestled between them and a large scenic view of a house nestled along a ridge... At once, she noticed another two doors on either side of the bookshelves, before she noticed the brass balcony…with winding stairs downward…

Realization striking at once, she was in Minerva's private chambers.

A rustle of movement caused Hermione to jerk her head over in time to see Minerva stepping from a door on the left and suddenly felt awful for calling on the Headmistress at this hour. Her attire or lack there of of formal robes, as she was wearing just thin emerald inner, sleeveless robes in combination with slippers for shoes versus her normal black boots, and hair in a thick braid down her back, glasses in her hand as she stepped into her living space.

"I'm sorry…" Hermione began rambling, "It's late, it can wait until tomorrow." She said beginning to back up.

Minerva smiled at the younger woman, "I was still awake, and I doubt you would have come without reason." She motioned to the furniture. "Please."

Uneasily, Hermione stepped forward, "Are you sure?"

Minerva nodded as she herself sat, slipping her glasses back on. "Quite." She waited for Hermione to sit, stilling her own nerves. She had hoped to speak with Hermione tomorrow on the topic that the woman invariably was there to discuss. Several times throughout the weekend, Minerva took the opportunity to frequent the north lawn in her animagus state. And as of this afternoon, she had come to the harsh reality that Hermione would be asking her to allow the children to move into Hogwarts and she would either have to begin training a replacement or try and finish it, alone.

She was leaning heavily towards the latter, not knowing how she would find time to begin training someone else. She couldn't wait for another two months to train the rudimentary skills of dueling, she didn't have that kind of time. She needed to begin leaving Hogwarts before she could no longer do what she needed, bring Johannes to his knees and an end to the growing madness.

"I have come to a decision regarding our discussion this past Thursday and wanted to inform you." Hermione said, fingers absently picking at the hem of her robes.

Minerva steeled her resolve, maintaining a neutral expression as her stomach dropped. The time was upon her, she would lose, yet again, another ally. "Then this weekend with your children solidified your decision."

"Very much." Hermione replied, swallowing hard. Truthfully, she had thought of little else this past weekend other than the decision looming before her. And as the seconds ticked by into minutes and slipped into days…the startling truth became glaringly apparent. Now, she just had to share it with Minerva. "And I truly hope you will understand."

Minerva's throat tightened as she ground out the words, "Of course, as I said before, it remains and always will be your choice."

"This wasn't a matter of choice, Minerva." She said, "As much as I wish it were."

Minerva felt a measure of relief, knowing that Hermione's spirits would be immeasurably lighter with her children here at the castle. "When will they be coming?"

"Two weeks." Hermione said, but expanded knowing that Minerva would infer that the time frame spoken was how long it would be before her children would be moving to Hogwarts to live with her. "For their bi-weekly visit."

Minerva had opened her mouth to say how lovely that was, and how she would stop by to see them…but no words came out after Hermione's final comment. Her brain momentarily stunned. Finally, she responded, "Bi-weekly. Perhaps I heard you wrong."

Were the situation in a different setting and of a different topic, and were she not the one having the discussion…Minerva's perplexed look would have been humorous. However, none of the aforementioned was the case as Hermione's own heart pounded in her ears. "I thought long and weighed my options carefully, and I am going to assist you until Johannes is captured or dead."

Minerva shook her head, "I cannot allow that, Hermione. I know that your children…"

"Don't…" Hermione said, voice becoming hard. "You don't know…"

"I know that you'll regret your decision…"

"No…" Hermione's voice rising, "That's where you're wrong. I'm not like Molly." She cleared her throat, hating herself for uttering the words. It made her feel like less of a mother, but it was never the less, the truth. "My kids may be an integral part of my life, but they do not define who I am. Nor will I lose myself and all that I am by not being true to my principles."

"I have seen you with Rose and Hugo, Hermione, they are you…their happiness defines your happiness."

"True, they do, but I want to live too." Hermione's admittance was quiet, heart wrenching. "I love to learn, and this past month has been the first time in years that I have had the opportunity to do something other than take care of my children. For years, I have permitted myself to be locked behind other's expectations, squelching my thirst for knowledge, desire to be free, while Ron was able to continue doing what he wished – fighting wrongs as was Harry…and I have been relegated into the traditional role of a woman." Hermione felt a tear slide down her cheek, "Perhaps that makes me a woeful mother, but it is the truth."

"You are not a woeful mother, Hermione." Minerva said tears in her eyes. "But I cannot allow you to make a decision based upon years of regret regarding your marriage with Ron…"

"This isn't about what you think best, or the world, or my previous husband…" Hermione jumped from the sofa, arms swinging wildly. "Don't you understand," She turned to Minerva, her fingers curling around the back of the sofa as she leaned forward. "This is what I want." Her voice breaking. "People are dying, Hogwarts is being threatened, how can I in good conscious not want to make a stand? I want to make a difference, again."

"And your children?" Minerva asked, wanting to be sure.

"As I said, Ron needs the practice and I will see them every other week, God willing." She said.

"If you change your mind…" Minerva began as she stood.

"If I do," Hermione straightened up, "You'll be the first to know. Besides…" She said, a hint of smile crossing her face, "Who else would you have found to partake in your exploits on such short notice?"

Minerva walked around the sofa, "I would have managed." She replied.

Hermione met the Headmistress' gaze, "The stakes are too high to just manage, Minerva. You need help."

Less than four feet separated the two witches. Both women staring at the other, as Minerva absorbed Hermione's words. She would die, that much was certain; the only unknown variables were how, when, and if Johannes would arrive at the crossroads first. To accomplish that, she did need help. She did not have the stamina to fight alone, and win. "I do, but I only accept that if you ever need to leave…"

Hermione shook her head, "I won't."

Emerald and brown measuring the other, and in doing so, the nature of their friendship changing into something more, becoming deeper as a new level of understanding passed between them.

Finally, Minerva broke their gaze, turning away. "Then get some sleep, Hermione and I shall see you at breakfast."

Hermione nodded, "You too."

Minerva watched Hermione take a handful of steps and pass through the door, the Gargoyle's low rumble indicating its descent as a tear slipped from beneath her glasses and slid down her cheek, relieved at the outcome from her conversation with Hermione.

Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: A special thanks to tigertales for a needed laugh this past weekend – thank you. October 3__rd__ 2009 will be the next day, the coming Saturday; and with hope will be posted on Friday._


	19. Chapter 18 October 3rd, 2009

_A/N: A word to the wise, go and grab a beverage before you start – it's a rather long chapter and a few parts are a wee bit heart wrenching…_

**Chapter 18 ~ October 3****rd****, 2009**

Hermione no sooner flew through the front Oak doors, exceptionally late for her departure with Minerva…who was already striding outwards. "We need to leave, now." Minerva said, walking by Hermione without stopping.

"I…" Hermione's eyes darted to the steps and then back to Minerva. "Would like to change." She said, feeling mildly out of place in jeans and a sweater compared to Minerva's robes.

The Headmistress didn't bother to turn back around, "You haven't time as we mustn't be late."

Hermione gave a final mournful glance in the direction of her rooms before spinning and striding after Minerva. "Which is where precisely?" She asked, the door swinging close behind her.

"As I previously stated, the centaurs." Minerva replied her gait long and hurried.

"Yes, but where in the forest are we heading?" Hermione asked, struggling to keep up.

"Their home along the western cliffs in the southern boundary." She stated, the heels of her boots no longer clicking as they stepped into the grass.

"And why this evening?" Hermione inquired, "Why not during the day?"

"We need to warn the Centaurs Council, and this is the first time they have gathered in the last week and a half."

"Can't you just inform their leader?"

"You have much to learn about politics in other magical creatures and their structure. Centaurs do not have a singular ruler, to inform one and not all at the same time is considered a slight of the second degree."

Hermione followed Minerva into the forest, despite the passage of years, she felt a mild form of trepidation sweep through her skin.

"Pay attention, Hermione. I doubt I'll be able to guide you back." Minerva said as a lumos charm burst forth from the tip of her wand.

"Wait." Hermione grabbed Minerva's arm. "What do you mean? I thought you said it was a ceremony."

"We need to talk and walk." Minerva said, pulling away. "And yes, it is a ceremony…" She stepped over a fallen tree. "One we were not willingly invited to."

"Not willingly…isn't that bad? Like… not return from the centaurs bad?"

"We'll return, Hermione. However, you need to follow my instructions to the letter."

"I don't understand, why am I to be blindfolded and wandless? And why won't you be able to guide me back?"

"The ceremony we are going to be attending is their ascension ceremony for their gildings who have reached the age of adulthood. For any man or woman to see a gilding before adulthood is considered unforgiveable and even the Ministry has conceded to their ruling of a life must be given for such an offense."

"And we are going on this night, why?" Hermione asked, outright fear replacing her trepidation.

"They need to be warned." Minerva stated simply.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned about…well, how they'll react?"

Minerva paused, head turning to meet Hermione's face, the light reflecting off the lens of her glasses. "Hermione, whatever you do and no matter what happens while there, do not go for your wand nor try to free me. And keep your blindfold on, so as you do not gaze upon a gilding. Do you understand?"

"Free you…?" The cadence of her voice dropping. "What do you have to do?"

"Convince them of the truth behind my words."

"And how in blazes do you propose to do that?" She inquired as both women began walking again.

"That is the least of my concerns." Minerva remarked. "Now, what are you going to do?"

"Blindfolded, wandless…listen and wait."

"Good." Minerva said slightly breathless. "And…" She licked her lips as she ducked beneath a gathering of vines. "Afterwards, upon our return, you may need to contact Helena and ask for her assistance."

"What aren't you telling me?" Hermione's level of concern rising exponentially.

Minerva stepped around a pile of rocks, replying as she met Frienze's gaze. "Nothing that needn't wait."

"I don't…" Hermione was about to counter her obscure statement, but snapped her mouth close at seeing the centaur.

"Minerva." Frienze tilted his head, "Are you ready?"

"Frienze, this is Hermione Granger, the woman I spoke of." Minerva motioned to Hermione, "And no I am not ready, but I haven't many choices or the time."

"Then we shall…"

Minerva's voice stopping Frienze's movement, "Our arrangement remains?"

"You vouched for her, therefore her life and yours are as one." He tilted his head toward the north, "Let us go."

Hermione turned to Minerva, questions lacing her eyes as she mouthed, _Vouched for?_

_Later._ Minerva replied as they followed Frienze deeper into the forest, trickles of moon light guiding their path. Hermione tried to mark areas to enable her to make her way back to the castle, but after another half hour, she knew it would difficult at best to return to the clearing where they had met Frienze without a guide. Her legs ached, her feet were tired…and still they marched on, Minerva's limp becoming more pronounced.

Then she could see an orange glow coming from ahead, _fires_, she thought nearing them, voices joining in the noise of the forest. Two other centaurs jumped from the shadows, bows drawn.

"What are _they_ doing here?"

"Ziliene, I have come to speak with the council." Minerva said stepping around Frienze.

Immediately both centaurs lowered their bows, "Minerva, you cannot be here tonight."

"I'm afraid, that the urgency behind my words necessitate that I am."

Ziliene turned to Hermione, "And what of she?"

"My guide." Minerva stated.

Ziliene raised his bow, "No. To permit you entry is blasphemous, she must remain here."

"I am not as strong as I once was, Ziliene and I will need a guide to return to Hogwarts."

Frienze and Ziliene exchanged a glance, "Then you mean to enter." Ziliene's words were a scant whisper.

"I have news of a threat to the gildings."

Hermione watched as both Ziliene and the other centaur beside him reared upon their back legs, face twisted in rage. "You had better be certain, Headmistress." Ziliene growled.

"I am." Minerva remained unfazed at their apparent anger.

"They will seek verification." Ziliene said, voice finally returning to normal.

"Hence, I have brought a guide with which to return home."

"She will not…"

Minerva stepped forward, closing the space between her and Ziliene. "She will or I will return whence I came."

"You cannot." He sneered.

"I can, as you have no hold over me." She rebuked.

Black eyes measured the sincerity of her green ones. "Very well. She may enter, but with a blindfold only and she must leave her wand here."

Frienze stepped around the two, stopping in front of Hermione and he reached his hand out. "I will hold it and return it to you."

Hermione felt her heart hammering in her chest as she pulled her wand from her pocket. She turned to Minerva, "Are you sure?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes." She said, raising her walking stick which immediately morphed into her wand. "Here." She placed the tip in her other hand, giving the handle to Frienze.

Frienze opened his mouth to say that her worth was proven, that they would not take her wand, but stopped as Hermione followed suit and handed him her wand. Then a tearing could be heard, and the small group turned to the noise…as Minerva took a piece of her robes and held it out to Hermione. A blindfold.

Hermione grasped the material, and for a moment marveled at the satin feel of the silk within her hand. She raised her head, meeting Minerva's steady gaze and felt a measure of reassurance. Minerva gave her a slight nod, and she reached up and covered her eyes, bathing her in blackness. She stood waiting, listening…and for a split second she heard nothing and then a gentle hand slipped under her elbow as a distinct smell graced her senses. Lavender with a hint of vanilla…one she had smelled before, but would remember hereafter as the woman's Scottish brogue broke the silence. "This way."

Hermione absently nodded as the elder woman began guiding her ahead, giving her a handful of subtle cues regarding where to step and where not to. Then, despite the covering over her eyes, she could tell they had entered the ceremony as light and heat invaded her senses. Minerva's soft voice could barely be heard over the roar of the encampment, "Remember what I said."

Hermione felt her jaw tighten, "Yes." She replied, as a series of deafening yells and curses swept over them. Then she felt Minerva's hand leave her arm, a shift beside her…and then Frienze's deep voice rumbling beside her.

"Stay true to Minerva's words, no matter what you hear from this moment forward."

Hermione felt herself nod as she turned her gaze toward the noise that had began to quiet down, her worry for herself and Minerva increasing.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Minerva steeled herself and stepped forward amidst the jeers and felt at first one rock and then another strike her side and then back. The last one caused her to stumble, and with a wince she forced herself upright, her hat falling from her head.

At once, the jeers and roar of anger lessened, many of the centaurs recognizing the formidable witch. One of the few humans who rallied for their rights, and was a strong proponent for equity amongst all magical creatures. Yet, a handful of younger centaurs continued throwing stones at the human woman.

It wasn't until one glanced off Minerva's brow, the impact dropping her to her knees that an elder raised his voice silencing the entire large gathering.

"Enough!"

Minerva took a rattling breath, her side burning in pain from the recent series of impacts. But they were nothing compared to the throbbing above her eye, and with a grimace she stood feeling the warmth of her blood running down her cheek. Gritting her teeth, she narrowed her eyes and stared up at the Council. "Forgive my intrusion," She cleared her throat, as she blinked back a wave of dizziness. "But I bring grave news."

"Were you a lesser human, you would be dead." Tenian, a white haired centaur cantered forward, "Though, I must wonder if you did not realize what occasion marks this day? Perhaps then we shall grant a semblance of leniency." He cast his eyes beyond, "But my heart mourns as you have brought a second." His mighty mane flinging in the wind, "You have joined your kind in arrogance and presumptuousness."

"I came knowing of this days meaning…"

A roar billowed through the ceremony at the level of disrespect shown…

"But…" Minerva raising her voice, yelling over their words. "It is of a threat to your gildings!"

Tenian waved his arm, a silence befalling the group. "What did you say?"

"I bring news of a threat to your gildings." Minerva said meeting his grey eyes. His jaw flexed in rage as most other centaurs reared up, screaming their rage to the heavenly skies.

Xxooxoxxoxoxoxooxoxxxxoxoxxoxxoxoox

Hermione could hear objects hurling through the air, she went to move forward, but felt a gentle hand restrain her. "You must stay."

She took deep ragged breaths, nodding as she felt her jaw clench and the tears pooling in her eyes. Hearing the jeers, objects striking the ground…she didn't know if it was worse than seeing what was happening, her mind conjuring images of the scene before her.

Then she heard a different noise, as if something had connected…_Minerva._ Immediately followed by a loud reverberating voice yelling, "Enough!"

The light flickered across her eyes, and in that moment, Hermione realized that if she concentrated…she could make out shadowy figures beyond her veil. And her throat caught, as she saw a figure kneeled…a human figure, Minerva. She must have been hit, but she was standing…posture erect, as she turned to meet a large centaur.

Hermione held her breath as Minerva spoke, and then felt herself flinch at the centaurs rebuttal. _What did he mean by a semblance of leniency? And believing, Minerva of all people, to be a pompous and arrogant witch just because I came with her? Did she know how they would react if I came with her? Then why bring me?_

Minerva's response was momentarily blanketed out before her thick accent and yelling words melded with theirs, until finally the centaur asked her to repeat what she had said.

At the words, _threat to your gildings_…for a moment, Hermione felt as though she would go deaf from the screams of their outrage.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxox

Minerva swallowed the thick metallic taste, willing her stomach to remain still as another wave of dizziness swept over her. Her focus wavering a moment as she continued to meet Tenian's gaze, eyes narrowing as his thoughts focalized.

"A gilding threat, you say." Tenian's legs shuffling beneath him, "And though many here have known you, we also know of your kind. Why should we believe you?"

"His name is Johannes Harkiss." Minerva said, ignoring Tenian's question as she began laying the facts out. "He is a wizard seeking immortality believing the path lies through Hogwarts, and he wishes to shatter the wards of these lands and of Hogwarts through a culmination of mixing 8 magical creatures blood…" Her sentence breaking as her lower back, left hip area exploded in pain from the sharp impact… Even Tenian's quick reflexives didn't stop her body from collapsing to the ground.

"I said, enough!" He bellowed, fury evident in his voice.

Minerva reached around as she staggered to her knees, her hip less than responsive as she placed pressure upon it…forcing herself upright. "You may want to wait to kill me until after you have heard all that I have to say." Her jaw flexing in pain, "As I doubt you will be receiving any other messengers to assist you in protecting your gildings."

The pop and crackle from the scattered fires was the only sound evident in the camp as the centaurs pondered her words. "We will hear what this human has to say." Ryklar said, the youngest of the Council.

Tenian turned to Minerva, "We are listening, but consider your words carefully, for words must have substance and credibility for there to be truth."

"The words I uttered are the truth. Johannes will come, his will is bent upon obtaining immortality."

"How do you know this to be true?"

"He has uttered those very words to me in a wizard's duel at Diagon Alley."

"This sounds as though it is a wizards' problem, not ours." Ryklar sneered.

"It will be all of our problems if he succeeds." Minerva rebuked.

Tenian raised his head, eyes scanning the other eleven faces of the council…some believed, some did not. "Why did you seek to warn us?"

"Most days, I find centaur company rather enjoyable." She quipped earning a light smile that passed briefly over his eyes. "And no child, gilding, mare, or otherwise should be placed in harm's way."

A light, yet powerful wave of stomps rumbled the ground in agreement. "You have dueled him?"

"Yes."

"Why has he not been captured or killed?"

"He escaped." She replied simply.

Gregan frowned, "I think, perhaps you have let him go. You wish him to succeed…share his secrets with you and for you to become immortal."

"I wish him dead, Gregan." Minerva's voice had turned ruthlessly cold, "He was my daughter's mate for six years and then one day, he slaughtered her and she died within my arms. I have tried and failed to kill him three times, two times I choose to grant life to others over vengeance for my daughter. The only item I wish to share with him is, death."

Gregan shook his head, "Your personal wars do not concern…"

"This is not personal…" Minerva said, voice shaking. "He is coming for one of your gildings, a unicorn filly…"

"You have no proof!" Ryklar yelled, "Only human lies and supposition."

"Then show me your honor," Minerva snapped her head around, "Perform the Hukbar and test the veracity behind my words."

"You would not survive the ceremony." Ryklar scoffed.

"And your cowardice does not become your race." Minerva replied, drawing several appreciative nods from the group. "My survival is not why I am here, I have come to give a warning about your young. However, if you do not believe the sincerity behind my warning, then I call upon you to perform the Hukbar."

Tenian did not wait for the councils words, he nodded. "You are a brave witch with a stout heart, but do you know what you ask?"

"I do." She replied, lowering her voice so only Tenian could hear her words. "I partook in the ceremony before."

"Very well, then Ryklar will answer your challenge and perform the Hukbar." A rumble went through the crowd at the notion that a human was going to participate in a memory ceremony…

"Tenian." Minerva reached up, wincing as she applied pressure above her eye, voice low as she spoke. "Hermione, the witch who accompanied me."

"Yes." He replied, eyes trailing Ryklar's form as he approached.

"She accompanied me to take me home." Minerva stated and immediately grey eyes flashed in understanding…his respect for the human witch increasing immeasurably.

"I was wrong about you, Minerva." He said as Ryklar came to stand beside them, a sneer upon his face.

"I doubt it." Ryklar stated, "All humans are the same, filled with lies and the ideological belief of superiority."

Minerva turned away from Tenian and faced Ryklar, "Then take my hands and prove me wrong."

Ryklar held the palm of his hands upright in front of him, Minerva doing the same and then Tenian reached into his quiver pulling an arrow out. With four deft strokes, he sliced the palms of their hands. "May the stars and heavens show us the truth behind Minerva's words."

Tenian nodded to them…and at once, Ryklar grabbed Minerva's hands within his own. For a moment, nothing happened…a smile beginning to cross Ryklar's face as he believed her to be lying, there was nothing for the Hukbar to show them and then a jolt passed through them, pulling the air from their lungs…

Minerva felt herself sinking…

The wind becoming warmer…

The twilight rays streaming down upon bloody, matted and graying blond hair…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

_Huk…what? _Hermione thought, trying to catch the next series of words, hoping to garner a nugget of information as to what the ceremony was. Her level of concern increasing as the elder centaur asked Minerva if she knew what she was asking.

"I do." Minerva succinctly replied and Hermione held her breath, waiting for a response.

"Very well, then Ryklar will answer your challenge and perform the Hukbar." A rumble greeted the centaur's words.

Hermione turned to Frienze, voice barely loud enough to ask. "What's the Hukbar?"

A soft response greeted her. "A process that enables all present to witness a memory."

"Like a pensive." Hermione replied.

She couldn't see his face, but could tell from the cadence of his voice he disapproved of her analogy. "Not like human magic, this is invoked through the magic of the centaurs. To witness the memory, the centaur has to relive the event."

"Relive? As in watch?"

"The centaur whose memory is being witnessed, relives the memory as if it were happening for the first time."

_How was this possible? Surely not everyone would see it…_

"I only know of four humans who have had the Hukbar performed, one wizard did not survive the ceremony.

_Did Minerva know what she was doing? _Hermione's head snapped back to where she knew Minerva was standing, heart pounding in her chest. _Dear Merlin, what was Minerva thinking? She was risking her life…for a memory? Why? _She could see her vague outline and that of a second centaur cantering over to her, which had to be Ryklar. His voice echoing over the rumbling noise, "All humans are the same, filled with lies and the ideological belief of superiority."

Hermione felt herself recoil at his statement, she had known that the centaurs did not like humans but to hear the venom in his voice, the disdain…

Hermione could make out Minerva's regal outline, boldly standing before the two centaurs. Minerva's voice was strong, powerful, brave… "Then take my hands and prove me wrong."

Hermione could see movement, from the elder centaur…and then his voice rang through the plain. "May the stars and heavens show us the truth behind Minerva's words."

Hermione held her breath, not knowing what would happen next…and was surprised when Ryklar reached out and grabbed Minerva's hands within his own. She felt her body involuntarily move forward, but again Frienze's hand stayed her movement.

"Wait, young one." He said.

Hermione's eyes remained riveted to the centaur and Minerva…their vague outlines obscured…and then the wind shifted…

The air became warmer as the smell of burnt ash and blood swept over her…

The darkness slipped away and the afternoon light filled the glade as the image of Wilhemenia's out building began to take shape…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Minerva could feel her reality merging with her memory...her jaw clenching in realization as a tear slipped unbidden down her cheek in the glade as the stalks of grass grew into the wooden, worn planks from Wilhemenia's property; the starry heavens of the night sky vanished as the waning sun streamed down up on her.

She could hear _her own _voice as the ache in her shoulder grew…the last of her reality slipped away…

"I'm here, dear. Now, what is it?" She asked gently placing her hand upon her injured friend's arm.

"They wished…" Her eyes drooped a bit as they slid to Hermione, "…I can't…with…her…"

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxxxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione's heart stopped as Minerva's distinct brogue fluttered across the air, the words echoing her memory from last week.

She could see an image of herself…Wilhemenia's broken body as Minerva leaned over.

She didn't need to see what was before her, she already knew. She had been there…

The words…the timing…

It was uncanny…

"Regarding…Hogwarts…" She could visualize Wilhemenia struggling for a breath…

Could remember how Minerva had nodded, tenderness and kindness lacing her words. "I know, but it's alright. Go ahead..."

"They wanted to know…" A low whistle now laced Wilhemenia's words as she continued on. "Where the Centaurs lived in…The unicorn fields, and…if there were any passages leading past the wards."

"Was there anything else?" Anxiousness leaching into Minerva's voice.

"Want knowledge of a filly and gilding…" Hermione could hear a wave of unrest and trampling feet, but no words were spoken save for Minerva and Wihemenia's.

"Did they say why?"

"No, just want…in…"

"Alright, dear." Minerva whispered, "I won't let anything happen…"

Relief filling Wilhemenia's voice, "I…know."

"Now, I need to get you to St. Mungos. I promised Rioblo that I'd take care of you."

At once… the scene shifted, melting away…and the distinct sounds of Hogwarts' grounds filled her ears, the lapping of the lake.

Then the shocking realization that they were listening to the conversation she had with Minerva late last week, the morning after the attack at Wilhemenia's.

"No," A thin chuckle echoed through the Glade. "I am not happy with Kingsley nor he with me. But, at this juncture, he cannot openly admit to a threat without concrete proof and once admitted, the public will desire results."

"So why do you persist to engage him?" Came her own voice.

There was a pause, and Hermione could recall Minerva turning and bringing her startling green gaze to her own. "Because he is wrong, and he and I both know he is."

Then an owl chirped, "I'm sorry, Huron, I haven't any treats for you."

Hermione could see Minerva moving, and she recalled the parchment Minerva had received from Harry.

She knew Minerva had not read it aloud, but the outer sounds of the grounds became muted…and she could hear Minerva's voice…

It was so different, peaceful…unlike her typical speech, a portrayal of how her inner thoughts sounded as Harry's letter was recited. And as Minerva's voice carried to the second paragraph, Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of melodious Scottish lilt…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxox

Minerva felt the warmth of Harry's letter dissolve, the letter turning to ash in her hands as the morning sun gave way to the warmth of afternoon rays. She blinked and the lawns of Hogwarts grew into the shops of Diagon Alley…the smell of the morning dew replaced with the musky odor of an Apothecary shop…

She felt a chill travel up her spine as she heard _his_ voice…

"If it is none other than the venerable Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

Minerva turned toward the hollow voice, feeling a sweeping sense of déjà vu envelope her. "Johannes."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The blindfold fell away, and Hermione blinked…taking in the scene before her. It was as if she was standing on the street at Diagon Alley, next to Minerva…and yet seeing the world through her eyes as Minerva's icy voice stilled the wizard. However, it was different…Minerva's robes were no longer immaculate as they had been when she had first noticed the witch from across the street. A large blood stain covered her right shoulder, down her arm, the front of her robes…she looked like she did after Wilhemenia's, wisps of hair hanging down into her face…but Minerva had wounds that were not of Wilhemenia's.

Her movements were stilted, the left hip seemed immobile and she had a large knot of oozing blood above her eye…she didn't appear to notice any of her apparent injuries…and as Minerva opened her mouth, Hermione wondered if they witnessed all of this memory…would Minerva have the injuries from that too?

"You should not have come back here, and to me…of all people."

Hermione turned to Frienze, "Why…?"

"Shhh…it is apparent you are to be trusted." He whispered as Johannes' voice responded.

"I must admit to being mildly shocked to see you still alive, the…" A pulse of blue interrupted Johannes' words, and Hermione frowned. She didn't think that was supposed to happen, as was evident from the rustling of the centaurs. "Esmerele was right, it must have worked." Johannes' voice barely extending outward. "Fascinating."

Hermione watched as Minerva's posture changed, fingers tightening around her walking stick, eyes narrowing, and jaw becoming clenched. "How are your shoulder and your back?"

"My shoulder and back?" Johannes murmured, taking a step closer and then eyes flashing in recognition…and surprise. "You!" His jaw flinched in anger, "I should have known." He pursed his lips, a sneer sliding over his face, mirth lining his voice, "And how are your legs? I see you have had to resort to a walking stick."

_Her legs? What is he talking about…? She said she had engaged him before, twice…but had never said anything about being hurt. What had he done?_ She wondered, eyes riveted to the scene before her. Waiting. Anticipating the duel. Anxious at what she would be seeing and hearing from Minerva's perspective.

And then Minerva's gaze shifted, and despite the closeness of Johannes…he seemed to fade in the background, and was surprised to see an image of herself and her daughter come into focus. Her hand on Rose's shoulder as they exited the shop, 'All Things Muggle.'

"I have no intention of dueling you, here, today." Minerva stated, shocking Hermione that she would even say such a thing. _Why didn't Minerva want to duel Johannes?_

"You didn't back away in Madrid…You are not well are you?" His dry chuckle splitting the air, "You wouldn't willingly not fight me…unless," His mouth quirked down, sparkle appearing in his black eyes and Hermione felt her spine shiver in fear at his almost gleeful look. "You're dying."

_Dying…_

"We are all dying Johannes," She stated, "Even you."

_Surely she would have said something…wouldn't she of? He's just making random accusations…she almost kills him, in a few minutes…_

"On the contrary my dear Headmistress." His voice dropped low, guttural; pulling Hermione's gaze back to him. "I have no intentions of dying. Rather of becoming immortal, as you and your beloved husband had intended on being before he was killed."

_Immortal? _"Immortal? What absurd idea…" And Hermione watched Minerva stutter to a stop as she realized what he was referring to, and the utter hate began twisting her normally serene face…

"During the six years of our marriage, your daughter was most forthcoming regarding the family…"

"Is that why you killed her?" Minerva hissed.

"She didn't die in my arms…" Hermione could see and feel the pleasure he felt at the words he was uttering, her stomach clenching as he finished his taunt. "She died in yours."

The very air crackled at her fury, "You killed her because I survived..." Again, her body emitted an eerie shade of blue, blanketing out the words she had spoken.

"How does it feel to know that your life caused your beloved daughter's death?" He mocked as a low rumble began to throb beneath Hermione's feet, magic prickling her toes..."Now tell me…"

The very shops on either side of Minerva and Johannes began to shake, and before he could utter another word his body blew backwards as a burst of magic pulsed from Minerva outward.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Minerva was exhausted as she raised her head, eyes squinting against the night. Vaguely she was aware of a dull ache in her hip, head, shoulder, and it hurt along her right side of her ribs. _Perhaps I should have stayed in better accommodations last evening, _she thought as cyan robes and a lithe wizard stepped around the brick corner.

Her eyes jumped up to his face, seeking confirmation that _he _was whom she had sought after for the past 6 years. His cheeks were sunken in, skin paisley white, lips looking parched…but his eyes, she would know them anywhere. Eyes as black as a starless night.

At once, her wand slid into her hand as she strode towards him. _Should I kill him without warning?_ She thought, raising her wand, spell on her lips…but she couldn't. She wasn't like him. She would give him a sporting chance…one he had never given her daughter.

"Johannes." She said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. She had been taking polyjuice potion for the past several days, blending in as a native Spaniard.

At once, he whipped his head around, eyes staring at the unfamiliar witch with a wand already drawn upon him. "Who are you?"

"I am here to settle a life debt." Minerva replied, her hatred of him leeching into her voice.

"A life debt, and who have I killed that could have been precious enough for you to willingly end your own life?" He asked mockingly as he casually flipped his outer cloak away…fingers gravitating towards his wand.

Minerva felt a smile curling her lips at his aura of superiority, one that she had every intention of stripping away, one spell at a time. "Someone very dear to me. Go ahead," She nodded for him to go ahead and withdrawal his wand. "I am giving you more of chance than you have given others."

"One that I believe will be your undoing." He said, eyes raking her features as he drew his wand out of his silk satchel.

"I should have realized how arrogant you were," She muttered, "But it matters not, you will be dead soon."

"You are not old enough to have the skill necessary to win. Give up, live for another day…" His voice dropped, as did his eyes, "Perhaps I can entice you…"

Minerva had had enough, anger flashing through her eyes, and flipped her wand, a deep gash split his cheek and he yelped in pain as it had struck into his bone. "I am going to rip you apart, a piece at a time." She said, feeling a mild bit of satisfaction as blood poured down his face, dripping off his jaw and darkening the collarbone and front of his robes.

Rage swelled through Johannes, "Bitch!" He screeched, spells flying from the tip of his wand.

Minerva casually flipped each one away, enraging him farther. "Is that the extent of your _great_ skill?"

He drew up, taking a deep breath, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

Minerva shrugged, "No one of importance." She replied, the rest of her words whispered quietly under her breath, "At least, anymore." She then ground her teeth, her wand twisting and spinning as spells tumbled effortlessly from its tip.

Xoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Hermione watched as Minerva relentlessly cast spell after spell, at a speed that defied reason. Johannes struggling to deflect each one, barely able to offensively strike back, sweat beading off his brow.

Minerva dodged to the left, transfiguring a blue ceramic pot into a set of armor that immediately struck at Johannes causing him to turn and a turquoise metallic colored bolt, laced with red left her wand in a rush. Growing, into the size of a bludger as it sped forward, Johannes transfiguring the armor into a numerous daggers, which he went to fling back to Minerva when the bolt struck his shoulder…glowing through to the front…knocking him forward…

Hermione wondered what spell had struck Johannes, as his mouth opened…eyes bulging in obvious pain, but no sound came from his throat. His eyes frantically searching, white knuckles clutching his wand, tears streaming down his face mixing with the blood…

Minerva was beginning to cast a spell…

A muggle daughter and mother stepped around the tall brick building, the mother's arm wrapped around her daughter's body who was fast asleep upon her mother's shoulder.

Johannes cast a red spell at them…

As yellow one was released from the tip of Minerva's wand at Johannes…

Hermione watched as Minerva's eyes jerked to where the red bolt was going, _there's no time_, Hermione thought, heartbroken for the mother and daughter's fate. And for Minerva…who had undoubtedly blamed herself for their deaths.

Xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoo

Minerva spun around, _damn_, she thought as a bolt let loose from her and Johannes' wand almost simultaneously, however, his spell was remarkably off course. Then she saw the muggle mother and child…her heart seizing. She had to make a choice, _his life or theirs…_

She could see Esmerele starring up at her, black hair cascading down…eyes so full of trust…the first time she had successfully flown on a broom, her first boyfriend, first dance…it was no decision, she would not risk another's fate…

She pictured where the muggles were…herself…and with every ounce of energy and willpower she apparated…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo

A loud crack of an apparition split the air, Hermione had never heard Minerva so much as make more than a subtle pop before…

Hermione did a double take as the muggles had suddenly appeared where Minerva had been, and then a flash and Minerva was where they were…the red bolt striking her upper legs…

As Johannes' scream caused her to jerk her eyes over to him, momentarily forgotten. Minerva's spell solidifying the water he had been standing in, into stone…he was momentarily immobilized from the waist down.

Hermione whipped her head back toward Minerva, to see her collapsing downward…blood gushing down the front of her robes, jaw still determinably set…wand raised. But, instead of attacking Johannes, Hermione could see the short movement…a protego charm leaping in front of the muggles…

The stone blowing apart…

Black and green eyes meeting through the haze of dust…

And then Johannes took a step backwards, and another…quickly disappearing behind a corner, leaving Minerva alone with the muggles…

"Wow…are we in Disneyland?" The young woman asked, sleep still evident in her face.

The mother still holding her daughter as she neared Minerva, "Are you alright, Ma'am?"

A broken Scottish voice slipped from the long dark haired Mediterranean woman, a voice Hermione knew all too well. "You best be going, it isn't safe for you here."

"Your legs!" The mother gasped, "You need to get to a hospital."

"I assure you, I will be fine." Minerva replied…and as she moved, Hermione could see the deep sliced open muscle…the bone…and couldn't help but cringe…as the scene melted away…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxxo

The brine from the sea touching her nose…

As the gates of McGonagall Manor snapped into focus, the sun beginning to wane…

Minerva was running late, the Governors had kept her in the meeting for the better part of four hours. At once, the gate to her family's Manor creaked open and she stepped inside…the wards feeling slightly off…

She turned as a rustle swept beside her, "Mistress…" Wilspy's young eyes blinking up at her as large droplets of tears ran down her face, "You'se daughter."

"Tessa?" Minerva asked, knowing that she was indeed late.

Wilspy shook her small head, her large ears flinging in air… "She has been gravely hurt by wizard's dark magic."

Minerva felt the air rush from her lungs, "Where Wilspy?"

Wilspy reached her small hand out, "I's takes you'se." She said as shaky fingers wrapped around the Mistress' arm.

Xoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxxo

Hermione was mildly surprised that unlike the previous memories, Minerva's robes were pristine. The blood, holes, tears, even evidence of her injuries…all gone. Upon hearing Wilspy's words, Hermione felt dread begin swelling in the pit of her soul as she realized what memory they were about to watch. The death of her daughter…and as much as Hermione wanted to look away, to not witness what she was sure would be a soul wrenching scene, she couldn't.

A part of her _wanted_ to see the heartache, to bare witness…to understand the woman whose body was morphing away with Wilspy. She watched as the large grounds of the Manor shifted…the gates could still be seen but they were several hundred feet away…and the sight laying in front of them, immediately brought tears to Hermione's eyes as all the color drained from Minerva's face, and at that point, Hermione didn't know if she had the stomach to observe the anguish before her…

"Ohhhh…" Minerva's voice breaking as she stumbled forward…hand out, fingers shaking…"Esmerele…"

There amongst the manicured lawns of McGonagall Manor laid a woman's body, broken, bleeding, bubbles of blood eschewing forth from her mouth as she lay gasping for breath.

And then a crack resounded by the gates, drawing not only her attention, but Minerva's away from Esmerele…

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Minerva glanced up at the noise…to see a form moving across the lawns, lithe body…

"Johannes!" Minerva roared; the grounds around her trembling from her rage.

The wizard stopped, twilight cascading down upon him…streaking his body in shafts of yellows, oranges, and reds…the blood glinting across his robes.

"Come…" He held out his arms, "I am here!"

Minerva could barely feel the deep breaths emanating from her as the tears poured down her face…for one heart breaking moment…she wished to fly across the McGonagall property and take an inch of flesh a day at a time.

And then she heard her daughter gasp…and she plunged to her knees…eyes momentarily following his fleeing body to the gates…as her fingers placed pressure upon the wounds…

A creak sounding as her eyes fell to her daughter's body…

Tears blurring her vision…

Fighting for air, forcing the words from her throat, "I'm here." She said, as her daughter's blood gushed over her hands, "You'll be…"

Esmerele shook her head, waving her hand… "Must know…"

"Tell me after your well…" Minerva went to move, but Esmerele reached up…fingers grasping her mother's forearm…

"He…seeks…heart…" Her eyes becoming heavy, "Immortality…" She whispered as a bubble of blood popped across her lips.

"Stay with me…love." Minerva's voice was broken as her daughter's eyes fluttered.

"Tried to…stop…him…" A solitary tear slipped down Esmerele's cheek as she meet her mother's gaze… "I…tried…" She took a sputtering breath, "…Sorry…"

Minerva's cheek fluttered, heart hammering in her chest, "Helena…will…" Her voice broke as a smile touched Esmerele's face…

"You…'ll need…stop" Her fingers began to loosen as blackness swirled across her world.

"Hold on," Minerva said as she pulled all of her magic…and that of her recent bonding to Hogwarts to her…focusing on St. Mungos…the wards…and with a thunderous crack…felt pain lance through her as she ripped the fabric of her family wards…

The magic burning across her body…

Stealing her very breath…

As wave after wave of pain echoed to her soul…and as the blackness was about to consume her…she felt the grass give way to marble…

A clatter could be heard at once, "Minerva?" Helena asked, jumping from her chair. "Oh my…" Minerva could hear her scrambling around the desk, but it faded to the background…as did Helena's voice as she poured all of her energy into remaining awake, "Maxine, I need three healers in my office, NOW!"

"Stay with me." Minerva muttered, barely coherent, "Esmerele."

"Co…ld.." She burbled, "So…co..ld…mom…"

"I know…" Minerva said as Helena began frantically casting spell after spell…diagnostic and healing spell intertwined… "But..I need you to stay," Her voice choking, "Dear."

"I…'m…so..rry, mom." She breathed out, eyes rolling back into her head.

"Don't…" Minerva felt her jaw quiver…muscles tremble, "Please, Esmerele…" She begged, "Fight…"

"Lo..ve..yo…" And Minerva felt Esmerele's body begin to go slacken…

"Is tú mo ghrá _(I love you)_." The Gaelic words falling from her lips as her daughter breathed out her last quivering breath. "Nooooo…." Minerva said, beginning to shake her head, "Esmerele!" Her fingers curling around her daughter's robes, "You can't die…" She breathed out, "Not before me…God no…not another…"

She felt a set of arms pulling her away, embracing her…

"I can't…" She gasped…struggling for a breath…

"She's dead, love." Helena's voice reverberating through her friend's bones… "I'm so sorry…"

"Can't…" Minerva whispered; her soul shattering as she met startling blue eyes…eyes she associated to Albus… "Tha mi duilich _(I'm sorry)…_A chuisle _(My love)_…" She breathed, as her own body crumpled beneath her.

The energy and will necessary to go on…

Along with her magic…

All of it…

Including her spirit…

Gone…as the world blacked out…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Hermione couldn't breathe, couldn't think; as her eyes remain fastened upon Minerva's still form. Shock reverberating through her bones…touching her soul…

Not a word, a rustle, even the wind seemed to have died away as the Glade became visible again. Ryklar was kneeling upon his front legs, Minerva's body sprawled upon the ground. The emerald of her robes all but gone, as the fire danced upon the glistening crimson blood.

Hermione wasted no time, lurching forward. "Minerva!"

Ryklar and Tenian snapped their heads towards the witch, "Stop." Tenian stated, "The ceremony is not over."

"But she is dying…" Hermione's voice breaking as she pointed to Minerva.

Ryklar returned his attention back to the witch, who had given so much…he began to slowly pull his hand away, trying to take as much of the separation pain as possible…but even as his left hand separated…her face flinched, and he felt sorrow in his heart.

"We need to move the gildings at once." A grey haired centaur upon the Council stated as Ryklar focused upon gently removing his right hand.

"I concur." Came another reply.

By the time Ryklar separated his other hand, the vote was unanimous. "May the waning moon give way to the waxing sun, just as memory gives way to reality." He stated and then turned to Hermione nodding. "You may come." He stated before turning to the rest of the Glade, "As do I. But, where within the forest…"

Frienze cantered next to Hermione, hand upon her shoulder, stopping her. "She must wait for but a moment more."

Hermione glanced up…tears still streaming down her cheeks, head shaking. "No."

Frienze ignored her comment, handing her both wands…and a rolled up parchment. "Minerva," He raised his voice, "Gave me a sealed parchment upon entering the forest and asked that if unable, that her companion read it." He turned to Hermione.

"I can't…" Her voice faltered as all eyes of the Glade fell upon her, and she was about to say that she needed to get Minerva back to Hogwarts, her life was in danger, this was foolish…but then she stopped and slit the seal. Minerva had known, risked her life…and _wanted_ this parchment read…

And if reading this roll of paper meant she could return to Hogwarts that much faster…she cleared her throat.

_As you have undoubtedly seen, I have lost a child to this soulless man who wishes to break the foundations of Hogwarts through the blood of not only your young but seven other magical creatures. I cannot allow that to come to pass for the sake of Hogwarts, your children and the others' children, including my own grandchildren. _

_I know there are several glens within the Forest, he seeks them all. He has taken six of the last eight magical care professors in an effort to garner your whereabouts. I can only hope they remain as steadfast as Wilhemenia and Stuart who died._

_I offer a choice, one you may feel disinclined to accept, but it shall remain as long as I live or a member of my family does. The McGonagall Clan has the rights to over six thousand acres, all but a few are wooded and may work for a short-lived home. Any resources that I have, are at your disposal to assist in keeping the gildings safe. If members of the Council wish a tour of the country, it shall be provided. You are free to move as many of the centaurs there as you wish, the only humans who will know will be Hermione, myself or a member of my immediate family if I die, and Rory Wallace._

_I will vouch my life for Rory._

_I only ask that you leave the northern lake undisturbed._

_Minerva McGonagall_

Hermione held the parchment out to Frienze, "Here." Her eyes unable to gaze at Minerva's distinct script a moment longer, she needed to get Minerva to a Hogwarts. The Centaurs within the Glade erupting into very heated debates on the wisdom of moving the herds.

Frienze took the parchment and moved away enabling Hermione to take the final steps to Minerva.

_She was a bloody mess!_ Hermione thought gasping at Minerva. She had appeared gravely wounded before, but to see her up close…

"I shall help you." Ryklar quietly uttered.

Hermione was about to spit that she didn't need or want his help, but the truth was, she needed it.

"I need to get her back to Hogwarts." She stated, leaning down, gently touching the side of Minerva's neck to find a pulse. Her skin was cold, clammy… "Quickly." She said head turning around to find a loose twig, and at once raised her wand. She could heard a few gasps, but she ignored them as she transfigured the wood stick into a thick woolen blanket. Tucking her wand next to Minerva's in her pants, she grabbed the corner, pulled it to her, and began wrapping Minerva within it. "She's in shock." Hermione explained to Ryklar, "She needs to remain warm."

The jostling movement, caused Minerva's eyes to flutter open…blinking…her eyes wouldn't focus…she could hear strange sounds…a face flooded her vision, words…

"Tha mi…duilich." She muttered feeling her head lull.

"Minerva." Hermione said, "We're taking you back to Hogwarts." She bent to scoop the elder witch's body up…but Ryklar placed his hand upon her.

"Allow me." He bent over, the muscles of his back and chest flexing as he picked up Minerva's still form, carefully ensuring she remained tucked within the blanket.

"But…"

Frienze held out his hand, "We can travel much faster than you."

Hermione could not fault their logic, but what of her? It would be an hour before she arrived back at Hogwarts. Would anyone know Minerva needed medical assistance until she returned?

Frienze frowned at the young witch, as she had not moved. "Hurry, Hermione."

Hermione turned her head upward, "What…"

He held out his hand, "Climb upon my back and be quick." Ryklar was already trotting quickly across the grounds, the centaurs parting ways.

Hermione placed her hand within his, and she felt her body move through the air as he hoisted her upon his back with ease. "It would be best for you to hold on," He reared up, turning around and began taking off after Ryklar.

Hermione didn't have any time to think where to grab, her arms reaching out, fingers grasping the sides of his chest. "Is this alright?" She asked as his long strides flew across the Glade.

"Fine," He breathed, "Hold on." He said as he flexed his back, taking a long deep breath…his gait slowing…and before Hermione could ask if everything was alright, he took off at a gallop.

The trees and brush becoming blurs along her side, vines and thickets ripping along her arms and into her flesh. She nestled her head down lower after one caught her jaw…

_There was no way Minerva would survive this! _ She thought, as she had this sudden feeling of weightlessness…before their bodies were jolted as his hooves impacted the ground.

And then she felt him spring forward, again. Her body laying out as he did…and as she opened her eyes and peered about…she felt that perhaps she shouldn't have. He was jumping over the gorges…

His hooves scrambled upwards, legs pushing as he impacted…arms reaching out, pulling them forward. Hermione could feel Frienze's muscles ripple, strained from the excursion. Then she saw the large palpates, the astronomy tower, the owlry...standing tall against the moonlight night.

"Where's Ryklar and Minerva?" She asked, realizing for the first time, they were nowhere to be seen.

"Another route." He gasped, "We shall arrive a few minutes ahead." His back legs hunched down, the rocks sliding with them…and Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Before them was a several hundred foot drop, the bottom obscured in darkness, and he was rapidly approaching it.

"Ahh…Frienze." She tightened her hold, feeling her arms burn as she did so.

"Trust me." He breathed, "As Minerva does."

She didn't know entirely what that meant, but knew better than to ask, now. "Alright." She murmured, and at once he pushed off the sheer rock face, accelerating their descent.

Hermione's eyes grew larger as their speed increased…and the ledge came, she closed her eyes…

The cool night breeze fluttering through her hair, licking at her damp skin…

It seemed endless, and finally Hermione opened her eyes as the ground rushed up to greet them. Her body shifting and she scrambled to stay on as Frienze reached behind him, stabilizing her. "Almost there." He said.

And he was right, Hermione no sooner adjusted her seating and handholds, and Frienze stepped onto the edge of the North Lawn.

"Our journey must part ways here," He said, as Hermione slid off. "You have perhaps ten minutes until Ryklar brings Minerva. It will be to the West of Hogwarts, close to the Lake."

Hermione stepped around him and winced at the many cuts littering his arms, chest and torso. "Frienze, I…"

"Go, Hermione. You haven't time." He said hurriedly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, mind registering his comments…Minerva's actions, and she found herself uttering something she never would have thought she would have said to a centaur after what she had witnessed two hours ago. "Thank you."

"Give my best to Minerva." His soft voice whispered before he turned at once, body disappearing into the edge of the forest.

Hermione turned around, "Milksy." She said loudly, quickly repeating the house elf's name. "Milksy."

A crack resonated to her side, the light skinned house elf appearing beside her. "Yes, Professor's Granger."

"I need you to get the elder house elf, the one who works with Minerva."

Milksy frowned, shaking her head. "I's can nots bring him. He's busy with…"

"Go and get him, now." Hermione's voice was firm, "Minerva has been gravelly injured."

Milksy needed no additional prompting, in a crack, she was gone. Hermione began running across the lawn, her mind ticking through what needed to happen before Ryklar returned with Minerva.

A blinding flash appeared in front of her, causing her to stumble and stop. "Where is Mistress?" He asked, eyes blinking up at her.

"She will be here in less than ten minutes, by the Lake. A centaur is bringing her."

Elgin didn't seem fazed by the news, his voice remaining steady. "Anything's else?"

"Do you have a way to get me to the other side of the Hogwarts's gates, I must bring Helena here."

"I's gets Blonde's, you'se must greet the centaur." He raised his hand to snap his fingers.

"Wait, that's all? What about Helena? Where should I bring her?" Hermione asked trying to keep her hysteria minimal.

"Brings Mistress along the Eastern entrance, you'se will know what way to her rooms. I's have Blonde's here by the time you'se be there." Elgin didn't remain for a response; he had to find Helena, immediately.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Helena blinked once more, her eyes unwilling to focus anymore on the document before her. Tiredly, she reached up, fingers pushing her glasses up as she rubbed the bridge of her nose before applying pressure to the inner corners of her eyes. She held her hand there for a solid minute, before releasing her fingers and adjusting her glasses back onto her face.

The end result was not what she had desired, her eyes were still fatigued and unwilling to focus. With a sigh, she pulled the quill from her ink pot. Resting the tip

upon the blotter as she fastened the cap, the documents would have to wait until tomorrow. As much as she dreaded the thought of coming back here in the morning, she would have to. She was far too tired tonight.

With a groan she pushed her chair back from her desk, and stood, stretching her arms outright. She could feel the tension in her muscles, the soreness, along with the stiffness of her joints.

Helena glanced to the clock, it was twenty to twelve. _Wonder if Minerva is still up?_ She thought, a smile gracing her face at the thought of fire calling her friend just after midnight to wish her happy birthday.

She could already hear the Scottish rebuttal regarding her foolishness. How she could have just waited until the morning…

Glancing up, she saw Dily's feigning sleep in her painting. "Is Minerva awake?"

Dily's jostled, yawning. "Huh?"

Helena eyed the elder Administrator, brow arched. "You heard me."

With a heavy sigh, she nodded. "Between the both of you…" She shook her head, "Let me check." And at once she stepped away.

Helena summoned her cloak, absently tucking her glasses in the pocket along her collarbone before clasping her cloak.

"She has yet to return since before I left." Her soft voice stated.

Helena frowned, eyes glancing to the clock again. _Odd_, she thought. _Minerva rarely stays out late anymore._ "Did she say where she was going?"

Dily's mouth merely drew into a thin line in response.

"Damn the Hogwarts' wards and oath of the Headmaster." She muttered, recognizing her response for what it was. _Yes, she knew. She couldn't tell._ "At least confirm that she did not go alone."

Dily pondered her request, "I believe Professor Granger has been absent from the castle this evening, too."

Helena felt a measure of relief sweep through her, _At least Hermione's with her_. "Thank you Dily." She said giving her a curt nod.

"Good evening Helena." She said, several other portraits chiming in their good-byes.

"I shall see you tomorrow." She replied hand reaching into the floo powder, withdrawing an ample handful. Harrison's Hovel." She said throwing the powder into the fire, green flames erupting…

"Blonde's…" Elgin's voice halting her step into the flame. "You'se must come to Hogwarts."

Helena placed her hand upon the mantle, turning to the elder house elf. "Dily just said Minerva wasn't there..."

"She is not." He confirmed, "She's be's broughts by centaur, Professor Granger said she is most unwell."

Helena immediately stepped away from the fire. "Are her injuries open wounds or magic…"

He shook his tiny head, "You'se knows what I's do." He nodded to the grate, "The floo's been opened. She's is coming…"

Helena stepped to her desk, yanking a drawer open…and as it fell to the ground she reached deep into the desk, fingers curling around worn leather handles of her old medical bag and wrenched it from the depths dislodging another drawer in the process. Quills, documents, bottles, wax, her seal…flew through the air, scattering across the floor as Helena spun back around.

Her fatigue forgotten as she grabbed another hand of floo powder. "Headmistress of Hogwarts." Again the fire flashed green and this time Helena didn't pause as she stepped within.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

Hermione was out of breath as she stopped in front of the Lake, not very far from where she and Minerva had talked barely a week ago. She forced herself to relax, taking deep breaths…and finally taking a moment to inspect her arms, and she cringed. The outer part of her sweater was shredded, bloodied and strains of cotton hung open. She would need to see a healer this evening, after Minerva was…

Just the thought of Minerva brought tears to her eyes at what she had witnessed this evening. The heartache, the pain, the loss, the anger, rage…so much sadness…at what point was it all too much? Where was the joy?

Crackling twigs brought her eyes upright as Ryklar stepped through the underbrush, Minerva carefully tucked in the crooks of his arms. "She has not stirred." He said stepping closer, the moon glinting off his black hair as his eyes glanced from the lawns to the great stone castle, "Go, I shall carry her until the entrance.

Hermione didn't argue, merely turned and began jogging to the side of the castle, Ryklar easily cantering beside her. As they passed the stone walkway, he inquired if that was not the way.

"Main entrance yes, to help…no." Hermione gasped out.

Within a minute and a half, he was stretching his arms out, gently laying the still body of Minerva McGonagall into her arms. Blood seeping through the woolen blanket along her legs, _the wounds across her thighs_, Hermione thought as Ryklar removed his arms…her own body straining to remain upright.

Ryklar gave her a pointed nod before she turned and entered the castle, Minerva shifting slightly from the movement. Her mouth barely uttering, "Duiluch…"

"Almost there." Hermione said, focusing on their destination and how quickly she could arrive to Minerva's chambers. She was about to dart down the lower corridor, when she noticed a blue outline along the wall, the elder house elf's words echoing in her mind. _You'se will know what way to her rooms._

Instead of heading toward the lower corridor, she walked to the blue light…not knowing how this would help, but was pleasantly surprised when the wall opened, revealing a passageway behind it. Hermione paused for but a moment, not remembering this passage on the marauder's map. Upon stepping inside, the wall swung closed, and as soon as the light vanished from the corridor…a row of torches sprung to life along a five foot wide hall.

She looked to the left and the right…and was about to guess, when the lights to the right extinguished themselves. It seemed even Hogwarts was trying to help her save Minerva. At once, she took down the hallway, bending, twisting…thinking it would take as long if not longer to reach her rooms this way than going through the main doors, up the central steps…

However, her thought was grossly misguided as a the wall opened, and as Hermione stepped out…she realized she was in none other than Minerva's sitting room above her office.

She could hear a rustle below, "Hello?"

"Hermione?" Helena asked, scrambling to the back of Minerva's office.

"Were up…here." She said, swinging around…frantically looking for a place to lay Minerva.

Helena's long legs were taking two steps at a time as she clambered up the brass staircase. "What happened?"

"Went to the centaurs," Hermione said about ready to lay her on the sofa…the door bursting open.

"The bed…" Helena said pointing to another room.

Hermione was already removing her arm, "I'll transfigure it…" She said pulling her wand out, and before Helena had crossed the room, the sofa had become a double wide bed.

"What else?" Helena asked, grimacing as she approached Minerva's head, immediately noticing her ashen color, the large swollen knot upon her forehead…tear stained cheeks… _What in blazes happened that Minerva would actually allow herself to cry? _Then she noticed the large blood stain upon her lower body. "What happened?" Helena asked again, wand already waving in the air as she ran a cursory diagnostic.

"She partook in a centaur ceremony." Hermione said, the reality of what had just transpired beginning to seep into Hermione's mind.

Helena's wand stroke stopped mid-stroke upon hearing Hermione's statement. Dread filling her veins, "Not the Hukbar." She said turning away from Minerva, to see Hermione's response and at the younger witch's absent nod, Helena almost collapsed in grief.

"Yes…I don't know what it is…"

"Dear Merlin, Minerva." Helena forced herself to finish casting the series of diagnostic spells, "What on earth would possess…" She snapped her mouth shut on her tirade, but then found she couldn't stop it. "I don't suppose you know…"

"What is it?" Hermione asked, still wondering what exactly was going on.

Helena watched the magic coalesce, the colors change…blackness swirling along the edges. Minerva was very close to death. "Listen very carefully, I need you to repeat back what memories you saw or heard."

"I…" Hermione stammered, thinking back… "She began at Wilhemenia's the day of the attack, from just last…"

"Next." Helena said banishing the blanket and gasping at the bloody robes encompassing her friend. Her analytical mind forcing her emotions away, she needed control…not compassion right now. Compassion would not save her. Wilhemenia's…her eyes jerked to the bloody shoulder, one injury explained…not severe.

Hermione had known that Minerva's robes had been woeful, but she had been unprepared to see the extent…her mouth just hanging open as her eyes raked over Minerva's eerily still body.

Helena hadn't heard Hermione…and as she turned, she knew why. Hermione was standing, unmoving – in shock at the site before her. "Focus Hermione, what happened next."

"Ahhh…." Hermione licked her parched lips, "The day after Wilhemenia's, she received a letter from Harry stating…"

"Next." Helena snapped.

"Two months ago, when Johannes and Minerva met…"

"Did it include the duel?" Helena asked, cutting Hermione off.

Hermione thought back, shaking her head. "No, it stopped at the point where she blew him backwards."

At that, Helena paused. "So she used magic?"

Hermione frowned, "I guess, I don't know. I mean it was a memory, wasn't it?"

Helena didn't have time to explain, "Was that all?"

"No, she was then in Madrid, I guess."

"Madrid?" Helena began thinking back to when Minerva had been in Madrid recently…

"It was one of the times she found Johannes…"

Helena gasped, "Her legs…"

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "How did you know?" She asked as Helena raised her wand but stopped at the look upon Hermione's face.

"There was more?" Helena stated, dreading the response.

"Yes." Hermione felt tears prickling her eyes, "The evening Esmerele died."

Helena fought for a breath as her mind absorbed what Hermione had said. She could feel the tears pooling in her own eyes, "I need…" She forced her emotions at bay, "To stop the bleeding from the wounds in her thighs first." She turned to Hermione, "And I need you to help."

"I don't know the first thing about healer's magic."

"Good." Helena said, "Now, go around her head and hold her shoulders."

"You want me to hold her down?" Hermione asked disbelieving. _The woman was passed out for Merlin's sake. _

"No, I need you to start talking to her and repeat anything she says aloud so I can hear it."

"What am I suppose to say?" Hermione asked feeling panicked.

"Anything, Hermione. But talk." Helena snapped, "Minerva has to realize that these events happened years ago. Not today."

"But her wounds?"

"Simply, the Hukbar ceremony forces participants to not only relive the event as if it were happening, but any acts that happen to the body in the memory…happen to the body in reality. Now talk Hermione and place your hands upon her shoulders, because when I heal her legs, she'll need to be held down."

Hermione reached up, placing her one hand upon her uninjured shoulder and hesitated to put any weight upon her other. She finally settled for making it appear to Helena that her hand was pressing down, and sighed as she tried to figure out what on earth to speak to Minerva about.

"I…" She sighed, "I'm sorry about being late this afternoon." She began, but stopped as Minerva's glasses vanished, her hair spilled out from her bun…ebony locks falling across Hermione's bloody forearms, and all of her clothing, save for a thin ivory, chemise that was blood stained along her left breast and down the side and matching lace ivory underwear.

Hermione's breath caught…as did Helena's as the extent of damage was seen by both women.

From the tips of her fingers to her collarbone along both arms, Minerva's skin was charred black…thin puncture holes were beneath Hermione's hand along her shoulder, dark angry marks showed through the ivory chemise along her ribs, her left hip appeared dislocated and Hermione shuddered to think partially broke, and lastly was the large horrifying wounds that had split her quadriceps muscles almost in two and carving into the bone.

"Hold…her." Helena's broken voice bringing Hermione back to the present.

Hermione tightened her fingers upon the soft flesh, and as Helena moved her wand to cast the spell…Hermione couldn't help but let her eyes travel across Minerva's body. The wounds were extensive, severely so. Yet…she had known Minerva's body had been fit, had even seen her wear an evening gown years ago that had left both her and Ginny wishing to be able to wear such attire at the Headmistress' age, but to see her…so close…

Minerva's body jerked as Helena's spell touched her legs and Helena's brows knitted together as she concentrated, harder. The effect was immediate, Minerva began thrashing…

"Ahhh…" She screamed trying to sit upright, slide her torso away…eyes fluttering… "Fuirich!" _(Stop!)_

"Hold her!" Helena's face contorting as Minerva screamed out for her to stop again. A tear sliding down her cheek, wishing for but a moment that she had not learned Gaelic…as Minerva's head thrashed back, black fingers digging into the bed, neck straining…as Helena watched Minerva's muscle begin to knit back together…then she saw a blue shimmer.

One she had become acutely familiar with over the years. She ended her spell at once.

"What are you…"

"Let her go!" Helena yelped, "Now!"

Hermione immediately withdrew her hands, as a blue and alabaster glow swept over Minerva. She could feel the magic pulsating around the older witch, and then the blackness began to fall from her burnt arms and hands…

Helena was shaking her head, wand clattering to the floor…hand coming up to her mouth as her nightmare of a memory from thirteen years ago became a reality again.

Minerva's head was tipped back, hair splaying across the white sheets, jaw clenched, face etched in pain, her back arched upright, feet digging into the edge of the bed…

"Fuirich!" She screamed…voice echoing off the stone walls, ringing in her ears.

Hermione glanced up to Helena, her face joining the ashen color of Minerva's. "What did she say?" As she stepped closer to other witch. "What's happening to her!?"

Helena swallowed as the glow intensified, "The spell I spoke of…" Her eyes misting over as Minerva's moans and thrashing mirrored those from all those years ago. "She said, Stop." She whispered to Hermione.

"Stop?" Hermione asked, ensuring she had heard correctly.

"Tha mi duiluch…" She breathed out, "Toilieh…Fuirich…" Voice ragged as her breaths, "God…fuirich…" She cried...the glow pulsing again, "Bitheadh'm…básaich…"

A tear dripped off Helena's jaw, "I'm sorry. Please, stop." Helena's voice barely grazing Hermione's ears. "God, stop…let me die."

"Toilieh!" Minerva cried out again, voice breaking in agony. "Ahh…" Her muscles clenching…the distinct outlines of her body melting away… "Toilieh…" Voice fading into moans…

"Please." Helena said, heart filling with sorrow at what Minerva was going through…and the knowledge that she not only survived, again…but another had witnessed it.

Hermione watched as the glow pulsed outward one more time, and then it vanished…Minerva's body crumpling to the bed, healed.

Gone was her blackened arms, hands…even the knot upon her head…

Hermione starred dumbstruck at the woman, creamy porcelain skin greeting her eyes. "What in blazes just happened?"

"She needs to sleep." Helena stated, turning away and bending over to pick up her wand.

"Yes, but…" Hermione spun around, "What…" She threw her hands up in the air, "What happened, just now?"

Helena sighed, "Go, get yourself a few hours sleep, and return here. I will ask Elgin to grant you entry this evening."

"Are you going to just ignore what is a medical impossibility?" Hermione snapped. "And my question?"

"The spell I spoke of while treating you the evening after your return from the Simmons, on August 14th." She met Hermione's angry gaze, pointing to Minerva. "That is the end result. And that is the only answer I can give you, Hermione." Her arm fell to her side, "She is my friend, and for better or worse, I will do whatever I can to protect that which needs protecting. Some days it is her secrets, other days it is her family, and on the rare occasion the woman who exists behind the legend of Minerva McGonagall…who just happens to be lying on that bed."

"As will I." Hermione replied, her words startling Helena. "But, I have not known her for a lifetime Helena, and I merely seek understanding."

"She trusts you." A gentle smile gracing her tired eyes, "And enabled you to be partisan to events in her life that a rare few know about. But," She took a deep breath, "What you need to do to help Minerva is get some rest. I will wait here until you relieve me." At Hermione's perplexed look, Helena continued on, "Esmerele died only one month after Albus, and it greatly affected our esteemed friend. Additionally, it was the first time, shall we say, the Hogwarts' spell, had affected her adversely too. She remained reclusive for most of the summer, forcing the Board of Governors to place Severus as the Headmaster because those who were willing to place Minerva as the Headmistress could not contact her. She lost close to twenty pounds…and there was a void of hollowness that she seemed to exude." She shook her head, "I have no idea what finally brought her back to the woman we know, and when I asked about it…" She grimaced as she recalled the two times she had inquired about it. "Strained even our friendship."

Hermione flinched at Helena's words, wondering what had happened to Minerva to bring her back from the brink. "What do you need me to do?"

"Be here when she awakens." Helena stated, "She must realize that Esmerele died thirteen years ago, even though to her it will feel as though it were last evening."

Hermione nodded and turned to leave, "I'll be back in three hours."

"Hermione." Helena stepped forward, pointing to her arms, "Hold your arms out." Hermione did as she was told, "This will hurt a bit…" And she twirled the end of her wand within the palm of her hand, "Accio thorns."

Immediately the thorns jumped from Hermione's skin and she winced, "Oww." She frowned, "I could have done that." She glanced down at the now open and bleeding sores on her arms, "And probably with less infliction of pain."

Helena's lip curled upward, "True, but that was for almost killing Minerva. And…" She waved her wand again, the bleeding immediately stopped, "I doubt you would have been able to do that." With another wave, a brown bottle appeared in her hand. "Now, rub this on your cheek and arms, it will help heal them prior to class on Monday."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

_A/N: Think that is enough for a weekend? Or would you like to see tomorrow, Minerva's birthday, too? ;)_


	20. Chapter 19 October 4th, 2009

**Chapter 19 ~ October 4****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

Hermione had relieved Helena three hours ago, the witch looking as tired as she felt. _"I'll be back just after sunrise with Harold. We'll take the six hours after that, and also deal with her children…as I doubt she'll want to celebrate her birthday with festivities today."_

_I forgot._ Hermione thought as she nodded to Helena. _With everything else going on this past week, including her ear splitting argument with Ron in the afternoon…she had forgotten that today was Minerva's birthday. _

She would grab a few hours sleep and go up to London and shop. But what do you get a woman who has everything? Or at least the ability to get whatever they wish?

Hermione had spent the last three hours contemplating that notion. And she had yet to come up with any ideas.

Eyes drifting upwards to the woman laying less than five feet away. Minerva had barely moved since her arrival, which was quite different from Helena's report who had said she had been extremely restless.

A sheet and tartan blanket was pulled up over her body as she lay on her back, her left arm lifted out from beneath the coverings though the sheet was pulled up along the outer part of her arm, the corner balled up within her hand, fingers clenched around the sheet…head resting against her bicep, long black hair draped across her arm, pillow and bed. Her normally expressionless face looked far different as she slept.

Hermione found herself starring...mesmerized by the angle of her cheek bones, the way her jaw appeared without tension…how long her eye lashes really were…the subtle lines of her nose…as it led to her full lips…

Elgin popped in, eyes blinking up at her. "I's brings you'se some more tea." He said picking up the pot, a note in his hand.

Hermione pointed to the folded paper, "Is that for me?"

Elgin immediately withdrew his hand, dropping it behind his waist. "Is not something you'se should be seeing." His eyes darted over to Minerva, "Is for Mistress."

"You can leave it Elgin," She said pointing to the table, "I won't touch it."

An owl chirped below and he huffed, setting the paper down on the table beside the bed. "You'se shown great trust." And then he snapped his fingers and was gone and back with a copy of the Daily Prophet and a pot of fresh tea. "You'se can be reading this. Mistress not mind." And then he was gone.

Hermione stretched out her hand, pouring her eighth cup of tea as she opened the Prophet. Her eyes scanning the headlines, noting that Noraan Nash had been found dead yesterday. Hermione quickly scanned Nash's biography and stopped upon seeing the words Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures…

"That's three…" She mumbled, disheartened.

"Three?" Minerva muttered, blinking. Her thoughts disjointed as dozens of memories surfaced…their sequences making no sense.

Hermione scrambled up, setting her tea down. "Minerva." She stood and quickly sat on the edge of the bed.

"I…" She narrowed her eyes at the blurry image of a woman with brown hair, "Who?" She frowned, not recognizing her. And where in Merlin's name was she? And why did she feel as though she had been through a wizard's duel…three of them, sequentially?

Hermione felt her breath catch, "Its Hermione. We went to the Glade last night, with the…"

"Centaurs." Minerva said, remembering…the rocks striking her side, their conversation leaving from Hogwarts. "The gildings."

Hermione nodded, and before she could say anything further…tears began pooling in her emerald eyes, glistening in the candlelight as a trembling hand released the edge of the sheet to come to her lips as she sat upright, "Esmerele."

The tartan cover and sheet tumbled from Minerva's body and Hermione felt a blush creep onto her face…as she realized that Minerva had no top on. She couldn't imagine Minerva sleeping without clothing, but then again…Helena had tucked her in last night. And as Minerva heart wrenchingly spoke Esmerele's name…Hermione pushed aside her momentary unease. She'd figure out what that was all about, later. Right now, Minerva needed her. And she found herself letting three precious seconds tick by, struggling over the notion of what she had to say, knowing that she had to, but the words seemed so callous…and cold. "It happened thirteen years ago, Minerva."

A trail of tears slipped down her black eyelashes, as she turned, irises focusing on Hermione trying to comprehend her words and the jumble of memories.

"You participated in a centaur ceremony, the Hukbar. The death of Esmerele was the last memory…"

Minerva could smell the brine from the Manor, the warmth of Esmerele's blood as it dripped down the backsides of her hands, the sound of her voice…but also the look in Johannes' eyes as he realized who she was after all those years of him believing she had died...her duel against Johannes and how she had chosen to save the muggle family…her conversation with Frienze in the morning…

"It's all a jumble…" She closed her eyes, as she tried to find her core reserves, her mask so to speak, to hide behind…she couldn't break down in front of Hermione, she wouldn't…she just needed…a minute. Using the sum of her willpower, she opened her eyes, searching and finding Hermione's… "Can you, give me a few minutes?" She asked, hands now drawn at her waist, made into fists.

In all the time she had known the formidable woman, Hermione had never seen her look so utterly lost. She hadn't even tried to cover herself up…the sheets stilled pooled at her waist. Her emerald eyes bordering on panic. She almost said yes, except Helena's words ringing in her head. _Whatever you do, do not leave her until I arrive. _"I wish I could." The truth of her words evident in her voice, "But Helena asked me not to."

Minerva tipped her head skyward, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "Helena." Her voice cracking, wishing she was here versus Hermione. "She was here?"

"Elgin brought her after we returned." Hermione replied watching as Minerva finally dropped her head back down, gaze looking away from her.

Minerva vaguely asked another question, her soul feeling torn between her memories and the reality. "Were we successful?"

Hermione could hear the beginnings of the wall usually encompassing Minerva begin to return, the clipped, precise words, perfect posture. Something compelled her to reach out, "Don't hide behind work." She whispered as her fingers tentatively touched Minerva's bare shoulder. "Even though it happened thirteen years ago, I know it feels as though you just lost Esmerele."

The mention of her daughter broke the minute barrier she had constructed as memories poured through her, "I…"

Hermione covered the last of the space separating the distance between her and Minerva, and wrapped her left arm around the woman from behind. She felt Minerva become rigid at the contact, but she didn't move away. "I'm sorry." She whispered, as she slowly reached up and then gently ran her right hand down Minerva's long black hair, soothingly.

Minerva wanted to pull away, to run…but she couldn't, she didn't have the strength…the will…and it had been so long since she had sank into an embrace…but the times seemed off…Albus had just died last month or was it thirteen years ago...? The gentle strokes of her hair, the warmth of the body behind her…she found herself collapsing backwards…head turning and sinking into the other woman's chest as her body shifted. She reached her hand around, fingers curling around the surplus of the woman's fabric along her side…tears falling from her eyes.

Seconds gave way to minutes…Hermione silently stroking Minerva's hair as the elder woman's quiet sobs lessened. She went to shift her weight around, but stopped as Minerva tightened her grip…a soft voice breaking through her sobs and lancing Hermione's heart. "Don't. Leave."

"I won't…" Hermione said trying to keep her voice steady, "But I need to shift…" Minerva relaxed her hands and began to pull away, but Hermione kept her arm around Minerva's waist…holding Minerva, to her as she moved her leg… "Better." She said adjusting the sheet and blanket back across Minerva's body as she laid her head back down, eyes closing…enjoying the sweet scent of almond that encased her.

"None of it makes sense…time's off." She murmured, "It's like…waking up at the same time in six different days. I don't know what day it is."

Hermione smiled, "Your birthday."

"My birthday?" Her voice fading, as she recalled the meeting with the Board of Governors…how she had been running late… "I don't remember…" Her lilt becoming more pronounced, "I…can't get past, Esmerele…" Tears burning against the back of her eyes, "Thirteen years." She choked, "It feels like she died yesterday, I was…" She stared outwards, one of her hands falling and pooling the sheet into her hand, fingers absently flipping along the hem. "Running late…"

Hermione paused, turning her head to see Minerva's profile. "We all run late sometimes…"

"From a meeting with the Governors," Minerva continued on as if not hearing Hermione's statement, her soul taking the opportunity to cleanse an old wound that had never been properly healed. For she had never spoken of what had happened prior to Esmerele's death, why she was meeting Tessa at the Manor…only that she had arrived at the property, no one questioned it. Why would they, that's where she lived – or at least where they thought she lived. "Several wanted to close Hogwarts, stating it was no longer safe. Lucius…" Her breath caught, "Only wished to open it for pure bloods."

Hermione didn't move, listening to her soft voice. Imagining how Minerva would have felt at the meeting, just a month prior Albus had been killed and then they wished to take Hogwarts away too or at least drastically modify those who attended.

"The arguments that ensued…" Minerva paused, "Even Filius' face matched that of Gryffindor's colors."

Hermione couldn't stop the chuckle from erupting from her lips. "Sorry." She mumbled, a smile still upon her lips.

"I too found it humorous at the time." She said, eyes opening and starring out…images of the meeting and day so fresh. "Especially when Filius stated that none of the teachers would return without all the students attending. Lucius' expression was priceless, and ended the notion of splitting the school."

"And the closing of Hogwarts? How did you get them to agree to keep it open?" Hermione asked, feeling Minerva shift slightly.

Minerva could feel the tears sliding off her nose, down her cheek and into Hermione's robes. "My contract expired with Hogwarts."

Hermione knew she was missing several details not enabling her to have a baseline to piece together what she needed to understand Minerva's comment. "I don't understand." She whispered softly, running her hand down her hair.

"We all operate on contracts, at the time I had just finished my fortieth year and the end of a five year contract." The tears now totally obscuring her vision as she continued on, "I had not planned on returning after Albus' death."

"And the Governors knew this."

"Yes." She murmured. "I had already spoken to them about Filius running Hogwarts."

"But it wasn't enough…" Hermione stated, realizing what Minerva had done. "They wouldn't keep Hogwarts open…"

"Unless I agreed to return. They wanted to name me the Headmistress that day, but I asked them not to be hasty as I had arrangements already in progress and would not commit."

"But you committed to coming back to teach?"

"Yes." She replied, "And the meeting broke shortly afterwards."

Hermione knew that Minerva would not have readily consented unless there was no other choice. The meeting would have run long indeed. "Which caused you be late to a meeting with Esmerele?"

"No…with Tessa." Her voice breaking, sobs racking her body, "I was supposed to be there…she would be…alive…"

"You don't know that." Hermione replied, "You yourself stated that the fabric of time is a very delicate thing."

Minerva never heard Hermione's comment, as flashes of Esmerele lying upon the Manor's lawn, blood draining from her body…another member of her family who had perished upon the front lawns…breaths coming faster, sobs harder…as her soul cried.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It had been twenty minutes since Minerva had moved, her breathing leveling off about the same time. She didn't know how light a sleeper Minerva was, but her own body needed some relief especially after eight cups of tea.

With great care, Hermione removed her arm from Minerva's waist and replaced the edge of the pillowcase for her sweater in Minerva's left hand. Slowly she maneuvered herself off the bed, replacing a large down pillow for her waist before taking a minute to readjust the blanket and sheet up over Minerva's shoulders. Hermione could tell the air temperature had dropped a few more degrees as the first inkling of morning began to grace the skies. With a flick of her wand, a fire burst to life and she summoned a pillow from one of the other chairs and transfigured it into a thick navy afghan, draping it over Minerva's body.

"Elgin." She whispered stepping away from Minerva.

"Yes?" He asked, and Hermione turned, surprised at how quiet the house elf had appeared.

"The bathroom?" She asked, eyes sweeping across the six doors…only knowing where two of them led.

"There." Elgin pointed.

"And, the paper you brought?"

Elgin's eyes darted to the folded parchment and then back, "Yes?"

"I don't believe she will be up to reading it today." Hermione stated watching worried eyes rove over to the Headmistress. "Perhaps tomorrow."

Yellow eyes blinked and then nodded. "Perhaps." He said, and with a snap, he vanished…as did the paper.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo

Harold watched as his wife tiredly fastened her crimson robes. "Are you sure you want me to come?"

Helena paused mid-button as she glanced up, "Yes. Not only for her, but me too."

"Hey," He stepped around the edge of the vanity, arms already upon her shoulders, "She'll be alright."

Helena closed her eyes, nodding. "I hope so." She quietly breathed out as her husband pulled her into his arms.

He held her close against his chest, "You said it was like the evening after Esmerele died?"

She nodded in his embrace, "Even her speaking in Gaelic…the only difference was the extent of her wounds, she had additional physical damage, and that she was already at Hogwarts."

"Being at Hogwarts had to have helped." He replied as she pulled back, taking a deep breath. He remembered when Helena had come home thirteen years ago, exhausted and thoroughly dejected that despite everything she had done, it didn't seem as though it was enough to save Minerva's life or even stabilize her. Helena, in combination with healers from around Europe had worked on the venerable witch throughout the night, to no avail. At daybreak, it was decided there was nothing left they could do, except for make her last hours comfortable. Helena had come home to shower and grab a bit of food before returning to her bedside vigil along with Minerva's last remaining son and daughter. Harold had accompanied Helena back to St. Mungos, not only to see how bad Minerva truly was, which at the time he did not entirely believe that the great Minerva McGonagall had been wounded severely enough to land her in St. Mungos, but…he had also gone to be there for his wife, who was barely holding it together herself. When they arrived, he had been utterly shocked at the damage done to Minerva's arms and hands – it reminded him of how Albus' hand had looked after the cursed ring in the old Riddle House…except it had not been confined to just her hand. It had been up her arms…and what you couldn't see was the internal damage it had caused to her lungs and heart.

Shortly after they had arrived, the family left to shower and eat…and that's when Minerva woke up…

_Harold stared into milky green eyes, hazed with pain. "Minerva, dear." He whispered, Helena immediately at his side._

_"We're here." She stated in reassurance as Minerva narrowed her eyes. "It's Helena and Harold, dear."_

_"…to leave." Minerva rasped._

_"We aren't going anywhere." Helena's voice breaking. "We're right here."_

_Minerva let a rattling breath out as she slowly took another one in, eyes closing from the effort. _

_Helena pulled a cloth from a basin of water to lay on her forehead, when Minerva grimaced, pain flashing across her ashen face. "You're doing fine." Harold forced the lie from his lips, causing Helena to glare at him, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want her to know how bad it was…really, what was the point?_

_"Need…" Minerva groaned eyes fluttering open, "To leave."_

_"You're in St. Mungos, dear. We're doing everything we can." Helena gently placed the cloth on her burning forehead, "You have severe burns up both of your arms."_

_Minerva reached out, withered blackened hand wrapping around Harold's. "Toilieh." She whispered, voice raw as she forced her eyes open…opaque green eyes boring into his as she pleaded. "To Hogwarts."_

_Harold spoke before Helena had an opportunity to react, "You need to go to Hogwarts?"_

_Minerva let loose of his hand, face relaxing, breathing leveling off. "Yes." _

_"Alright, love." He said as he reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I'll take you."_

_Helena's tirade had been severe. He had only seen her as angry with him one other time, when he had almost gotten himself killed. Before they had been married…_

_"I will __**not**__ allow anyone, and that includes __**you**__ to take Minerva from this facility! She is not fit to travel, let alone survive the apparition! And since when do we listen to our patients, Minerva of all people? She is the worst one of the lot, walked around with a broken fibia for close to a month before even thinking to seek assistance!"_

_"Helena…"_

_"And don't Helena me! You are not able to throw your weight around in this building! If I say she doesn't go, it's final. She doesn't go! Do you understand, Harold?"_

_"Helena…"_

_"I won't let you kill her because of her __**need**__ to see Albus' tomb one final time!"_

_"Helena…"_

_"She __**must**__ remain in a sterile environment, the chance of infection…"_

_"Stop." Harold said, waving his wand…immobilizing his wife. And before he could say anything, a low chuckle could be heard from the bystander lying next to them._

_"Good thing…" Minerva quirked her mouth upwards, "Already…married."_

_"Yes, it is." He said, turning to his wife, "That way she'll feel guilty about killing me, as I'm the father of our children." He slid his wand into his belt, "The spell will release in two minutes, and you are free to follow dear. But Minerva asked to be returned to Hogwarts, and whether you have accepted the fact or not, she is dying. The wounds are too extensive," He said knowing that his words were piercing his wife's heart as they injured his own. "We both owe her so much, and if she wishes to die at Hogwarts by her husband's grave, versus live another day perhaps two in anguish, then it is the least I can do."_

_He leaned down, "I'm sorry, Minerva…" He slipped his hand under her legs, and then paused at her shoulders. "This is going to hurt."_

_She didn't respond to him and after a second, he placed his right arm beneath her back and then lifted. He took another few seconds to carefully adjust her within his arms, before whispering. "Now, our escape." He said before opening the door. The length of the hall, he didn't see one person, nor in the elevator, but as the doors chimed and he was about to step off…that was another story entirely._

_The reception area was bustling with hundreds of witches, wizards, healers, and even a muggle or two. He would never make it across the floor with Minerva in his arms without being stopped a dozen times, and Helena would be free by then. "You realize," He whispered, "That this stunt may very well destroy my marriage."_

_And Harold Harrison did something he had sworn to Helena he would never do near St. Mungos; he opened a vortex. 'Well', he thought, as everything in its entirety jolted toward the field, 'I never promised I wouldn't open one inside St. Mungos'. Parchment, hats, people, pets, chairs...he didn't have time to see how much mayhem he had actually caused, Helena was undoubtedly on her way down and with that thought, he stepped through and out into the manicured lawns in front of Hogwarts' Gates. Despite years of trials, he had yet to master a vortex within the fabled wards. After a while, it became a running joke between he, Minerva and Albus…neither giving him an adequate explanation as to what ward counter-acted the vortex. Merely commenting that it was a mystery and he did after all work in that department, so it should be an area he was familiar with._

_Immediately the gate swung open…_

_"I see you have retained your free entry pass." He murmured, wondering how Hogwarts had known she was here._

_"Wait!" Helena said as the gate swung close._

_Harold turning back to her, "Either my spell didn't hold you for a full two minutes, or I've lost track of twenty seconds."_

_"Let me in." She said, hand pulling on the iron fence._

_"I'm sure Hagrid will be along shortly." Harold said, wishing he could abide by his wife's wishes._

_"I was wrong." Helena breathed into the still air. "Harold, Minerva…I was wrong." She choked, "Let me come with you."_

_Harold turned back to see the tears in her eyes, matching his own. "Helena, I…" He wanted to believe her with everything in his being, but he knew that regarding the care of her patients, even he could come second._

_"I won't…" She rattled the fence once more, "I didn't even stop to help the throng of injured now littering my reception area, because I want to be with the two of you. I was wrong, Harold." Harold didn't have to move, as the gate released its rusty latch granting her entry._

_Helena sprung forward, rushing to where Harold and Minerva were, and upon reaching them, leaned in and gave Harold a deep kiss that momentarily robbed him of his breath._

_"I'm sorry." They both said at the same time as they broke apart, and then their eyes collectively dropped to Minerva._

_"Come." Harold began quickly moving across the grass. "Her breathing has gone shallow." They crested the small knoll before Albus' tomb, "We haven't much time."_

_Elgin popped right in front of them, eyes blinking up at them. "You'se must take her to Mistress rooms. You'se musten hurry." He said pointing to Hogwarts._

_Helena and Harold both stared at the house elf, they had seen him numerous times over the years, had been borderline friendly…he and Helena even traded jokes, but he had not been seen since Albus' death. "Elgin, she wants to see Albus…"_

_He flopped his head, "No's, the Masters portrait at the Ridge asked me to finds you'se…he's being saying she's has to go'se to her rooms."_

_"We…"_

_Elgin narrowed his eyes, jaw clenching. "I'se sorry." He then stepped forward and touched Helena and Harold, taking them to Minerva's inner rooms. The effect was immediate as she gasped…a blue and alabaster light began swirling through the floor. Harold looked to Helena, her expression telling him all he needed to know, she had no idea what in Merlin was going on either._

_"Set her down." Helena said, noticing the bands of alabaster and blue were becoming wider, the magic circling her…stronger…_

"Hermione Granger was there too." She began to finish fastening her robes.

He frowned, "I don't believe Minerva is going to be very keen on that."

"Especially since she saw Minerva get healed."

"As in…_healed_." He put a bit of emphasis upon the word.

She nodded, grabbing her glasses off the vanity. "As in her rooms…the same."

"How's her magical stores?" He asked, both walking through the doorway.

"Just over 40 percent." She uttered, trying to remain focused.

He reached out, hand upon her waist. "You're saying she lost 20 percent from her escapade yesterday?"

Helena's blond hair bobbed, "Yes."

"Helena." His breath fluttering across her ear. "Talk to me."

"At this rate…" She brought up and threw her arms down in frustration. "Dammit, Harold." She spun around voice rising, "She has given so Gods damned much to the wizarding world, more than what anyone will ever know and more than anyone should ever have to give up. And now she is going to die saving it because she has to."

"And you wouldn't have her be any other way. She's your best friend, and you love her because she is so damn uncompromising, steadfast, annoyingly prideful, and willing to go to any lengths to protect those she cares about."

Helena's lip quivered at his words, a tear hanging off her blond lashes… "She's declining too fast, she needs to slow down."

"That's like telling you not to heal someone."

"But, she'll be dead by the middle of the summer."

Harold's thumb gently rubbed across the bottom of her eyes, wiping the tears away. "Then embrace her philosophy, and enjoy the additional time we have been granted."

She nodded, relishing the feel of his warm hand along her cheek. "Just keep reminding me of that dear."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, "I will."

They shared another meaningful look before she pulled away, taking a deep breath noticing that the sky was no longer misty black, but the sun had begun to rise. "We need to get going, Minerva is an early riser."

Harold nodded, grabbing the morning edition of the Daily Prophet off the table before joining her in front of the floo. He watched Helena vanish in a haze of green flames, and as he threw his powder in the grate he prayed for the strength to help both he and Helena through the next several months, and enable their tenacious friend to finally have a moment of peace before the end.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Helena held her breath as Minerva's eyes blinked open. Hermione had stated that Minerva had briefly woken up, spoken about the Hukbar, and that Esmerele had died – thirteen years ago. Hermione had said Minerva had cried slightly, and then fallen back asleep. Worry had been brewing within Helena since Hermione's departure, that perhaps Minerva wouldn't have the will to rejoin the land of the living. And as emerald irises narrowed in focus, Helena felt a measure of relief.

"Morning." Helena said, "How do you feel?"

"Sore." Minerva grumbled, "With muddy thoughts." She said, placing the palm of her left hand to her temple.

"It's going to take some time, Minerva." Helena's healer persona in conjunction with her own worry beginning to seep through, "Five memories through the Hukbar ceremony, Merlin your merely fortunate to have survived the stress to your mind and body, let alone…"

"Not today…" Minerva's low voice cutting through Helena's onset of a tirade and began to shift.

"Sorry, old habits." Helena placed her hand upon Minerva's arm. "Where are you going? You aren't up to…"

"Walking across the scant space to use the restroom and take a warm shower to loosen the ache from my muscles?" Minerva inquired brow arched, as she met Helena's stern gaze. "Whether you believe me or not, I am alright Helena."

Helena felt a frown curl across her lips, "You may think you are, dear. But the Hukbar…"

"Brought up some disturbing memories," She said as she sat up, swinging her legs off the bed, the sheet falling as she stood…and stopped. Realizing for the first time that all of her clothing, except her lace underwear was gone. At once she reached back and snatched the sheet…hand already rising…

"No magic!" Helena snapped, stopping Minerva's spell.

With a huff, Minerva swung the sheet around her body, "Where are my bloody clothes!"

"Elgin has long since discarded what remained of your robes." Helena retorted, "And I ensured you had adequate covering." She stated, mildly surprised that her dear friend remained incredibly reserved about her body, especially after all that had transpired throughout her life; from her extensive injuries during the war with Grindlewald to her baring children, and yet, unless fully clothed…she was anything, but comfortable.

"And you didn't think it worthwhile to transfigure or…" Minerva stopped, and merely shook her head. "Never mind." She muttered, knowing that propriety would never have entered Helena's mind. She was a healer. Minerva was covered by a sheet, blanket, etc. No one would have seen her, just Helena…and then more images flashed through Minerva's mind. Images of Hermione, the scent of almond blanketing the air, the feel of a warm embrace…

She opened the door to the loo, and paused. "How long have you been here?" She asked, voice still coarse from her screams last night.

"I…" Helena began to pull out her wand.

"I didn't ask for a diagnosis, Helena." She said, "My memory is intact, despite the large incongruity denoting the time sequences relating to my memories. The problem is," Her voice caught for a moment, "That I remember Esmerele as if she had been here yesterday morning, that we had spoken over breakfast and also that she died thirteen years ago. That is something, I am going to have to live with and…readjust to. However, what I cannot entirely remember is how long _you _have been here?"

"I arrived last night."

Minerva frowned, "I have no recollection…"

"You wouldn't." She reassured her friend, "Elgin came to get me. I stayed for just over 3 hours, conducted some initial tests while Hermione got a few hours sleep and then came to relieve me. She was here for four hours, left just after sunrise upon Harold's and my return. Hermione stated you woke up around 5."

"Very well." She said, turning into the bathroom, leaving a dumbfounded and exceptionally worried Helena in her sitting room staring at the now closed door that separated the women, physically and apparently emotionally.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxoxoxo

Minerva methodically stepped over, fingers rotating the brass handles, the water streaming from the pipes and crashing against the floor tiles. She stepped over to the mirror as the water warmed, eyes washing over her face.

The familiar green eyes greeting her, laced with fresh pain. She gently reached up, touched the area where the large stone had struck her yesterday…and found it still a bit tender, but even the swelling was gone. Her eyes swept to her shoulder, the marks gone…her hands and arms healed after the memory of the Hukbar, even the scar upon her legs had returned to it's previous state. "Only my memories." She murmured, slipping off the last of her clothes.

Initially the warmth felt good upon her muscles, and then her mind wandered…to recent and not so recent memories. She remembered bits of last night, waking up and the sheer disorientation. The mental overload. Her world slipping away as reality and memories merged, as her inability to create and maintain mental barriers crumbled. Then the images of Esmerele, her senseless and preventable death had flooded her mind. And in her moment of collapse, she had spoken words of guilt that she could no longer bear…words she had never meant to utter aloud, and if so, only to her dearest of friends – Helena.

But it had not been Helena, nor her warm embrace that had eased Minerva's burden last night. It had been someone who she knew far less, and who knew her incredibly less…and yet, she had felt comfortable. No, she thought, not comfortable. That was a term she would use to describe herself around Helena and Harold or Rory...

The thought of Rory…brought back a memory of him twirling her daughter in the air…

"Esmerele." She breathed, memories overtaking her as she sunk to the floor. The water running over her quietly sobbing form, curled up in the corner of the shower.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxxoxoxoxxooxoxxox

Harold's eyes remained riveted to the paper, fingers and knuckles turning white at the conversation between Percival and Minerva.

"As I said, Percival, I haven't had time to review the article." Minerva kindly stated.

"I needed it back by today to submit it to print." His stance forlorn, jaw clenched.

Minerva felt her heartstrings pull, she had planned on being able to read through his article this morning as she had not been able to fit it in yesterday. "I…" Minerva didn't want to disappoint her son, but the truth of the matter was it was taking everything within her willpower to see them today. She knew she wouldn't be up to reading a lengthy article and providing feedback for another day, perhaps two. "Won't be able to have it done before this evening."

"Would you mind just reading it now?" He asked, handing her the thick rolls of parchment.

Minerva stretched out her hand, and Harold could take no more. "I'll read it, Percival." He said standing up, folding the paper as he walked. "Minerva, I believe Tessa has just arrived." He stated, stepping between them.

"I…" Percival met Harold's steely gaze, "Don't know if you are familiar with the dynamics and mother is…"

His voice dropped as Minerva whisked down the stairs, "That's the point of the article, is it not? To educate us lay people." He snatched the parchment from the tall man's hands, wishing Minerva had told them of her ordeal last night. Or at least stated she was not feeling well today. "So let me see if I feel educated."

"That's not what I…" Percival began.

Harold reigned in his frustrations at Percival, meeting his green eyes. "I know, Percival. But, please remember that your mother's time is not always as free as everyone perceives it to be."

"She said she would be remaining at the castle last eve, and that she would have time to review…"

"Yes, and this _is_ Hogwarts. Things have a nature of coming up."

"Did something happen last night?" Tessa asked gliding up to the two men, eyes gravitating over to Helena and Audrey. "Mother seems a bit withdrawn today."

Harold frowned, "Withdrawn?"

Percival matched his look, "She seemed fine, perhaps a bit tired."

"Hmmm." Tessa stepped around them, knowing from Percival's answer that he knew nothing. And if Harold did know something, he would not be the one to divulge what was going on with her mother. "Excuse me."

"Are the children…" Percival began to ask, but the squeal of delight coming from downstairs stopped his question.

"They and Malcolm are downstairs, with mother." She replied before taking the handful of steps over to Audrey and Helena. "What happened to mom last night?" She asked Helena without preamble.

Helena could feel the eyes of the small room descend upon her. "Last night?"

"Or this morning. Either way, Aunt Helena. She's…subdued, even for her. Her posture is stiff, an uncanny pause before she speaks and I have not seen a sadness as heartbreaking within her eyes since my sister died. What happened?"

Minerva met Helena's gaze for one striking moment as her long fingers wrapped around the top of the banister as she balanced, her granddaughter in one arm against her hip. "I went out last night."

All head's snapped to Minerva. "Where did you…?"

"And it's none of your concern." She clipped, stepping into her living room. "Is it Katherine?"

Her granddaughter shook her tiny head at her grandmother's antics. "Nos." She giggled as she was set upon the floor.

"You're our mother!" Percival cried out, "Of course we have a right to know what vexes…"

"And whether you have placed yourself in danger." Tessa chimed in.

Minerva straightened up, meeting her children's gaze. Stilling their words. "I went to see the centaurs last evening regarding some pressing Hogwarts' business, and did not arrive back until quite late. Now," Her voice softened as she scooped Katherine back into her arms, "I believe we are only missing a few people…" Katherine squealed at Minerva twirling her around in a circle.

"My turn Nana." Callum said. "You promised."

"So I did." Minerva replied as she waved her hand…Katherine giggling as her brother floated into the air, next to her…

"Jordon, Matthew." Malcolm smiled at the familiar faces of Helena and Harold's daughter and son-in-law, "And how are…"

Two little heads popped around their parents legs and ran out at once seeing their grandmother playing with two of their friends. "Nana…let us play!" The small blond haired boy asked jumping up, fingers trying to catch Callum.

Minerva chuckled at her 'other' grandchildren. "One moment." She slowly let Katherine and Callum down.

"But…we weren't done!" Cal cried out, the adults in the room laughing at his pouting face.

"Now." Minerva kneeled down, "I believe hugs are in order."

Four pairs of arms launched and curled around Minerva's chest…

Another streak of a child bolted across the rooms, wearing none other than Gryffindor colors. "Nana!" Samantha stated as Pomona and Filius stepped into Minerva's room, having collected and dropped off the young woman.

Samantha pulled back from Minerva and with a big smile flew into her grandfather's waiting embrace.

"Hello pumpkin." He rumbled, giving her a peck on the check.

She reached over grabbing Helena by the neck, "Missed you both."

And at seeing her brother and sister, along with Callum and Katherine floating up into the air…she wiggled down… "Nana…" She ran over, tugging at Minerva's robes, "How do you do that?" She asked in awe, "Without a wand?"

The answer was lost as a slender man with short cropped hair, paused at the top of the steps.

"Rory!" Percival and Tessa immediately said, light shining from their eyes at seeing their Uncle.

Rory paused at the top of the steps, smile lighting his face at the heartwarming scene before him. There, in the middle of the what he knew was the ever expanding room, was for all intents and purposes, his sister, Minerva…Allison and Douglas Maeur along with Tessa's children floating seven feet above the floor as young Samantha Maeur gazed up expectantly to Minerva as she asked questions, thirsting for knowledge.

Around the outer rim of the room was what now encompassed the _family_. Tessa was standing next to Audrey, and Helena…who had gravitated next to her husband, Harold who was standing by Percival. Jordan and Matthew were conversing with Pomona and Filius…the center, holding it together was Minerva.

"Hello, love." Rory said, stepping into the room and striding up next to Minerva and swept Samantha up into his arms, and twirled Minerva around…

Harold immediately pulling his wand out to catch the children.

"That was not funny." Minerva stated, body tipped back in a low dip of a dance move.

Rory's laugh died on his lips at the shadowy eyes staring back at him, "You went through with it."

He was the only person who had known what she was going to attempt last night. "Yes." She stated as they stood back up.

"Wow!" Samantha said, "Do that again!"

Rory turned his head to Samantha, "If you think that is wonderful, perhaps at some point Nana and I will dance for you." He finished with a wink before turning back to Minerva, her emotions buried behind her stoic face…but he knew it was a pretense. The pain was too close in her eyes, "I'm sorry, love." He whispered into her ear so as not to be heard by the others as he wrapped her in a warm hug. "I'm so sorry."

Minerva allowed herself a moment to draw strength from his embrace, before stepping back. Smiling forced upon her lips, "I still don't think you'll draw me onto the dance floor."

"I don't know…" He stated conspiratorially, "The day is young."

xoxoxoxxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxox

Minerva lifted her gaze up, eyes narrowing behind her gold frames. "I'll be right back, dear." She absently stated to her grandson as she stood and headed towards the brass banister.

Rory watched, concern upon his chiseled features as the joy fell from Minerva's face as her private life was interrupted by work, her walls instantly coming back up.

Immediately Filius extricated himself from his conversation with Harold, seeing the same thing as Rory. "I'll go Minerva." A tender smile upon his face.

Minerva paused, "I shall just be a moment." She said, "I'll let you speak with Marx shortly, instead."

Filius was about to ask what in Merlin she was referring to, but she was already gliding down the steps, disappearing from view.

Minerva stepped off the staircase as the door to her office opened and Hermione Granger walked through. Her eyes looked tired, face mildly drawn…a long gash upon her cheek, she was dressed in non-traditional wizard clothing, opting for a long-sleeved muggle cobalt blue sweater and jeans. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

Hermione had been surprised when the familiar green door had appeared, knowing that she would be getting off at Minerva's office. What she had not anticipated was seeing Minerva downstairs, in her office. "How are you feeling?" She asked, eyes sweeping over the woman, surprised to see an insurmountable wall and stoic face greeting her eyes.

A wave of children's laughter swept from her living room, "A bit tired." She stated, honestly. "The family has been here for a few hours."

Hermione couldn't help her gaze as it gravitated upwards, towards the stray sounds hoping to catch a glimpse of who she considered _family_. "Then Helena is still here?" She inquired, pulling her brown eyes back down to meet green ones.

"Yes." Minerva replied, "She is here, as is Harold."

Hermione allowed her gaze to drift upwards one last time, and then cleared her throat. "I'll come back in a few hours."

Instantly, Minerva understood. Helena had asked Hermione to come back, to relieve her and Minerva sighed, reaching out. "I'm alright, Hermione. No ill effects."

Hermione waited a heartbeat, before shaking her head, "No, you are not, alright as you say. Perhaps to most, that would have worked, I daresay, even your children or I before this past few weeks, but…" Her lips pursed, "Not now. The light is gone from your eyes, the slight slump to your shoulders, the way you hold yourself." She paused, voice becoming soft. "Even the wall you have hidden behind, all of which indicates you are anything, but alright, Minerva."

"Yes, well…" Her hand dropping from Hermione's arm, "I haven't time for much else. Especially healers under hands and feet."

"We're just concerned." Hermione rebuked. "To see Esmerele…"

Minerva closed her eyes at the mention of her daughter's name, "Enough, Hermione." She stated shakily, muscle rippling along her jaw as she forced her emotions to remain at bay. "She died thirteen years ago…"

"And yet, to you, it was like yesterday." Hermione's soft voice and kind eyes were shredding through Minerva's wall like it was paper.

Minerva felt her eyes drop away, no longer able to meet the young witch's gaze. "Please." She whispered, heartache lacing her words. "Let it rest."

Hermione felt tears in her eyes at Minerva's quiet plea. "You can't ignore that it happened. Nor that you have friends who want to help you through it."

"He'lo Hermione." Rory stated from above, leaning on the brass balcony, interrupting the soft conversation.

Hermione smiled up at the older man, "Hello Rory."

Minerva fought off a wave of panic, knowing that Rory would not push. But the last thing she wanted this evening was for Hermione to be questioned by the family, especially if they knew she had gone with her last night. She trusted Hermione, but…she couldn't take the chance. And as much as she didn't want Hermione and Helena under hand and foot, she would have to deal with it for a bit longer. "Perhaps a game of chess about seven."

Hermione nodded, "Will you please let Helena know?"

Minerva heard Helena's distinct gait draw up next to Rory, "I believe she already does."

Hermione glanced up as Helena smiled, "Good afternoon, Hermione."

"And to you Helena." Hermione replied.

"Has our esteemed friend invited you up or…" She felt a jab to her ribs, "Ow." She turned to Rory, brow raised. "That was uncalled for."

"So was that." He quietly remarked under his breath. "Good to see you, dear." He stood, fingers around Helena's arm causing her to come with him.

"Later Hermione." Helena called as she walked backwards with Rory.

"Good-bye." Hermione replied, dropping her hand from its friendly wave. "Chess is fine, or I can bring my marking." She stated. "I'm just worried about you being alone right now."

"As everyone has stoutly reminded me today, it is my birthday." She said, "So, perhaps a game of chess as I have not played in years."

Hermione felt a small smile play across her face, "Chess it is, then."

Minerva gave her a nod before turning away, feeling a bit lighter as she crossed the room…looking forward to this evening's match, the door closing behind Hermione. She walked up the steps barely noticing her hip, but did feel the Gargoyle jump again as she reached the top. "Filius." Her voice clipped, breaking his conversation with Percival. "Marx is coming up, I believe this one is your turn."

"Of course, Minerva." He pleasantly replied, excusing himself from her son and ambled down the steps to greet the soon to be arrival.

"Nana!" Cal jumped up, pointing to his recently built house of cards that towered as tall as him. "Look!"

Minerva took a step closer, "Fantastic." She said eyes peering into his blue ones…that twinkled so much like Albus'. As she heard Filius give a quick intake of breath, and both men quickly exit from her office…it seemed a handful of Slytherins had been a bit overzealous and charmed all of the furniture within the dormitory to invert and remain affixed to the ceiling.

xooxoxoxxooxoxoxoxoxoxooxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxox

Helena turned to Rory, worry lacing her features. She didn't _want_ to leave Minerva alone, but…she was out of valid reasons to remain, unless she told Rory…who had been waiting patiently for the last of Minerva's guests to leave to speak with her. "I shall see you tomorrow at St. Mungos."

Minerva merely nodded, "I believe eleven was our meeting."

"See you then." She replied, embracing Minerva. "If you need anything…"

Minerva stepped back, smiling. "I shall let you know." She turned to Harold, who leaned in giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek as he wrapped his arm loosely around her.

"Happy Birthday, love." He said, light shining through his blue eyes.

"Good to see you, as always." She said, "And do come over soon, I need someone to share the port with."

Harold and Helena chuckled as they both bowed their heads before throwing some powder into the grate, and stating Harrison's Hovel they were gone in a brilliant flash of green.

Minerva let out the breath she had been holding as did Rory. "Long day, love?"

Wandlessly she withdrew the pins from her hair, black waves falling down. "Quite."

"What time is Hermione coming back?" He asked steering her to the couch, and sitting beside her.

"How do…" She sighed, letting her head fall back onto the cushion. "Seven." She turned her head, eyes straining to see the clock. Hermione would be there in less than fifteen minutes.

He waited several seconds, before interrupting Minerva's silent thoughts. "Do you want me to come back?"

"No, Rory." She cleared her throat, pulling her head up and with a wave…her hair fell into a braid. "Elgin brought me a note this afternoon that the Centaurs have accepted my hospitality. I need you to give Tenian and whoever else wishes a tour of the southern part of the property."

"Of course." He replied, as he took her hand within his own. "I'm here if you wish to talk about it."

"I know Rory." She said, squeezing his fingers. "It's just too fresh for all the details."

"You have definitely given Helena a scare and from the look upon her face,

Hermione too."

"Hermione witnessed the Hukbar, and Helena saw me after." She replied tiredly.

"Esmerele was one of the memories." He whispered. They had discussed what memories she would undoubtedly need to show the centaurs to prove the truth behind her words, and each time…Esmerele's came up in discussion, neither had foreseen a way to avoid it. That memory alone irrevocably proved that she was not assisting the wizard.

"Yes." She whispered, "As was Wilhemenia's, my letter from Harry, and two of my duels with Johannes."

"Not the one in Madrid." He winced, remembering how she had looked upon her return.

"Despite the pain and the choice, it still remains quite satisfying to see his eyes bulge from his head as my spell struck his shoulder."

"I can see why both women would be concerned, Minerva." He ran his hand up her cheek. "To witness those memories had to be horrifying and I know that your return from various locations…you have been, shall we say less than presentable."

"As have you, love." She replied, a quaint smile barely lining her eyes.

Rory pulled back, hand falling to his lap. "Are you alright?" He asked, recalling the day she had arrived two days after Esmerele's funeral…hair unkempt…robes torn, glasses bent…haggard…and broken. She had remained at the north part of the property for the summer, only leaving to answer Order business or assist her children.

Numerous owls had arrived throughout the summer, begging and pleading for her return to Hogwarts. Asking for her assistance…wanting her to become the Headmistress…

He had watched as she ignored them all.

Every letter…every request…

Except one.

A letter from one of her students, Hermione Granger. To this day, he still didn't know what was contained within the letter, but it had started the beginnings of a change within her…and she had attended Bill and Fleur's wedding after she had initially refused the invitation.

"Well enough, Rory." She patted his leg, the grind of the gargoyle touching her ears.

"She's here?" He asked, her eyes confirming her answer. "Then I shall take my leave, as I will be having guests tomorrow."

"Thank you, Rory." She said squeezing his hand as he stood.

"No, love." He said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "Thank you, for being…you." He rumbled, "And happy birthday." He pulled a small package from the lip of his kilt handing it to her.

"Rory…" She said about to chastise him for getting her a gift.

He shook his head, "Don't. I found this, and…" He nodded to the box, "I wanted you to have it."

She paused as the door to her study opened, Hermione stepping in. To see Rory leaning over, a small box in Minerva's hand… "Ohh…Hello."

Rory looked over his shoulder, "Good evening, Hermione."

Minerva tipped her head to the side, "Hermione."

"Minerva, Rory." She said, feeling mildly awkward for the second time that day.

"Please, come in." Minerva said, "Elgin is bringing up some tea and biscuits."

"I'm sure a few ginger newts too." Rory chuckled, "What do you see in those things, anyway? They are a bit dry."

"Actually, they're good with a spot of tea." Hermione interjected.

"And you find too much chocolate a bad thing too, I presume." He chuckled.

"Not bad, but you can overdose on chocolate." Hermione stated, sitting down.

"As Albus used to say, blasphemy." His comment drawing a nod from the portrait. "You have poisoned her with your ill notions, Minerva. Overdose on chocolate." He shook his head, "Nonsense."

Elgin chose that time to pop into her rooms. "You'se tray." He said, setting it down on the table. "And," He snapped his hand, an old velvet case with worn corners along with a tattered board appeared into the middle of the table. "Chess set." He turned to Minerva, "If you'se be needing anything else, just asks."

"Thank you Elgin." Minerva stated.

Elgin gave Rory a brief nod before apparating away.

Rory cast his eyes to the box within her hands. "Now, go ahead."

Minerva met his grey eyes before returning them to the item within her hands. Slowly, she opened it…heart hammering in her chest as her eyes landed upon the aged ring with emerald stone. Her mother's ring. "Where ever did you find this?" She asked shocked.

"Never mind, dear. It is where it belongs." He whispered, kissing her cheek again. "Enjoy your game." He said, backing away. "And beware, Hermione, she uses her knights on the chessboard as deftly as she uses her wand within a duel."

"I'll keep that in mind." She replied.

"Good evening." He said and swept toward the fireplace, and out of nowhere…green flames jumped into the grate without appearing to throw in any floo powder and then he and the flames were gone leaving the two witches alone.

Hermione reached into the edge of her sweater, withdrawing a small box. She then pulled her wand out, with a two deft flicks the package returned to its original state with navy paper and silver ribbon wrapped around it. "Happy birthday, Minerva." She stated, handing Minerva the package over the table.

"Hermione…" Minerva grasped the parcel, "Thank you. But know that you didn't have to."

"Nor did you have to, a few weeks ago for my birthday." She replied, her heart warming at Minerva's gentle smile. "Please, go ahead."

Minerva carefully untied the ribbon, the paper falling away from the box, her fingers slowly pulling at the edge and then removing the lid. A silver piece of tissue fluttered, as Minerva set the top beside her…eyes narrowing at the emerald fabric seeping through. Tentatively, she reached forward, pulling the tissue away…

To see a set of her robes starring back at her.

"Hope you don't mind." Hermione stated, a bit worried from the quiet countenance that had taken over Minerva's face. "I know it seems a bit, odd." She continued on, "It's just…in the last two months; I have seen three sets of your robes destroyed. And…"

Minerva raised her face, tears in her eyes. "Thank you." She stated, simply. "This was very thoughtful."

"I never realized how many layers you wore." Hermione stated as Minerva banished the box to her rooms.

Minerva raised her brow, leaning forward to pour herself a cup of tea. "Excuse me?"

"Your robes…" Hermione nodded to Minerva's attire, "I never realized how detailed they were."

Minerva waved her hand, the chess board snapping open. "I shall have to speak with Meredith."

"Actually, Melaine. Meredith was out when I purchased those." Hermione replied. "But, four layers, Minerva. Don't you get hot?"

Minerva smiled at Hermione, "No, they are specifically designed and the material breaths."

"Melaine stated that the only reason she was able to fill the order was that you had placed one this past Monday and the material for your robes had arrived last evening. She said your inner robes were composed of three different silks…" Hermione placed her pieces upon the board. "And that depending on the season, the weight of the material changes along with the stitching."

"Yes…" Minerva cleared her throat, "There are a few indulgences that I have allowed myself over the years. One, happens to be my clothing."

Hermione had been startled at the cost for Minerva's set of robes, they were three times the cost of her own. And Melaine had only charged her the shop's cost. "They've always seemed nice, and I've never seen another green as rich as your robes…but what makes them so…expensive." She said, moving her pawn two squares.

"Albus used to wonder the same thing." Minerva replied, hand hovering for a moment over the board. "Then…" She moved her own pawn, squaring off with Hermione. "I asked Meredith to make him a set of robes."

"And?" She moved another pawn.

"He understood." Minerva replied mysteriously.

"That's all?"

Minerva moved a pawn too. "There was a bit more, but yes. That's all."

"There's more to it." Hermione said, not believing Minerva's comment. "A lot more."

Minerva pulled a ginger newt from the tray, "Some things Hermione, are better left for the experience."

They slipped into silence as they traded moves back and forth, Hermione focusing on the game…Minerva, her thoughts returning to the jumble of her memories.

An hour passed, the moves coming much slower…

Minerva had devastated Hermione the past four moves, taking her bishop and rook…and yet…as Hermione glanced up, she could tell Minerva's mind was elsewhere. "Want to talk about it?"

Immediately, Minerva's eyes snapped to Hermione, clarity suddenly within her emerald orbs. "I believe it's still your turn."

Hermione nodded, "It is. But that isn't what I was referring to."

Minerva fingered the rim of her cup, eyes momentarily snapping out of focus. "I am aware Hermione." Her voice becoming distant. "But, I am not ready."

"Can you at least tell me why you didn't inform me of what you were planning?"

She asked, sliding her queen up the board.

"And how would you have felt if you had known?" Minerva asked, cornering Hermione's knight.

"I…" Hermione took a deep breath, fingers gracing the top of her knight. "I would have tried to talk you into another way."

"And then?"

"Reasoned with you on how to have a similar effect without the trauma." She said, the game momentarily forgotten. "You could have died last night."

"I had partaken in the Hukbar previously, so I knew my odds of surviving the ceremony were high. I was, however, unsure how we would be received by the centaurs."

"And you didn't think that you should have shared that with me?"

Minerva could feel the anger emanating off of Hermione. "I'm not accustomed to divulging business."

"Or anything for that matter." Hermione muttered, "But…" She forced the anger from her voice. "I can't work with you and help you if I don't know what you are planning."

Minerva met the younger witch's gaze, "I will try and share more with you, but…there are times that I will not. Last night, for instance."

"Will you ever trust me?" Hermione asked, the candles flickering along the wall.

Minerva peeled her glasses from her face, striking green eyes no longer hidden behind her lens as she pierced Hermione's brown eyes with her own. "How can you ask that, Hermione? After everything you have seen or heard?" Minerva asked voice raw. "It isn't about trust, Hermione." She stood, eyes blurring from the tears.

"Then why wouldn't you tell me?" Hermione asked, standing up…drifting around the sofa, Minerva already silhouetted next to the window.

"I think it's time you leave." Minerva's soft voice reverberating around the room.

"Minerva…I didn't mean." She drew closer, but Minerva shrank away almost disappearing in the shadows.

"Pity." Minerva's quiet voice sending chills down Hermione's spine. "I'll have none of it." She cleared her throat. "Good night, Hermione." She turned away from the window, half way to the brass staircase when a hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her around.

"I have never, nor will I ever pity you." Hermione said stepping up next to the slightly taller woman. Their brown and emerald eyes meeting, "Ever, Minerva." She whispered, "Not even after last night."

Minerva let out a shuddering breath, a tear slipping off her lashes. "I can't…" She flexed her jaw, "Stand to see pity in someone's eyes when they learn a meter of my life."

"Anger at not being told yesterday. Heartache for the loss of your daughter. Awe at your dueling skills. Dozens of questions I want answered, but not for one instance, pity."

"Those I can accept and understand…but not pity. Life is too short for such nonsense." Her fatigue evident in her voice, "There are times, Hermione that I need to make a decision that can have an ill-effect on myself or other's that I care about, but the decision needs to be made. And the last thing I want or need is pity regarding the outcomes of those decisions. At times those decisions could result in physical harm, and in recent years I tend to place myself in harm's way…" She gently pulled her arm away from Hermione's grasp. "As you saw last night, physical wounds only have a temporary effect upon me."

"That is why you have to come back to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "Will a regular healer still be able to help you? How were you healed? I have never seen anything like that. Is there a limit to how badly you can be injured?"

Minerva stepped back, "I'm tired, Hermione." She turned away, "I thank you _very_ much for the new set of robes. I believe I'll be able to put them to good use. And I also thank you for the game. Perhaps, we can finish it one evening over the next week." She had already reached the brass staircase, Hermione debating on whether to follow when Minerva stopped. "To answer, I suppose the simplest explanation would be that I was a participant to a spell that had been cast years ago, and the effect has been rippling through my life for well over a decade. The first time I realized there was any effect between that spell, my injuries and Hogwarts was the night after Esmerele's death. I had shattered my family wards to apparate her to St. Mungos…" She paused, remembering the feeling of her and Hogwarts' magic ripping through her…scorching her hands, up her arms…burning her and the very air she breathed…the wards shattering…and then she had apparated to St. Mungos…breaking their enchantments to arrive in Helena's office. "The magic flash burnt my lungs, heart…and arms and hands. I was dying and had asked Harold and Helena to take me back to Hogwarts, to be with Albus or so I thought. I had been drawn back here, and upon arriving…I was taken up into the castle and the outcome was similar to what you saw last night." Her voice became soft, "The pain was unbearable and I wanted nothing more than to die."

"But you didn't." Hermione quietly stated.

"No." Minerva said starring down at the young woman, chestnut hair glowing softly in the candlelight. "I didn't." _Though, there are many days that I wish I had,_ she finished silently.

Hermione could see the shadows play across her face, and she found herself asking a question she didn't want to know the answer to…but she already did. "But afterwards, you wished you had."

Minerva didn't answer, she merely met the other woman's brown eyes a tender look passing across her face as she began ascending the steps, her voice barely grazing Hermione's ears. "Good night, Hermione."

"Minerva," Hermione strode forward worry lacing her features as Minerva paused at the top of the steps.

"I'll see you in the morning, Hermione." Her Scottish lilt gracing Hermione's ears.

Hermione starred at Minerva's face for a long moment and finally nodded… "First thing."

Minerva nodded, "Good night." She said as she strode through the door and into her living room.

Hermione listened for a minute, heard the opening and closing of a door… "Elgin." She called, and at once, he appeared.

"You'se called Professor's Granger?" He blinked up at her.

"Please have Milksy wake me when Minerva awakens tomorrow."

His face blanched, "I's cannot…"

"Just tomorrow," Hermione stated, "I want to arrange my morning so I can have a private breakfast with her."

"You'se still worried." His face portraying his thoughts, "I's see to it."

"Thank you." She said turning away, but Albus' portrait cleared his throat causing Hermione to turn and look up. "Professor."

"She typically gets up just before five." Albus stated, concern lacing his features.

"I…" She nodded, "Thank you." She turned away…

"And Hermione," Albus' voice causing her to pause, "You'll need to move your bishop to E3 to save your queen."

Her eyes immediately leapt to the chess game, and then turned back to him. "How much longer will that save me?"

"Depends on respective courses, but you still could take the game."

She nodded, "Thank you." And walked to the door, and with a wave of her wand…the candles immediately dimmed and went out as she stepped into the stairway.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxo

_A/N: Thank you so very much for your lovely remarks last chapter. To the shippers out there, hopefully this took a small bit of the edge off ;) We will rejoin our characters on the following day ~ October 5__th__. _


	21. Chapter 20 October 5th 2009

**Chapter 20 ~ October 5****th****, 2009 (Monday)**

Ron blearily rubbed his eyes as he stumbled forward, wand out…but stopped at seeing Hermione stepping into the hallway.

"What are you doing…?" He asked, sleep lacing his words as he lowered his arm and wand as a row of candles jumped to life. "It's gotta be close to one in the morning."

"Sorry." She said, "I…" Her eyes darted to their children's room. "Just had to see them."

"Everything alright?" He asked running a hand through his red mop of hair, another yawn pulling at his jaw.

Hermione fought off a wave of heartache, "Yeah." She murmured, "Just a bad dream." She tilted her head towards the door, "Mind?"

"No…" His hand dropping down, "But lock the door, I've gotta get up in a few hours."

Hermione snagged the hem of his shirt, causing him to stop. "Sorry I woke you."

He nodded, "No worries. Just, get some rest, will ya? The kids are fine, won't let anything happen to them."

She let his shirt go, and it fell to his side. "I know. Just had to see them."

"Alright. I gotta go…" He pointed back to his room.

"Night." She said as he gave a nod and disappeared down the hall. She waited a split second, and then turned the handle…and stepped inside her children's room. They were both sound asleep…and looked like the angels she wished they often times were.

Minutes passed into hours and she remained fixed along the door frame, just watching them sleep. Relishing in the sound of their breathing, the innocence of their faces…and she found she couldn't imagine losing one of them.

The heartache it would cause…

She blinked back the tears from her eyes…

She had always imagined having children, not seven as Molly had done, perhaps one more…or two…but as she stood there, she didn't know if she could let herself go enough to have another child. Even though nothing had happened to her children, but the sheer knowledge that they were not truly safe…

If the most powerful family in the world had lost two of their children, how in Merlin's name was she going to keep her children safe? How could she think of remarrying…having more children? What if something happened…?

Perhaps that is why Minerva never remarried after Albus' death? She wouldn't allow someone else to get close to her…

_And why would she? _Hermione thought as Hugo snuggled closer to his stuffed phoenix, and she carefully sat next to her son…gently running her hand through his red hair. _She had lost so much, besides how do you remarry after having been married to Albus Dumbledore? And who could live up to that image?_

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Minerva slowly stood, her legs unsteady beneath her as she shakily wrapped her hand around the oak frame of her bed. Wearily, she summoned her robe, the ivory cotton fabric fluttering through the air and into her right hand.

Her quadriceps muscles still burned…as did her confounded hip. Gritting her teeth, she forced her legs to operate and step into the bathroom where she laid her robe onto the sink. With a wave, she turned on the faucets, the water already pouring down…

She stepped into the shower as she banished her gown, relishing the feeling of the warm water soothing her tired muscles.

Unlike yesterday, she didn't dawdle…her mind forcing herself to remain focused and not on the ache within her breast. She knew Elgin would be arriving momentarily with the morning's report, and she needed to be at breakfast this morning. She did not need Helena or Hermione to be any more concerned than they already were.

She wrapped the towel around her hair, slipping her robe on, tying it around her waist as she stepped out into her room. She paused momentarily as she glanced to her window, the first rays of daybreak glistening on the horizon. The beginnings of a new day, rays of hope sprinkling across the earth…

Hope…

The notion brought forth strength and burden… Much like the dichotomy that lived within her. Sighing, she snatched her walking stick up into her right hand and her glasses into her left.

She needed to start her day. With the clicking of her walking stick and soft padding of her bare feet, she strode into her living room…and drew to an abrupt stop as her eyes laid upon the woman sitting on the sofa…still wearing the cobalt sweater and jeans from last night. Fatigue laced the other woman's face, dark circles beneath her eyes.

Before Hermione had even glanced up, the smell of lavender wafting through the air tickled her senses. "Good morning." Hermione said glancing up from a copy of the Daily Prophet, eyes landing on Minerva as her breath caught in her lungs. Minerva wasn't dressed in her usual tailored robes, but a simple…low cutting bathrobe. Minerva's hair was wrapped atop her head in a towel, a few strands of ebony hair carefree and falling against her shoulders as water droplets slipped down her neck…the dampness of her body hugging the robe to her skin, glasses loosely resting in the fingers of her left hand as she leaned heavily on her walking stick in her other. "Hope you don't mind." She said trying to clear her mind of the images, eyes darting to the Prophet and then back to her, "Elgin said that you wouldn't mind if I read this."

Minerva tried not to feel uneasy, but she was not prepared to see Hermione, fact of the matter was that she wasn't prepared to see anyone in her rooms this morning. She wasn't ready for it. "I…have you slept at all?" She asked, pushing aside her unease and focusing on Hermione's haggard appearance.

"Mistress." Elgin popped into her rooms, hand with parchment outstretched. "Professor Hermione asked to eats breakfast withs you'se this morning."

Minerva reached out, taking the parchment… "I had deduced as much." She stated glancing over to Hermione, "I believe some Danish, fruit, a pot of coffee and one of tea will be sufficient."

Hermione nodded that what Minerva asked to be served would be ample, and she found her eyes gravitating to the elder woman…even in a simple robe, she presented an aura of elegance.

"It's be here momentarily." Elgin stated and popped out of the rooms.

"No." Hermione stated, answering Minerva's question and elaborating farther. "I went to visit Rose and Hugo this morning."

Minerva frowned as she snapped her glasses open. "Everything alright?" She asked, concern lacing her face.

Hermione leaned back, folding the paper in half. Watching as the elder witch easily slipped on her glasses, her eyes pausing to stare across the way, parchment idly falling open in her hand. "How often did you visit your other children after Callum's death and then Esmerele's?"

Minerva could feel the subtle twitch in her hand, "After Callum died, Albus or I and if possible both of us used to visit them every evening, whether they were aware or not. Whereas following Esmerele's death, I used other means to verify their safety daily. I, myself, was not up to traveling daily." Minerva finished and dropped her eyes to the parchment, scanning the morning report. _Damn!_ She thought, as she read the latest update on Slytherin's common room.

Hermione sat up a bit farther as a frown began crossing Minerva's face as she scanned the parchment in her hand, "What's wrong?"

Minerva glanced up, she had momentarily forgotten about Hermione, her mind on the one House that caused her the greatest amount of headaches. "Apparently I will be visiting the Slytherin's common room this morning." Minerva could feel her magic prickle and knew Elgin would be arriving in less than three seconds. Her eyes involuntarily turning to where he would be. "Elgin." She said as he reappeared.

"Mistress." He replied, setting the tray upon the coffee table. Large eyes blinking up at Minerva.

"I thought Filius reversed the charm." She said as the paper banished from her hand.

Elgin nodded, "He's did and Professor's Marx placed a corresponding charm to keeps the furniture adhered to the floor."

"Very well. Tell the elves that I shall correct the problem and not to clean the area until after classes have started."

He gave her a curt nod before his eyes flashed to Hermione and then he was gone.

Hermione had already poured herself a cup of coffee, stirring s bit of cream into the once black liquid. "How often do you receive reports from Elgin?"

Minerva's brow quirked to Hermione, "There are times, Hermione, I find your deductive reasoning not to my advantage." She turned around, heading into her private rooms. "Daily, and I will return momentarily. Excuse me." She closed the door behind her, separating her from Hermione.

Hermione leaned back taking a sip of her coffee, expecting Minerva to be several minutes before her return…and was surprised to see the handle on the door turn after barely a minute had passed. Minerva striding back through the door sporting her traditional black and emerald robes, hair pulled up in a tight bun, black boots, her walking stick in hand, and gold rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Hermione sat back up, dumbfounded. "Superman would have been hard pressed to change as fast as you did."

"I believe he would be faster," Minerva pulled her robe to her as she sat opposite of Hermione, "But magic does assist in one's expediency."

"You know who Superman is?" She asked disbelievingly.

Minerva poured herself a cup of coffee, chuckling. "Yes. Do you?"

"I just thought…I mean it's a muggle comic book."

"Derived from a wizarding comic series. I don't know who had the larger Hero's collection, Callum or Albus. Though, I'm surprised this is the first you have heard of it. I would have believed Ronald was an avid collector."

Hermione picked up a piece of Danish, "No. Quidditch and chocolate frogs were his passion."

Minerva adjusted herself, leaning back into the cushions, "When I return to the…Manor, I shall bring a few comics for you to read and share with your children."

"Thank you." She said, eyes sweeping over the Headmistress. "How are you this morning?"

Minerva met the other woman's gaze with her own piercing one. "As I said last night, I'm fine. However," She twirled the cup absently within the palm of her hand. "I wonder, how are you doing with what you witnessed?"

Hermione paused mid-bite at the question. Mouth full as she responded, "If you are doing well, then I am too."

Older…younger…green eyes to brown…locked…

"If you're not sleeping…" Minerva began, but Hermione interrupted.

"And you are unwilling to talk about your daughter." Hermione pushed.

Green eyes becoming slits as she gazed across the table, "I lost her, Hermione. I have memories of the thirteen years after her death, and the day she died…it's fresh. The heartache, the overwhelming sense of loss, the way my body burned in pain like never before…Helena's face, Harold's…I could hear Tessa's cries and Percival's weeping..." Her voice practically devoid of emotion as she continued on, "You asked last night if I had wished I had died the day following Esmerele's death. There was a time that the answer was yes, as I did not have the strength to go forward feeling as though my world and its entirety was again being ripped from me. Friends were being killed by Voldemort, Tessa had miscarried two weeks prior…Harold's brother had been killed, Albus had just died leaving a deep wound within my soul that to this day remains seeping, and then Esmerele was killed." Minerva's eyes misted over, "So yes, Hermione. It will take time, as the memories are fresh. But…" She steadied her voice, "They are memories, of a time that has long since passed. I have thousands of new memories, encompassing the complete menagerie of feelings…including joy. And, you must realize that as the days pass; the memories relived by the Hukbar quickly fade back into the timeframe from whence the memories were lived."

"So the farther away from the ceremony…"

"The duller the memories become, as they once were." Minerva topped off her coffee as she picked up a piece of orange. "Now…" She raised the orange slice, "What of the many things you witnessed has kept you from sleeping?" She finished chewing on her orange.

Hermione leaned back, enjoying the feel of the sofa…the fatigue from lack of sleep beginning to pull at her eyes. "I can't imagine how you must have felt losing not just one, but two children. And…if you and Albus lost two of your children…"

"Then how are your children safe?"

Hermione felt the tears in her eyes, "I know that it isn't the same…it's just…"

"A troublesome notion." Minerva said. "I can only tell you that I have seen entire families destroyed, including my immediate family save for Derrick during the war with Grindlewald. And…there is no protection strong enough, no precaution that is assured, only that every day is precious." A large bundle of tied paper magically appeared next to the table, interrupting Minerva and eliciting a sigh from the Headmistress. "My correspondence from yesterday and this morning."

Hermione starred at the bundle that equated to the size of her second and third year essays sitting on her study table. "That's only two days correspondence…"

"Disturbingly so." Minerva said.

"Can any of that be routed through a secretary or another person?" Hermione inquired, still wondering how Minerva sorted through and answered all her mail.

"I have entertained the notion, but as I have information in many fashions…including my mail, it is not something I wish for others to read."

Hermione understood the complexity of the problem, "Perhaps Filius could handle the parent's correspondence?"

"If I continue to be away from Hogwarts, perhaps. But, until then, I would prefer not to burden Filius more than I already am."

Setting her cup down, Hermione edged forward on her seat, sitting on the edge of the cushion. "What did you mean when you asked Johannes if he killed Esmerele because you survived?" Hermione asked without preamble, pushing for more as she continued. "And Johannes stating that you and Albus had intended on becoming immortal…what was he talking about?"

"I…" She mulled the words around in her mouth as she chewed a handful of grapes, "Johannes knows that I survived a spell that should have taken my life...believing the cause was in Albus and I taking the Heart of Hogwarts for ourselves thereby making us immortal."

"But Albus died." Hermione interjected.

"Yes." Minerva replied, "He did."

"Then how can Johannes believe that you and he sought immortality when Albus died?"

Minerva shrugged, "I can only tell you that I nor Albus would ever have taken nor ever did take the Heart of Hogwarts for ourselves. If we wished immortality, we would have crafted a Sorcerer's Stone."

"You know how to…" Hermione's voice becoming soft. "Of course, Dumbledore was friends with the Flammel's, as were you." She frowned as she thought back to the end of her sixth year, when Albus had died…the attack upon Hogwarts. "But, what spell were you struck with? And when? Was it during the attack at Hogwarts? I don't remember seeing you injured."

"It was after, Hermione. I do not know the name of the spell, but for a moment…I could feel the coldness of death seeping through my bones and stealing my very breath. Somehow, I survived, and with everything else going on, the Order was never made aware."

"And that spell that should have killed you…now saves your life." Hermione stated, shaking her head at the irony.

"Yes." Minerva quietly answered, trying not to give Hermione any additional clues or information other than what she had already gained.

A light sparked in Hermione's eyes, "There's more. Your health…me helping…" And as quick as the spark had ignited, was as quickly as the breath left her lungs…tears already stinging against her eyes as she raised them to meet Minerva's. "You've never fully recovered from the curse." Her heart hammering in her chest, "It still affects you."

Minerva sipped her coffee, "As with all things, there is a balance."

"That's why you asked me to help you." Hermione stated, beginning to realize how difficult it truly had been for Minerva to ask for help. It wasn't just her age, but because of a curse she had survived…was still surviving…

"Partially." Minerva replied, "There were other factors, as I stated previously."

"Dear Merlin…Minerva," She reached across the table, grasping the elder witch's hand within her own… "How badly does this curse still affect you?"

Minerva tipped her head enough to stare into Hermione's eyes, without the barrier of her glasses between them. Seconds passed and finally Minerva took an unsettling breath, "Eventually, it will claim my life."

"No." Hermione's voice cracking, "There has to be a way…"

Minerva squeezed her hand, a tender smile upon her lips and within her eyes. "Many moons have come and gone, and I still remain. I have no intention of dying in the near future, Hermione. But know it will happen as there is no cure."

"I refuse to believe in hopelessness." She stated, voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"As do I." She let go of Hermione's hand, "But, the fact remains, that without knowing the curse I was struck with, it makes it rather difficult to counter."

"And Helena has not found, anything…?" She asked, her stomach twisting in knots from what she had been told.

"She monitors my condition quite close." Minerva said, "But, there was no physical evidence and I have no recollection of the actual event to watch through a pensive."

Hermione sat quietly for a brief moment before asking a question with mixed feelings. "Do you know how long…you have?"

Minerva's mouth quirked, "I hope, years."

Hermione nodded…not trusting herself to speak. _Years. _"And Johannes knew of your condition, and he believed you had already died."

"Yes."

"I just…" Hermione set her cup down, "Don't understand why he would believe you were dying if you had become immortal?"

"He was surprised I survived, and after our duel in the Alley. I am sure he is under the perception that my life is far more long-lived than it actually is."

Hermione found her mind back on the simplest of words, _years. Minerva was dying. It was not a hypothetical…as she had stated to Johannes, but a hard core, fact. It would happen…_

"Hermione." Minerva said, standing…realizing that Hermione had tuned her out several seconds ago…

_I hope…years…_ Tears were spilling down her cheeks.

"Hermione." Minerva placed her hand upon the younger witch's shoulder as she sat next to her. Her fingers reaching over, tilting her chin to meet her gaze as tears fell into the palm of her hand. "Hermione."

The warm contact upon her face and the strikingly close emerald eyes reflecting off the gold rimmed lenses brought Hermione back to the present as she blinked back her tears, trying to focus.

"Listen to my voice, dear." Minerva said, gently running the outer part of her fingers up the woman's cheek, wiping the tears away. "You need to focus…"

"I…" A quiver ran through Hermione's spine as she tried to take a deep breath, "You can't die, Minerva."

"I assure you, dear." She withdrew her hand, "I can."

"Not from a curse…it's…wrong. After everything you have done…gone through…"

"I prefer to look at it as a blessing, as I could have died thirteen years ago." Minerva felt the wards shift, as the gargoyle began to activate. "It is not the end, Hermione." She stood pulling her walking stick to her. "Nor did I tell you, so you would focus on my death…but perhaps join me and those close to me in celebrating what time I have remaining as I hope to be here for many years to come."

"Minerva?" Filius' voice broke through her office and into the living room.

Hermione stood and nodded, "I shall try." She reached out, stopping Minerva's movement, before dropping her hand away. "But I shall also harbor the hope that one day a counter-spell will be found to your curse."

Minerva turned toward the balcony voiced raised, "One moment, Filius." She then turned to Hermione, a faint light reflected within her eyes. "Then I shall too."

Hermione felt a measure of relief at her soft acknowledgment that hope was not lost, "Thank you for your frankness, Minerva."

"Get some rest this evening, Hermione." Minerva said, "I'll watch the Tower after dinner."

"I…"

"And put your mind at ease," She continued on, ignoring Hermione's stammering. "Visit Rose and Hugo this evening."

"You have so much to do…"

Minerva pointed to her correspondence, "I shall save it, giving me an ample amount of work for later today."

"I'll ask Pomona or Filius." She said, not wanting to further burden Minerva.

"It is no additional work, Hermione. And I wouldn't have offered if it was." She stated, "Enjoy your evening and I shall see you at dinner and tomorrow evening for practice."

Hermione watched as Minerva swept down the staircase, her mind replaying their conversation as she grabbed a few strawberries as she passed the tray. The door to the Gargoyle swinging open as she neared, Minerva's and Filius' faint words barely grazing her ears as she stepped through the doorway. They were speaking about Slytherin's common room…

The Gargoyle's door ground close, Minerva's inner rooms vanishing from sight…but her words were still ringing in Hermione's ears…

_Eventually, it will claim my life…_

Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxo

Hermione gave Nix a treat as he nipped at her finger, "I know. Mom and Dad don't always give you treats, but they have gotten much better."

The owl twirled in agreement and hopped over to the small dish that usually housed his treats, and after grabbing one he spread out his wings and took to the air and flew out the window.

Hermione slit the envelope from her parents, a smile upon her face at the two drawings enclosed with her letter.

_Hermione,_

_We placed the order last evening, judging from your note we presumed the sooner it arrived the better. However, your father will be purchasing a laptop for you to use the program. We know you have steered away from non-wizarding devices, however, RosettaStone is software based._

_We are curious as to the sudden urgency behind learning Gaelic of all things. There are less than 70,000 people in the world who speak it. Spanish, French, they have several other languages available if you should change your mind._

_It has been wonderful having the grandchildren for three weeks at a time, it's just enough. Not too long that we can't manage, and not too short that it doesn't seem that they visited. Thank you._

_We enclosed a drawing from both Rose and Hugo, we thought they could help spruce up the walls of your room._

_Know they love you very much, as do we._

_Love,_

_Mom_

Hermione re-read the letter, wondering how much computers had changed since she had last tinkered on one. Hopefully not too much, she thought as she pulled out a piece of parchment, preparing to write her mother a note back, but stopped at the two pictures. A warm smile tugging at her heart, a tear in her eyes…her letter to her mother could wait until after her classes. She had some pictures to hang before her students arrived.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxox

Minerva stepped into Helena's office, shoulders' back and head high, as her stomach twisted in knots. She knew Helena had conducted tests on her after the incident the night before last and she would be again to see if her magical levels had stabilized…and tell her where it had stabilized at. Judging from her fatigue already at this hour in the day, she knew that whatever Helena had to say…the news was not going to be good.

"Minerva." Helena smiled as her esteemed friend walked through the door. "How are you feeling today?"

"A bit tired," The door closing behind her. "And yourself?"

"The same." She stated stepping around her desk and pulling her chair out in the process.

Minerva tucked her robes around her as she sat down opposite her friend, "I spoke with Hermione last evening."

Helena leaned forward, interested in exactly what Minerva had meant by 'spoke with'. "Regarding the Hukbar?"

"In a fashion." Minerva stated, leaning back in the cushioned seat. "And how it pertained to Johannes, Albus, immortality and we also touched upon my health…" Minerva went on to explain the particulars of what she had and had not shared with her protégé.

Helena set down her cup of tea, "If she ever learns of the truth, Minerva…"

"She cannot, Helena." Minerva's voice becoming steel. "Ever."

"But…" Helena was immediately cut off.

"Barring the extreme unlikelihood that Johannes survives, and I am…" Her throat caught at the word, and she found herself stammering. "Or rather have become, a squib…"

Helena interrupted, "We don't know that is what will happen when your magic stores have dissipated."

Minerva's jaw rippled as she fought for control over her emotions, "You have said yourself that the odds of becoming a squib before my body succumbs to death was…"

Helena pushed away her own heartache for the woman across from her, voice barely a whisper. "Almost a certainty."

"I intend to stop and or kill Johannes before that happens. And then I will retire to the Ridge and live out the scant time I have remaining in peace, with the last shreds of my dignity still intact."

"Minerva, you have nothing to fear about your dignity." She said, eyes full of sympathy. "But I am sure it will make little difference if Hermione learns that your magic is waning."

"She isn't ready to do what needs to be done alone, and she would try."

"In some ways, you are both shockingly similar." Helena stated knowing that if the roles were reversed, Minerva would undoubtedly do what she had suggested Hermione would do.

"The fact remains, she is to know nothing about the bonding or the drain of my magic."

"And when you can no longer hide it?"

Minerva took a deep breath weighing her words, "I hope to be retired and ensconced at the Ridge by then."

"Then, you had better be quick about it Minerva." Helena stated, dreading the knowledge she was about to impart. "The drain upon you this weekend was significant."

The time had come, and Minerva braced herself for the news. "How bad?"

Helena sighed, "Just above forty percent."

Minerva felt the breath leave from her lungs… "Forty percent?"

Helena nodded, "Yes, dear."

Minerva's head dropped to hide the pain, although it lingered in her voice. "Are you sure?"

"You know the answer far better than I." Helena's eyes searching her friend's visage.

Minerva closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deep…forty percent. At this rate…she wouldn't make it to the start of term next year. Her heart clenched at the notion, she had known it was a possibility…but reality and possibility were far different…and she took another steadying breath. She needed to focus. "What…" She raised her head, to see the tears reflected in Helena's eyes. "How long?"

Helena bit the inside of her mouth to keep the tears from actually falling, voice raw with emotion. "I'll need to conduct…" She paused and stood, eyes remaining fixed to Minerva's emerald ones. "Maybe August."

Minerva couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that Helena's words had caused, "August?"

Helena nodded, tears in her eyes as she stopped in front of Minerva. "At best."

Minerva glanced upwards, "And does the same apply, if I don't use my magic on simple or non-essential spells?"

"The less you use…"

"The longer I live." She breathed out, standing up and facing her friend. "I suppose I'll be using the floo network a lot more."

Helena reached out, embracing Minerva in a strong hug. "Do you even remember how?" She whispered, knowing how much Minerva despised using the floo network. She had only seen her utilize it perhaps a dozen times over their seventy plus years of friendship.

Minerva chuckled, the light reflecting off their tear stricken eyes as she leaned back, "I suppose we'll see."

Helena felt her mouth curl into a tender smile, "But as I said previously, it will only buy time; weeks maybe a month perhaps two at this juncture. Because of where you work, you are constantly using your magic."

"I know." Minerva said, stepping away.

"How significant is it beginning to affect you?" Helena asked knowing that Minerva had inquired based upon how she felt. Something must have drastically changed over the past few days, especially if she was willingly consenting to use the floo…her eyes quickly raking over the other woman, pausing at tips of Minerva's fingers.

"The drain has become, noticeable." Minerva obliquely replied.

"You could always resign, let the Order take care of Johannes. And perhaps you would live another two years."

"I can't, Helena."

Helena nodded, "I know. But I had to ask."

"Would you be able to sit and not help bring to justice the murder of your child?"

"You know my answer, as I know yours." Helena softly continued, "Do you want to get some lunch." Hoping Minerva said yes, enabling her to spend a little longer with her dearest friend to not only see how she was actually doing, but in an effort to help support her in her time of need…even if she didn't feel like she needed help.

"I'm needed back at Hogwarts." Minerva replied, "If I need anything prior to Saturday, I'll send word with Dilys."

Minerva began to glide past Helena, when the other woman stopped her, embracing her again. "You aren't alone, love."

Minerva felt her own tears prickling her eyes, "I know." Minerva returned the hug in full measure, and gave Helena a gentle kiss on her cheek before sweeping from the room. She needed time to digest the information. Needed time to adjust to the notion that she no longer had years…but had been relegated to months.

Stepping off the elevator, she walked across the reception area…and was about to apparate, when she forced herself to take the handful of additional steps to the wall of fireplaces…

And Minerva McGonagall did what she hadn't done since childhood, she drew up to the grate…voice clipped and precise as she stated her destination…green flames jumping in response, and then she stepped in, and found herself stepping out of the grate in her office, soot lining her once pristine robes as all the portraits did a double take upon realizing she was the one who had flooed into her own office.

She arched her brow at the previous headmasters and headmistresses, "As Dily's will undoubtedly inform you, it seems I will be flooing most days."

A hushed murmur swept through the room, each portrait knowing of her disdain regarding the floo network and how bad she must be if she were willingly consenting to use it.

Minerva muttered as she flicked her wand, the soot vanishing from her robes, glasses, and hair…as she made her way up to her private rooms, tears on her lashes before she had reached the staircase.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Tiredly Hermione walked down the path from the gates, eyes roving over the Castle's prestigious walls and she noticed that light was still filtering into the night from the Headmistress' office. Hermione dithered on whether to stop by and say thank you, after all it was past ten in the evening. Hermione continued debating as she swept up the staircases to check on her cubs, the portrait swinging open reveling the portal to the Gryffindor common room.

Her eyes confirmed that all was well, only two small groups remaining; one of sixth years and the other fourth years.

"Good evening, Professor." Justine stated in greeting, head turning back to the large volume she and the other two children were working on.

"Miss Davis." Hermione replied as she turned back around to leave.

"Were you looking for anyone in particular?" Kyle Evans, one of the sixth years asked.

Hermione paused, face indifferent as she glanced back to them. "Just saying good night."

The look upon the seven remaining Gryffindors within the common room was priceless as she strode out of the portal, feet guiding her down the steps…and without thought to the Headmistress' office.

She stepped to the Gargoyle, stating the password. "Highland Haven." And was surprised when the ancient stone staircase remained fixed and unmoving. Frowning, she uttered the password again, to no avail.

"It has been changed." The gargoyle groaned.

"I would like to see her." Hermione replied, trying to keep the impatience from her voice.

The gargoyle appeared to consider her words and before resettling into its slumber spoke again, "No password, no entry."

"Ugh…" Hermione growled back at the gargoyle, "Elgin." She called into the air, and was surprised when Milksy appeared.

"You'se called, Professor?" She asked staring up at the witch.

"I called for Elgin." She stated, wondering why Milksy had appeared instead of the elder house elf.

Milksy's ears dropped, "He's is unavailable."

"And I don't suppose you have the password to the Headmistress' chambers."

"She'se not wishing to be disturbed." Milksy deflected.

"How utterly convenient." She quipped at the gargoyle, and turned to Milksy. "Will you give her a message for me?"

At once a look of pride surged through Milksy's face, "Of course, Professor."

"I merely wished to thank her for watching the Tower this evening."

Milksy's head bobbed, "Yes is Professor. Anything's else?"

Hermione let her gaze flicker back to the stone wall, the unmoving gargoyle and felt a hint of worry creep into her bones. She had never given it thought, but the last several minutes had made the fact abundantly clear…if Minerva didn't wish to be disturbed, she had the ability to become ensconced within the Headmistress' Tower…and there was no way anyone could intrude, without her consent or knowledge. And after everything that had happened over this past weekend, the last thing Minerva should be…was alone.

"No Milksy, that will be all."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox

Minerva felt the silk nightgown slide down her skin as it dropped over her head, "It's becoming real, Albus."

"How long?" He asked, finally turning his eyes back to his wife.

"Perhaps August," She said, walking to the dresser and picking up her hairbrush. "Probably less." Her voice muted by the way she tipped her head to brush her long black hair.

"Tabby…" His tone barely audible, "How are you?"

Minerva continued her long deliberate stroke, "Tired."

His lips curled into a frown, he knew that she was hurting…she may be able to fool the world…even at times keep it from her dearest friends how much her heart was breaking or perhaps already broke, but he had known her for seventy-five years. He had been married to her for over four decades before his death; been bound to her, heart, body and soul for twenty-nine of those years…and he had seen the look within her eyes before…thrice, before. Their children's death and her brother's…"Tabby…please talk to me."

"It's…" She paused, straightening up her head, "I'm worried, Albus." She could feel the tears in the back of her eyes. "That I won't have the magic or the strength to succeed."

"Tell me..." He said, hoping to prompt what was truly bothering her.

Her voice caught as she spoke, "What if…I can't finish because…" The tenor in her voice rising two octaves as it broke, "I've become a squib."

He watched as she closed her eyes, tears trailing down her cheeks, head turning away in shame at her admission. "Oh…Tabby."

"To watch those I love die, because I can no longer…" Her cheek rippled as she steadied her voice, "Perform magic."

"That won't happen." He stated, trying to reassure her. "You'll defeat Johannes before…"

"Before the end?" She scoffed, tears now dripping off her jaw. "Before I have lost all that I am, almost everything I hold dear…" The brush slipped from her grip, clattering to the floor as she turned and stared at his painting, "I miss you so much Albus."

"I know my dear, and I you." He said, both wishing he could wrap her within his embrace.

Slowly she turned away…voice distant, tired and broken…"I can't imagine living even a solitary day as a squib." She said, sitting on the edge of her bed starring out into the night air, the cool breeze caressing her tear stricken face. "Let alone a month or months."

"That may not happen, it's all supposition." He stated as Minerva crawled up the bed, grabbing a pillow to her chest.

"Supposition or not Albus…" She tightened her grip upon the fabric within her hands and arms, "The fact remains, I tire after casting a mere handful of spells, and it has become incrementally worse as time passes. Logically…there will come a point when I will no longer be able to cast a solitary spell without it feeling as though I have partaken in a duel…"

"Can you still transfigure into your animagus?" He inquired, knowing how much that aspect of her magic meant to her.

"Yes." She muttered into her pillow, "But…even that is becoming, difficult."

"You'll get through this, my dear."

"I don't know how…Albus." She closed her eyes, and could feel the dampness from her tears upon the pillow's case. "It's all slipping away too fast..." She took a shuddering breath, "And at best, Johannes shall be caught and I shall be spending the last of my days in quiet exile, hiding from the world what has happened to me…waiting for death, the days aching forward unable to perform magic…"

"And when you do pass the veil, I have been and shall remain at King's cross…waiting, my dear." He whispered to her already sleeping form.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxox

Hermione blinked tiredly in the candlelight as she scratched a 't' on the top of the essay. She couldn't remember an essay written so poorly, even at the height of his ineptness, Ron would have been hard pressed to write an essay this bad.

A soft pop echoed in the room, as she placed her quill in her ink pot while her head turned toward the noise. Milksy's large eyes were blinking up at her.

"Good evenings, Professor Granger." She stated handing a small envelope to the human.

Hermione reached out, taking the envelope with a frown. It was just after one in the morning, rather late for someone to be writing a note and at once she flipped it over, and felt her frown deepen at seeing Minerva's distinct double M seal.

"Is the Headmistress still awake?" She inquired, slitting the seal.

"I's do nots believe so." Milksy stated as Hermione unrolled the small sheaf of paper.

_Hermione,_

_I hope you enjoyed the time with your children, there is a new password to my office effective the morning of the sixth. Kit's Korner. _

_Minerva_

"Thank you." Hermione said, fingers still grasping the note. "However, I thought you said the Headmistress was not awake."

"She's asked us to delivers after one this mornings."

Hermione's face remained unresponsive, however, she couldn't help wonder why Minerva had not had them delivered immediately. "Have a good night, Milksy."

"You'se too, Professor Granger." The little elf stated before apparating away.

Hermione let her gaze drift to the window, and she couldn't help wondering if Minerva had purposefully changed the passwords last evening to her rooms without informing the staff until after she was assured they were asleep, or she was. And whether Minerva's desire to not inform everyone was based on this past weekend and the Hukbar…or…was there something else?

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxoxo

_A/N: Hopefully this is still perking your interest; in advance regarding Minerva's outcome – I will only say that we will see the slow progression (and at times rarely fast) of how she will lose her magic. We will rejoin our characters on Saturday October 10__th__, and we will see a wee bit of training by Minerva to Hermione at the Manor followed by some dancing ;) See you next week._


	22. Chapter 21 October 10th, 2009

**Chapter 21 ~ October 10****th**** 2009 (Saturday)**

Minerva couldn't keep the frown from crossing her face as she watched Hermione and Ginerva duel. Hermione's wand speed had increased exponentially, causing Ginerva to be more defensive than she typically had to be. Frustration lined the young woman's lips and eyes at not having already beaten her opponent.

"She's getting faster, Minerva." Rory's soft voice tickling the hair along her neck.

"With her wand movements, but not her ability to see the spells coming." She replied without pulling her gaze away from the frantic spell casting between the two witches.

"She's only been working on it for a few weeks." He rebuked in Hermione's defense.

"With no improvement." Minerva stated, forcing her face to return to its usual placid and unresponsive state, eyes still following the duel.

After several minutes, Rory finally broke the silence between them. "When you taught me, you related it to dancing." Rory said drawing closer, a tender smile pulling at his lips. "And if I recall…it became a _most _auspicious day or rather days."

Minerva's gaze involuntarily shifted, a matching smile upon her lips as she too remembered the day he was referencing. The day that Derrick realized exactly how much he liked Rory…and vice versa.

"Auspicious now," She stated, turning her attention back to the duel as Ginerva's body went rigid. "Though, at the time it was mildly dangerous to even my health."

Rory chuckled, "Thank goodness your reflexes are remarkably quick." He leaned over, brushing a feather light kiss across her cheek. "Or what has become one of my favorite memories would have been a horrible one indeed."

"For you or me?" She inquired brow arched as she turned away while Hermione undid her binding spell that had temporarily frozen Ginerva..

"Probably both of us." He said as Hermione walked off the designated dueling area for the day and onto the side lawn, next to western wall of McGonagall Manor.

Minerva cleared her throat, "Thank you all for your efforts today." Minerva smiled at the motley crew of witches and wizards, "I'll see each of you next week and hopefully not before. Hermione, if you would stay for a few moments." She turned back to Rory as several members of the group began discussing the events of the day, including the dueling practice as she returned her attention to Rory…casting a subtle spell as she did. "You indicated that the move had begun."

Rory had felt the spell brush over him mere moments before her words, Minerva had muted their conversation. "After I assisted in modifying the caverns the first part of the week, they confirmed the area Thursday night and began moving yesterday morning."

"Did Frienze let you know how long?"

"Frienze?" Rory shook his head, "I dealt with Ryklar. He was…" A twinkle sparkled in his grey eyes, "Most amenable to my suggestions and for a centaur, rather complimentary of you."

"Did he give you a timeframe?"

"By Thursday all of the gildings from the Forbidden Forest will be relocated and half of the eastern Europe clan and a quarter of the western Europe clan will be moved. He believes by the following Thursday all of Europe's gildings will have been relocated."

"Rory, I can't begin to impart to you the need for secrecy regarding this."

"Is there anyone other than you and I who know?"

Grey eyes measured green ones, immediately noticing the fatigue lining her irises shrouded behind her glasses along with her heavy secrets that he knew terribly burdened her soul. "Hermione." She stated, breaking their eye contact.

"Are you training her to assist you or succeed you?" He asked, for the first time truly curious about Hermione's recent involvement in Minerva's life…and quietly guarded affairs. She had always skirted along the edge regarding what she did and did not share with her children and friends, only enough information so as to quell their curious nature but never the entire story. And he couldn't help but wonder what Minerva's motives were, and what she wasn't telling him.

Minerva reached up, lowered the edge of her glasses…eyes meeting his over the golden rim. He knew much of her plight, but she had never divulged the severity of her condition. "My time grows short and my magic wanes." Rory's face blanched at her words, and she continued on. "I seek a second person who if I cannot succeed, will be able to assist you in bringing this to an end. So, in essence, both."

Tears threatened his eyes, voice becoming gruff as he edged a hair's breathe closer. "I will go with you, sis."

Long slender fingers reached out, hand upon his chest…a shake lining her own voice. "I need you to protect the property, all of the property and everything upon it. Along with the family as you have always done." Her eyes turned incredibly warm, "I cannot worry about them to do what needs to be done."

"I can do both." His voice cracking as a tear slide off his lash and down his cheek.

"No, love. We both know, you cannot." She reached up, brushing his tear trail away. "And if I fail, I need you to help Hermione ensure that Johannes is caught."

"You will not fail, sis."

She took a step away, "Promise, Rory."

"Upon one condition." He waited until she nodded her consent, "I need to know if Hermione is the best person to assist you." His eyes darted to where the witch was standing; she was absorbed in a conversation with Ginny and Harry Potter at the moment. Slowly, his grey eyes slid back to Minerva. "How capable is she?"

Minerva's own gaze flickered over to Hermione and back, meeting his tender pain filled eyes. "She is the smartest witch or wizard to pass through the halls of Hogwarts during my tenure, with the skills to back it up. She will be as good as you Rory, perhaps even better than I given the time."

He scoffed, "Maybe an equal, but never superior."

"This is a conversation best had over a bottle of port and a game of chess, not upon these lawns and with eyes behind us."

Rory nodded, "I concur." He leaned forward, arms momentarily wrapping around her in a strong, penetrating hug…letting her know how much she meant to him, before he withdrew. "But I _will_ follow this conversation up, along with seeking details regarding how long before you join your beloved."

"Rest easy, it is not today." She said running her hand across his arm before stepping fully away.

"Minerva," He caught her hand before she turned away, "You rest easy. Your homes shall be safe as will your family, and if you have further need – just ask."

"Protect these lands with your life, and do not tell another soul regarding the gildings. I believe the unicorns will also join the centaurs and move their herd to the property."

"Three of the eight would be upon the grounds."

"Yes." She replied, "And Hogwarts, must not fall."

"It shan't."

"Even if I must die."

He gave a solitary nod, "I know." He said, turning away…the bottom of his kilt rustling with his movement as he turned to the hills and she to Hermione.

Xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Hermione shrugged, "Just lucky, I guess."

Ginny pulled her leather tie from her hair, "Your extracurricular activities are starting to show."

Hermione's face remained neutral, "I'm not doing anything different."

"You've learned something," She said as she pulled back her thick red hair, "I could barely get an offensive spell in against you."

"You're just slowing down, old age and all." Hermione replied, causing Ginny's face to turn sour as Harry doubled over in laughter as he approached.

"I'm not the one who just turned thirty." Ginny snapped.

"Lighten up, sweetheart." Harry said; tears of laughter at the sides of his eyes. "You'll get her next time." His eyes sliding over to Hermione, "But, I have to say, Hermione, Ginny's right. You're faster somehow…care to share?"

She mulled over his words, knowing that it would be invaluable to both Ginny and Harry but the time required time to teach them... It had taken her close to six weeks working with both Filius and Minerva, four nights a week and at least another two dozen times she was practicing on her own on how not flourish her wand. But, if she started, even a little bit at a time… "How about this evening? Marx is watching my House today, and I his tomorrow." She said noticing the intent conversation taking place between Rory and Minerva less than seventy feet away.

Harry turned to the side, head tipping to indicate Minerva as he spoke. "How long are you going to be here?"

Hermione's eyes narrowing as Rory's face visibly paled at whatever Minerva had just said…and even from here, she could see the tears sparkling in the sunlight against his grey eyes. _What on earth are they talking about? _Hermione wondered, knowing that the Highland man and she were far closer than most believe or realized. "I…don't think long." Her voice fading away, as she thought of possible reasons for Rory's sudden shift in demeanor.

"What about him, Hermione?" Ginny asked, nodding towards Rory as Minerva placed her hand upon his chest. "Is she involved with Rory?"

"She has never re-married." Hermione quietly stated as all three were now unabashedly staring at what could only be described as an intimate scene between Minerva and Rory. The elder witch reaching up, hand gently grazing across his face as her thumb caressed his cheek.

"But that doesn't mean she hasn't moved on." Ginny uttered as she pulled her eyes away to that of her best friend and husband.

"Perhaps, she has…" Hermione said, yanking her own gaze away, not wishing to further interrupt the private moment, "But, I know that it would not involve Rory."

"I don't know, Hermione." Harry's voice holding a bit of skepticism as their eyes met. "She seems _very _comfortable with him."

"Any more than I with you?" Hermione rebuked. Her statement causing him to glance down at his shoes for a singular moment.

"No." Harry cleared his throat, "But I understand what you are referring to and you are correct." He and Hermione had been the source of several scandalous articles regarding their relationship…and what defined their relationship. "But…they are close nonetheless."

"Much like you and I." Hermione said as she met Minerva's momentarily flickering gaze.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, drawing two pairs of eyes upon her.

"Quite." Hermione replied without hesitation.

"Well…then." Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's arm and effectively ending his wife's questioning, "We'll see you this evening."

"Perhaps sooner, I'll apparate back to the castle and fire call before stopping over."

Large smiles appeared on both Harry and Ginny's face, "Great. Hope meatloaf sounds good for dinner." And before she could reply, their hands grasped their respective portkeys, leaving Hermione alone along the side of the daunting Manor. She had been here five times before, twice had been within the past month for dueling practice with the Order…but this was the first time she had returned since witnessing the Hukbar and Minerva's memory regarding that night at the Manor with Esmerele.

When Hermione had arrived earlier, she had immediately noticed how much the grounds had remained the same from what she had witnessed the past weekend and yet, how different they were. The shrubs were full, last of the blooms upon the plants as the large birch and oak trees hugged onto their few remaining multicolor leaves before becoming barren for the approaching winter.

She could almost visualize where Minerva had found Esmerele…not even a hundred paces from where she stood. Her eyes momentarily gravitating towards the large rod iron gates that surrounded the property, as she pictured Johannes' form stopping just inside the gate, taunting…

"Do you have any plans this afternoon?" Minerva asked as she drew closer.

Hermione turned at once, forcing her mind on the present. "Nothing concrete…" She wondered what the Headmistress was planning.

"Good." Minerva said as her walking stick morphed back into her wand. "Because I would like to have you work on your dueling a bit more this afternoon."

Hermione didn't know what she had expected; perhaps a 'good job, wonderful wand work' but not that they would be spending the afternoon practicing.

Her facial expression and momentary shock written was easily discernable by Minerva as she continued on. "Your wand work is progressing quite well, however, your ability to discern where the spells will be striking or even the type of spell has not improved."

"It's not that I'm not trying." Hermione snapped back, "I just haven't had the time to pour into learning those skills yet."

Minerva bit back her immediate response regarding how truly precious time was to her and that she didn't have the luxury of a lengthy training process or for Hermione to perfect each area before they began to regularly leave Hogwarts. "We are not going for perfection, Hermione. Rather the understanding of the skill which you will be able to build upon."

The younger witch's eyes furloughed at Minerva's response, "But how will understanding help me when I am dueling."

"Understanding is the first key to adaptation."

"Yes, but applicability is as important as understanding when in the middle of a battle."

"True, however, the second cannot come without the first. And my concern is that you may comprehend on an analytical basis what we have spoken about for the past two weeks, you are not able to understand how it relates to a duel or battle."

"Watching the person's wand arm, torso, feet…" Hermione's voice paused at Minerva's quirked eyebrow, "Add in their shoulders and hips and you can tell where the person will be casting a spell."

"I know that you know what you are supposed to be looking for, Hermione. But do you understand how to look for what you need to see?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes."

"Then why were you not able to defeat Ginerva until after she missed a shield charm due to the increased speed of your spell casting?"

Hermione stammered, how was it that Minerva knew the course of the duel so well that she could ascertain what spell Ginny had not been able to cast quickly enough? "I…"

Minerva frowned, "If you can read the spell caster and know where the spells are going to be cast, it enables you to know what spells to block and which ones to allow through. Increasing your speed exponentially."

"But if you miss…"

Minerva's emerald eyes stealing the very breath from Hermione's lungs. "It can have a deadly effect." Minerva strode away, "Now…use any spell you see fit and try to strike me." She felt her hip pull as she increased the distance between them.

Hermione twirled her wand within her fingers as she watched Minerva limp noticeably away, "Minerva, from the limp in your gait…"

"Then it shall be rather easy for you to hit me." She stated as she turned around and drew to a stop, about seventy feet between them. "For I am old, feeble, and move considerably slower from my hip injury."

Hermione sighed, "You are not old nor are you feeble." She stated, wand at her side. "And regarding your hip, perhaps it does at times slow you down, however, you still move at a speed faster than most witches or wizards who are my age."

"But the fact remains, that you should be able to strike me if I do not use my wand in defense."

Hermione shook her head, "No. I won't hurt you."

Minerva waved her hand and her wand transfigured back into her walking stick. "You will not. I have faith that your spells will not permanently harm me."

"Minerva…the last thing you need is to be struck with a stunning spell."

"This is not open to negotiation, Hermione." Minerva's voice becoming hard, "You need to understand this. Now…" She opened her arms outward, walking stick hanging from the palm of her right hand. "I'm waiting."

Hermione went to raise her wand…

Minerva felt a flutter of anxiety wash through her veins. It had been years since she had done this exercise. She and Albus use to conduct it at least annually, but the last time it had been done was before Harry and Hermione's fifth year, fourteen years ago. Before she had been attacked by Umbridge, her hip had been shattered from the impact upon the earth in combination with an errant spell and before Albus' hand had been scorched black…

The vinewood wand raised upwards, spell upon the younger witch's lips…

Minerva felt the air shift along the Manor…tendrils of her hair blowing against the wind…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Rory paused as the wind shifted, his eyes gravitating back toward the Manor. And he felt his eyes involuntarily squint at seeing Minerva pull her arms upwards, walking stick dangling from her hand. "What in blazes is she doing?" He muttered, eyes darting to Hermione's form.

He watched her arm rise, and he felt the sudden urge to bolt back down to the Manor...to witness whatever exercise Minerva was going to impart upon Hermione now. He had hoped that she would heed his advice, but…from the looks of it – she had something else in mind…and he was intensely curious to see what it was…

At that moment, a flash burst forth from Hermione's wand...

And Minerva didn't move, she just remained standing still, arms outstretched as the bolt neared…and at the last second she arched her back as she drew to the side. The spell whizzed past her torso and he watched the manicured lawns of the grounds burst upwards about a hundred feet away as the spell impacted the earth.

Minerva standing only a foot from where she was, arms still outstretched…waiting.

A second spell sprung from the tip of Hermione's wand…

Rory watched as Minerva dropped her shoulder and spun to the left. The spell almost grazing her long neck and Rory felt a smile curl upon his lips. He had partaken in this exercise with Albus, Minerva, Derrick and the Flammels throughout the years. The longest he had ever managed was twenty-two minutes before being struck, Derrick had been the castor. Minerva though…held the record against every castor, even against Albus. Rory remembered one spring afternoon, everyone had gotten together…the whisky had flowed, and Derrick had bated Minerva into facing off against Albus. Nicolas and Derrick had placed their money on Albus, but he and Pernelle had believed Minerva would take him. It had been a marvelous display of magical prowess by both the witch and wizard. Albus had taxed her for over almost twenty minutes that day as spells had flourished from his wand at a speed that defied reason, and she had spun and darted around the room at a speed that matched his wand casting. It was a testament to her skill in combination to her animagus reflexes in how long she had lasted. Then, it had been turnabout…and she was the castor. It became evident after ten minutes that Albus was almost equally as deft as Minerva, but even with his great resources, he was not as adept or as fluid. However, the same could be said about her spell casting…and it was summarily decided that everyone else was at a significant disadvantage when conducting this exercise that had turned into a friendly game…as they only had to contend with each other, whereas everyone else had to contend with them both.

He watched as Hermione's spells started to become faster, and knew that the speed was driven from the younger witch's frustration and couldn't help but smile. If she was already beginning to get frustrated after two minutes, he imagined that she would be at her wits end in another five.

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It had been ten minutes, perhaps more…and Minerva was beginning to tire. She would push a few more minutes, she thought as she watched Hermione cast again…

Minerva dodged to the right, and felt her muscles along her ribs pull all the way into her hip as it exploded in pain. Her breath caught as another two spells flew from Hermione's wand, causing her to almost miss how Hermione's body moved. Though, her lips curled into a smile through the tears of pain at the spells heading her way…a boogey leg hex and a binding spell.

She avoided both spells with less ease, as her hip was becoming unresponsive, "Is that all, Hermione?"

"How are you..." She flung another three spells in successive order at Minerva, "Avoiding these?"

Minerva weaved to the left before arching backwards, head twirling to the side to keep her eyes trained upon her opponent. But as she straightened upwards, her hip gave way, and she found herself gritting her teeth as she willed the joint to catch…

Oxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo

Rory had known that Minerva's hip had been deteriorating since Esmerele's death, and he had seen her resort to the use of a walking stick. At first, he had believed it decorative. But, then he had seen how she had placed ever so much weight upon it when most were not looking and he realized that was not the case. She _had_ needed it to walk. And as the years had passed, her usage of the appendage became more pronounced in her daily life, but one would never have surmised how badly her hip had become. She had never let it deter from her quick clipped gait, and at times, though they had become less frequent, a small tabby cat would be seen darting across the edge of the Ridge's property…

Yet now…as he watched her body crumpled beneath her from her own weight, her hip no longer able to support her…

His heart sunk…

She had said her time was waning, and as she contorted her body to remain upright, he began to realize…exactly what that meant. Tears already blurring his vision as he turned away, he had a promise to keep…

Oxoxxoxxoxxoxoxoxxooxooo

Hermione sprung forward as Minerva twisted around, knee sinking into the lawn as her hip caught…

"Minerva…"

She held up her hand, "I'm fine Hermione." She ground out, fingers stretched out along the lawn balancing her, head still tipped downward as she curtailed her breathing. "Just an old wound."

"Are you sure, you're alright?" Hermione asked kneeling beside her, hand upon her shoulder.

Minerva took another steadying breath, willing the pain to abate. "Fine." She replied, lifting her head. Jaw tight, "It appears that I may no longer be able to adequately demonstrate this exercise."

"You are being ridiculous." Hermione said, eyes searching her mentor's. "That was phenomenal. How were you able to avoid those spells?"

Minerva placed her walking stick into the ground, pushing herself upright…and felt a pair of hands upon her waist assisting her. "I'm fine, Hermione." She snapped.

"No." Hermione uttered. She had seen the elder woman in an elegant gown, held her broken body as she had cried her soul out last weekend…but as Hermione helped the woman up…she couldn't believe how easily her hands wrapped around Minerva's slender waist. She was in extremely good shape…she thought, immediately pulling her mind back from last weekend's events, and the slender milky creamed skinned body curled around her own body. "You're not, Minerva." She said stepping around to her side. "You're body has been through an immense shock this past week and whether you admit it or not, you are not invincible. What you just did for the past fifteen minutes is impossible, and yet, you did it as though you were transfiguring a pin into a quill."

Minerva met Hermione's gaze, "Perhaps, but it remains incredibly frustrating to not be able to do what I once was able to do."

"And when was the last time you did..." Hermione pointed out into the lawns. "That?"

Minerva didn't want to concede, but nor would she lie. "It has been some time."

"Since Albus' death?"

"The year before." Minerva admitted, "Between his hand and my hip fourteen years ago, we chose not to push over the summer as we were both…" Minerva paused as she recalled flashes of their last summer together. "Engrossed in other things."

"How often did the two of you practice?" Hermione inquired, wondering how long it would take for her to be able to do what she had just witnessed.

"Initially, several times per week. Later, perhaps a handful of times per year." Minerva replied. "When Derrick was alive the four of us and the Flammels used to practice and see how long we could go before being struck by a spell."

"Who could go the longest?" Curiosity getting the better of Hermione as she asked.

A coy smile crossed Minerva's lips. "I held the record with each person. Though with Albus' spell casting abilities, the longest I ever went was twenty-three minutes with him and averaged just over thirty with everyone else."

"How much does your animagus reflexes help?"

"A bit, though do not let that deter you, Hermione. As Albus averaged twenty-six minutes; though he complained at my casting speed many times as he could not last as long with me." She chuckled at the memory, "Nor I with him. Everyone else would state that they were truly disadvantaged as they had to contend with us both. Derrick, though did quite well usually lasting almost twenty minutes. However, I always liked Pernelle's style. She was the epitome of non-essential movement, an art I have slowly adapted to over time. Though I lack the subtle flair that she exuded as she would move about, perhaps after another five hundred years I could attain that too."

"You have a flair quite unto your own, Minerva." Hermione stated drawing a sidelong glance from the elder woman.

"I think we have drifted from the course of the conversation." Minerva stated, "If I were to engage you and cast a series of spells at you, would you be able to avoid being struck by the spell?"

Hermione laughed out right at the question, "Through sheer luck, perhaps one."

"The purpose of learning how to watch a person's body language, wand movement, and footwork is to enable you to do what I was attempting to do."

"You don't expect…"

"That is what you are here to learn, Hermione."

"I…" Hermione paused, collecting her gaping thoughts. "Alright, but what you see and what I do are vastly different. You've said what to follow, but in the heat of a battle when people are trying to kill you, how are you still able to focus and what in blazes are you focusing on to see all of that?"

"Do you know how to dance, Hermione?" She asked.

"Dance?" Hermione asked incredulously, the connection between the two lost upon her.

"A waltz, mambo, fox trot, salsa, tango, rhomba…dance, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't stop the frown from crossing her face, "Not to any of those."

Minerva began the unsteady climb back to the entry of McGonagall Manor, Hermione by her side. "I've seen you and Ronald dance…"

"To slow dances, nothing formal." Hermione's voice turning almost whimsical.

"I find that rather peculiar." Minerva said as she paused, placing her hand upon her hip to apply a bit of pressure. "You always seemed to enjoy dancing."

"I did." She stated, eyes following Minerva's hand movement. "However, Ron always found quidditch more enjoyable."

"And you never followed through with what…" Minerva turned her eyes fully to Hermione, "You enjoyed?"

Hermione couldn't help but swallow at the intense stare piercing her brown eyes. "It takes two to dance, Minerva." She quietly replied. "And it was not worth the aggravation."

Hermione's words pierced Minerva's heart and the words spilled from her lips before she could reign them in. "Aggravation…dear Merlin, Hermione. A relationship exists in equality and at times doing things that you may not fully enjoy, but that your partner does. I have never asked, and forgive my presumption, but is that one of the reasons you and Ronald are seeking a divorce?"

Brown eyes fell away from Minerva's face, "One of a two dozen reasons." She quietly stated. "Now, you say…" She cleared her throat, pulling the heartache from the cadence in her voice. Willing her mind not to think of a world in which Ron actually cared what she thought; enjoying or at least trying to enjoy what she did; listening to her… "Or rather, you inferred it related to dancing."

Minerva knew from Hermione's body language that now was not the time to ask further regarding Ronald. "It is the best analogy and tool for someone to understand where to look if they need a guide."

Slowly Hermione brought her gaze back up to Minerva, "And if I am not familiar with those dances or dancing in general?"

"Come." Minerva nodded towards the Manor, ignoring Hermione's question as she began stepping forward at a slow, but steady gait, the pain erupting in her joint with each step. She was going to need a pain potion before she contemplated doing anything else for the afternoon.

Hermione immediately followed, "Minerva…"

"It may be a bit awkward, but…" Minerva waved her hand and as they approached the double twelve foot doors began creaking open, granting them entry to the Manor. "I believe we can rectify two problems." She stated as she stepped into her ancestral home.

"Two problems?" Hermione asked as she walked in front of the ornate lion statues that were guarding either side of the door.

Minerva turned her head slightly as she raised her hand, stating, "Just a minute Hermione." As she continue walking down the hallway, "Bonnie."

Hermione's eyes gravitated past the large, ultra wide marble staircase with wood trimmings that wrapped around and up to the second and probably third floor to the semi-familiar hallway past the entry of the Manor, following Minerva's progress. She had been inside the Manor only three times before. The first time Minerva had hosted a dinner party for herself, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Percy, George, and Molly and Arthur celebrating the one-year anniversary of the fall of Voldemort. The second and third one had been at the five and ten year anniversaries respectively; the last two times she had only invited herself, Ron, Harry and Ginny keeping it to a small, quiet evening. Minerva had given them a brief tour that encompassed the first floor…or what she had thought was most of it. At least during the tour it had seemed that way.

The Manor was splendidly old, with high vaulted ceilings and carved woodwork throughout…deep mahogany crown molding and matching hardwood floors spanned the rooms she had visited downstairs; including the formal dining room, private or as Minerva had called it – the casual dining room where they had eaten the past two times, the formal living room, drawing room, two bathrooms, and a walk-in closet to hang their cloaks. She was curious as to where the McGonagall library was located; as it had not been part of the tour she had received and didn't know how it would be able to be located on the first floor.

Hermione watched as Minerva stopped at the far end of the hallway past the small, casual dining room in front of the set of double doors hand upon a burnished brass handle as a house elf unlike any she had ever seen popped up next to Minerva. The snow colored hair was neatly combed and braided with a tartan tie clasping the end. And unlike the tattered garb of most house elves or even the neat, yet worn clothing that Elgin and Milksy wore…this elf wore a pressed white shirt and a McGonagall tartan skirt from what appeared a high-end wool material.

Hermione couldn't discern their quiet exchange, but after only a mere moment, the house elf vanished and Minerva was opening the doors. She watched the elder witch's head scan the room for a moment, and after apparently being satisfied at what she saw, Minerva leaned back. "Come down, Hermione."

Hermione walked down the hall at a quick pace…and upon arriving at the open doors, felt the air rush from her lungs. The room was a large, ornate ballroom with high vaulted ceilings, four smaller chandeliers throughout the corners of the room and one large, rod iron one in the center that appeared that it could hold over five hundred candles alone within.

The ballroom was adorned with rich gold and scarlet trimmings, and the floor reflected a high polished oak with matching crown molding and baseboard. On the far side and the southern wall were walls of glass and the fabled McGonagall grounds beyond…

"It has been some time." Minerva said as she continued walking across the room, "Since I have been in here, but this room will work for the afternoon."

"This place is…" Hermione remembered seeing large dance halls within people's homes in old movies, but never in person. "Like out of a movie." She turned around, arms stretching outward. "It's wonderful."

Minerva glanced up as Hermione twirled about, the afternoon light splaying through the top window panes…across the high polished floor…until it sprinkled across Hermione's midnight robes, her wavy chestnut hair…light tanned skin…and sparkling brown eyes…

And Minerva felt her breath catch.

The younger witch was truly beautiful.

She had noticed her before, when her body was alive with need…but now…she found her eyes wanting to look at the woman. To follow the line of her neck, her jaw…and before she permitted her gaze to drop past Hermione's head…she snapped her eyes to where Hermione's would be if she had been facing her.

_Great, _Minerva thought, _my 'need' is already beginning to spread into my daily life. Five episodes sooner than when I was younger. _

"How long has it been since you've used this room?" Hermione asked as she turned and faced Minerva.

"Quite a few years." Minerva said, eyes dropping as Bonnie appeared beside her.

"Mistress." She said, handing her a tumbler with brown liquid within.

"Thank you." Minerva replied, fingers curling around the glass and in one swift motion upended the pain potion, quickly finishing it off before handing the tumbler back to Bonnie. "Would you like anything before we start, Hermione?"

"Start?" Hermione stepped closer, "What, exactly?"

"Your lesson." Minerva said, eyeing her expectantly. "Perhaps some water or a nip of whisky."

Hermione's eyes darted to the glass within the small house elf's hand, "I'll have whatever you did."

Minerva sighed, "I doubt you'd be inclined for a draught of pain potion. Although, Bonnie…" She returned her attention to the Manor's house elf matron as concern etched upon Hermione's face. "I believe we'll settle for a quart of bronze 1931 malt."

Bonnie gave a curt nod, "Yes, Ma'am." Her eyes darted over to the other witch and extended her hand outward. "My's name's Bonnie."

Hermione managed not to show the shock she was feeling as she extended her hand in return, "Hermione." She replied as she shook the dainty hand.

Bonnie's brow quirked and turned to Minerva as their hands fell away, and Minerva gave her a solitary nod before she returned her gaze to Hermione. "As is in Hermione Granger?"

Hermione was dumbfounded, but nodded nonetheless. "Yes."

"It's a pleasure, Ms. Granger." She stated with a slight bow to her head before a crack could be heard and she was gone.

Hermione turned questioning eyes to Minerva, who was already in the process of answering. "The house elves under my employ have been watching the house elf freedom movement, and are…" Minerva paused as she searched for the correct word to describe how the elves felt. "Quite interested to see the outcome. In addition, they have been following your role in assisting their brethren to garner freedom."

Hermione didn't even realize Bonnie had reappeared until her thin crisp voice followed Minerva's, "And we's is most impressed and thank you." Bonnie stated as a small circular table appeared beside her along with a silver bucket filled with ice, two glass tumblers and a quart size, brown bottle with a bronze label embossed with a scarlet McG in the center with a year penned beneath ~ 1931.

"I…" Again Hermione was flabbergasted, "I'm not doing anything other than what needs to be done."

Bonnie's lip curled into a smile, "If only there were more magic folk like you and the Mistress' family." And then she winked and was gone.

Hermione's eyes darted to Minerva, "She is unlike any house elf I have ever met."

Minerva reached out, waving her hand...cubes of ice magically appeared in each glass before she took the small bottle within her left hands, with a wave…the old cork jumped into her right one as she brought the top level with her lips before passing it beneath her nose. It was a fine bottle, well aged...with a hint of hickory. "I'm sure." She cryptically replied as she extended out her hand, pouring an ample amount in both glasses. "As the elves who live or become employed here receive a formal education."

"Really?" Hermione questioned, unbelievingly. "What about the ones who work at Hogwarts?"

Minerva reached over picking up both tumblers as she set the bottle down, and handed one to Hermione. "Several have opted to receive some formal training, however, it will probably be another generation before it becomes standard and a way of life."

Hermione tipped her glass towards Minerva's, "To change."

The pain began to ease in her hip as the potion took effect, and the quiet echo of the tumbler's clink permeated through the room as Minerva quietly marveled at how apropos Hermione's toast truly was. "Change." She whispered…thinking how much her life had changed and how much it would continue to do so for the foreseeable future.

Hermione drank a sip, and then pulled the glass back…eyes narrowing at the liquid. "Your family label has mastered the art of a good whisky."

"Glad you approve." Minerva said, knocking the rest of glass back as did Hermione, "Over the years, we have scaled back our production as we have refined our product, though we still produce one muggle line."

Hermione set her glass down, "What one?"

Minerva shrugged, "I have no idea." She stated, honestly. "On occasion I still stop by the distillery, but I do not see the final labeled product. For my personal stores, I just ask for the simple label and it to be dated."

"How many labels does the distillery still produce?"

"Eleven." Minerva stated, "Though only nine are marketed."

"What about the other two?"

"Come, come. Miss Granger." She chuckled as she stepped out onto the floor, "You are a wise witch, why would I not market the other two?"

Hermione took a handful of steps in pursuit as she pondered Minerva's question. "It is marketed to only select customers."

"One of the labels is hand crafted, geared to the affluent. The other, is for the family's personal stores shall we say."

"Personal stores? Don't you receive cases of each label, annually?"

"Too true." She said, "Now…" Minerva cleared her throat shifting, a limp still prominent.

Hermione frowned, "Are you sure you are up to instruction, a pain potion, Minerva…?"

Minerva waved her hand, "My hip is a troublesome problem, but not insurmountable and it was a small draught to take the edge away."

"We can wait…"

Minerva shook her head, "This cannot, Hermione. I shall be fine, now as to why we are here."

"If you're sure this will not cause additional harm…"

"I can assure you, it shan't." Minerva's voice was unyielding, firm and Hermione nodded.

"Alright, why are we? And what two problems were you referring too?" Hermione asked, making a mental note to inquire as to when exactly Minerva had injured her hip.

"The first one is regarding your ability to 'read' how a person cast spells and subsequently being able to avoid those once they are cast at you."

"And the second?"

"Dancing."

"Dancing?" Hermione felt her voice tighten, "As in…you and me?"

"Yes, as Rory was kind enough to remind me this afternoon how effective dancing's technique is in expediting the learning process. And as time is of the essence…we will be muddling through a dance or two until you grasp the fundamentals." Minerva chuckled at Hermione's face. "I won't bite Hermione."

"I…that's not…" She cleared her throat, facing turning red, "I don't see how you will be able to teach me to dance and read how someone duels. I still fail to see the similarities."

"Bonnie…" Minerva stated clearly into the air, "Will you play something appropriate for a waltz?"

Hermione's head spun around, looking for signs of the unique house elf and saw no one, however almost immediately soft strands of music echoed through the air. "Where…?"

"Modern technology and a bit of magic can be a glorious combination. Now…" She held out her hand, "Have you ever waltzed?"

Brown eyes left Minerva's pale face and darted to the other woman's hand and back. "No."

"Do you trust me?" Minerva asked, meeting worried eyes.

"Yes." She extended her hand out, wrapping it into Minerva's as she quelled her sudden anxiety, "But...I don't see how that pertains to dancing." She stated, forcing her voice not to stammer as Minerva began guiding her arm upwards. It wasn't as though Minerva hadn't done this before, she had…during her fourth year for the Yule Ball. Minerva had stepped and shown all the students how to dance…interchanging partners, either male or female…

Minerva reached out and placed Hermione's hand upon her shoulder in a curved form as she placed her arm beneath Hermione's, the heel of her hand along Hermione's ribs to the side of her breast…fingers wrapped around her back and touching her shoulder blade. "This…" She moved her left hand to indicate Hermione's arms and the placement of her hands, "Is the basic frame. As your level of comfort and knowledge increases; the frame and the distance within the frame changes; this change is necessitated by the movement of each person. And…" Minerva pulled Hermione a hair's breathe closer, voice tickling the across Hermione's skin. "Trust is imperative when dancing, Hermione."

Hermione gazed into emerald eyes, her heart beating slightly faster…and irregular as the scent of lavender pervaded her senses. "But what of the similarities between dancing and seeing spells and knowing where they are going to be cast?"

"We are going to do a simple box step…" Minerva said ignoring Hermione's question. "One…" She stepped forward, "Two…" She stepped to the right, forcing Hermione to step left… "Three…" She brought both feet together, "Four…" She stepped backward, pulling Hermione with her, "Five…" She stepped to the left… "Six…" She stopped, bringing both feet together again. "That's all there is to the basic waltz."

Hermione nodded, "But you still haven't answered my question…"

"Do you have the steps?" She asked, still avoiding her query.

"Yes." Hermione stated.

"One more time." Minerva easily guided them through the simple box steps, "Good. Now…" Minerva paused, momentarily searching the younger woman's face. "Close your eyes."

"Minerva…" Hermione seemed mildly taken back, "I just learned…"

"Trust, Hermione." Minerva replied, head dipping to enable her to gaze over the rim of her glasses and straight into chocolate brown eyes.

Slowly, Hermione closed her eyes and could hear the soft tendrils of music, smell the lavender scent she associated with the woman, Minerva McGonagall…

"Now…feel…" Minerva's voice was quiet between them and at once began moving…eyes trained upon Hermione's, ensuring her eyes remained closed as Minerva swept her around the room. Guiding her…

Hermione began moving…swallowing her nervousness at Minerva's sure footedness, confident posture, guiding body…and the moves seemed to come easier, and before she realized it…she felt her body spinning away, and as she opened her eyes, she felt a tug upon her arm, and before she had even oriented herself…she felt Minerva's hand back along her side…and then all of their movement stop, and she was once again staring into Minerva's piercing emerald eyes.

"How did you know which way to go?" Minerva asked, hands falling away from Hermione and back to her sides.

Hermione blinked, "You…your movement, the way your arms pulled, how your shoulder dipped…"

Minerva tilted her head, "That is how they are corresponding, Hermione." She stepped back, "One will teach you how the body moves, thereby knowing where to look if you don't already know how."

It felt as though an epiphany had jolted through Hermione as she listened to Minerva's words, and she couldn't help but wonder how she had been so dense. "I'm going to surmise that different dances assist in learning how to observe and how to see and understand aspects of body movement."

"A valid assumption, but only partially true. It isn't so much as the types of dances, but the knowledge and understanding of how a variety of muscles move or ripple across the body. Some dances or types of dances do little to garner that knowledge, others are able to assist in several areas at once."

"And the waltz?"

Minerva smiled, "A marvelous tool, especially as the difficulty level increases through turns, spins, dips, and whatever else one can incorporate."

Bonnie suddenly appeared beside Minerva, "Mistress, Elgin has asked that you'se receive this immediately." She stated handing her a rolled piece of parchment.

Minerva grasped it at once, uncoiling the document…eyes immediately scanning the words, a frown tugging the corners of her face. "Helena sends word that two bodies came in this afternoon, badly damaged. One barely alive, the other mutilated and had been dead for days. Gregory Evant is the wizard fighting for his life, he was the Care of Magical Creatures professor from 1944 through my first two years here as a professor. The other…was Sandra Turmbolt." Minerva's voice caught as she muttered, "She was a professor prior to my attending Hogwarts."

"Is that all?" Hermione asked, sensing that something else was enclosed that Minerva wasn't sharing.

The elder witch took an unsteady breath, before a hollow voice whispered. "I must go."

"Minerva." Hermione reached out, hand barely grasping the other woman's arm. "What's going on?"

"Audrey…" She breathed out, "Is in St. Mungos." Her wand was immediately within her right hand, elongating into a walking stick as she pulled away. "I'll see you in the morning, Hermione." She spun around, heels clicking across the floor.

"Minerva…" Hermione darted after the emerald clad witch, "Did Helena say if she was alright?"

"I don't know," Minerva stated as she turned left down the hallway, and then right…the doors barely springing open in time as Minerva stormed into the drawing room.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Hermione stated as Minerva's hand plunged into a dish of floo powder, green ash scattering across the floor.

The question, so innocent, so giving…caused Minerva to pause…hand drawn back, fingers slacking to throw the powder into the grate as several grains dribbled onto the polished floor. Her eyes reverting back to that of Hermione's, and for a moment, she considered her question, seriously considered it. But…Minerva couldn't afford to involve the younger witch in her affairs anymore than she already was. "No, but I thank you, dear." She said, sincerity lining her voice. "I shall see you tomorrow, have a good visit with the Potters." And before she could change her mind, Minerva threw the powder into the grate and almost instantaneously stepped in after.

Hermione watched as Minerva's body vanished, and she couldn't help but wonder how Minerva was able to floo without stating her destination. Or how in the devil Minerva had known she was going to Harry and Ginny's this evening. Sighing, she eyed the fireplace and the powder now littering the floor around the dish. "One of the thousand mysteries involving the woman, Minerva McGonagall." She muttered to herself as she stepped forward. It wasn't worth walking across the grounds of the Manor, to walk across the grounds of Hogwarts to fire call Harry and Ginny before flooing over.

Hermione reached her hand into the dish, withdrawing an ample amount of powder and threw it in. "Potters Place." She stated and stepped into the green flames as her thoughts remained fixed upon the green-eyed witch who had left mere moments before her.

Xoxoxoxxoxoxooxoxooxoxoxoo

Minerva's long strides brought her to the Administrator's office within moments of receiving the parchment and then she felt her steps falter at the joyous noises emitting from Helena's office. _Surely, nothing serious would have happened to Audrey if Helena is laughing…_

Frowning, hand upon the door…she pushed it open to see her family within.

"Mother." Percival's grin becoming if at all possible, larger, "I'm so glad you came." He stepped forward, past Malcolm and scooped her into a warm embrace.

"I received a note from Helena about Audrey." Minerva stated as Percival pulled away, her eyes first drilling Percival and then Helena…before landing on her daughter-in-law. "Are you alright?"

"We…" Audrey stepped around Tessa, drawing up beside Percival. "Have news, that we wanted to share, immediately."

Minerva cocked her brow, "Then you are alright?" She asked, eyes still scanning the younger witch.

"Quite…" She glanced to Percival who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, "Save for a touch of morning sickness."

"Morning sickness…" Minerva felt the weight that had settled upon her chest, instantly lift at what they were inferring. "Are you sure?"

Percival and Audrey both nodded, voices in chorus as they stated, "Yes."

Minerva's walking stick vanished from her hand as she leaned forward, arms outstretched before pulling both of them into a hug. "That's wonderful news." She said, tears upon her lashes… "How far along?"

"Three months." Audrey mumbled into Minerva's robes. "I'm due in April."

"April…" Minerva quietly repeated as she closed her eyes to hide the pain, the tears now coming from pain instead of joy. Pain that there was only a slim possibility that she would see her granddaughter born…and if she did…would never see her first birthday…watch her take her first steps… "Wonderful." She said through a broken voice, the rest of the family easily mistook for joy…

Except Helena who turned away for a moment to brush her own matching tears away from her eyes…knowing that Minerva's tears were not only caused by joy…but the knowledge of the future, and the impending pain it would bring.

Xoxoxoxxoxoxooxoxooxxoxooxxoxoxoxo

Hermione stepped from the grate, to see Ron leaning over, lips pursed and brushing another pair…

Immediately he drew back, shock lining his face at seeing Hermione step from the grate as Harry's voice greeted her ears. "Thought you were coming later, Hermione."

"Obviously." She clipped, eyes riveted to Ron and the witch he had just been about to kiss. The woman had a petite build, with silver blond hair, sparkling black eyes. She reminded Hermione of Fluer's younger sister. "And I thought," Her eyes drilling into her soon to be ex-husbands. "You were watching the children today."

He shrugged, "Yeah, but…" He nodded to the woman beside him, "I made other arrangements. Fresca and I are going to see the Chuddly Cannons exhibition game this evening."

"Exhibition game." Hermione ground out, feeling her already down trodden mood further sour. "Tonight."

Ron nodded, "Yeah." He jerked his head from Fresca to Hermione. "Hermione this is Fresca Francis," He jerked his head to Fresca, "And this is Hermione Weasley…I'm sorry, Granger now."

Ginny stepped into the room and felt like diving under the rug at seeing Hermione. Of all the times for her to come over early…and Ron was being his typical, oblivious self.

"Pleasure." Hermione said, nodding to Fresca, "But…who is watching the children, Ronald." She snapped.

His eyes darted back to hers at the use of his full name, and from the rigidity within her voice and he couldn't stop his back from straightening as he readied for what he knew would undoubtedly digress into a fight. "With mum and dad."

"How could you ask Molly and Arthur to watch them, they watched them for three weeks up until last weekend and you are already asking them to watch them, again?" His audacity seemed to know no heights.

"I asked, they said yes." Ron snapped, "And it's not like you ever volunteer to watch them."

Harry and Ginny both recoiled from Ron's spiteful comment, but even they were unprepared for her reaction, or rather her failure to react. She turned away from Ron, jaw quivering as she spoke to the two of them. "I won't be able to stay for dinner, I'm sorry." She said before turning back to Ron. "You can pick the kids up at Hogwarts tomorrow afternoon, where _we_ will finish this discussion."

"Hermione…" Harry said, jumping up. "Wait."

Hermione was already throwing a handful of floo powder into the grate, "Not tonight, Harry." She said and whispered, "The Burrow." A tear dropping off her lash as the green flames engulfed her.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxox

_A/N: Can't believe it has already been another week – wow does the time fly! Next week we'll pick up at October 11__th__. _


	23. Chapter 22 October 11th, 2009

**Chapter 22 ~ October 11****th**** (Sunday)**

Minerva drew the fabric closer to her as the cool morning sea air cut through her thin silken robe, eyes watching the waves crash upon the rocks. After a few moments, she pulled her glasses off, waving a spell over the lenses to remove the salt spray from the water.

Mornings at the Ridge were beautiful and much like the Manor…the only sounds exuding from the area was that of the birds, the trees…nature…a welcome respite after spending the last two months at Hogwarts.

"Mistress." Elgin's distinct voice cutting through the relaxing thrum of the waves crashing below.

"Good morning, Elgin." She said, glancing to one of her trusted, albeit smaller friends. He was dressed rather stately this morning, and not in his usual worn clothes…and she smiled knowing the cause would be here shortly, giving him a hard time as usual.

"Will you be's returning to Hogwarts for breakfast?" He asked handing her the morning's report.

"Yes." She said, absently putting her glasses on as the parchment unfolded, eyes scanning the notes. There was nothing of import, though… "Are you sure that Hermione's children came to Hogwarts yesterday?"

Elgin nodded his head, "Yes, Milksy brought them up a late dinner."

Bonnie appeared next to Elgin, "You'se tea is ready." She turned to her compatriot, "You'se be seeing her soon enough. As will Hogwarts."

Minerva smiled at Bonnie, "Thank you. And Elgin will be leaving momentarily." She returned her gaze to the other house elf, "Do you know what time they arrived?"

Elgin's ears bobbed to the left and right, "No, only that it was after dinner had started."

Minerva felt a frown curling at her lips, "Thank you Elgin. I will be returning shortly."

"Yes, Mistress." He bowed his head, and then turned to Bonnie. "You'se is looking quite lovely this morning, Bonnie."

Minerva could have sworn the hue in Bonnie's cheeks had a slight rose tint, and it had nothing to do with the rising sun.

"As do you, Elgin." Bonnie's quiet voice returned, "Now…" She cleared her throat, "You'se be needing to leave, I's quite busy this morning."

Elgin wasted no time, he merely gave her a low bow and was gone…as was Bonnie…leaving Minerva alone. Sighing, she banished the parchment within her hand and returned to her bedroom. The morning twilight and handful of candles, creating a soft glow within.

Unlike her chambers at Hogwarts, the walls were carved in a warm cinnamon maple, with purple, ivory and hunter green accents throughout the room. A large four poster bed, with a canopy was against the outer wall…enabling its occupants to gaze out of the windows and overlook the beautiful seascape below. She walked around her end table and over to the small breakfast one…pulling the chair out, as she fingered the lid of the tea pot before pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee. She never understood why Bonnie insisted on serving her coffee in a tea pot. Sighing, she picked up her coffee, eyes gravitating to the front page of the Daily Prophet…mind still upon yesterday's events.

She had invited everyone over to the Ridge last evening, including Filius and Pomona. Harold had not been able to attend until dessert, which he graciously assisted Minerva and Rory's efforts in finishing off a hundred year old bottle of cognac.

But…after everyone had left, she hadn't felt up to returning to Hogwarts last evening. Quite the opposite. She needed some time alone, time to process Audrey and Percival's news…and how that related to her choices.

Choices she would not undo, but the aftershock of those choices were beginning to become glaringly apparent and incrementally more difficult to bear.

She still had the choice, not to pursue Johannes. Resign from Hogwarts as the Headmistress.

She may be able save the last forty percent of magic she had…and use it sparingly…she may even live long enough to see Katherine go to Hogwarts; Callum learn how to fly a broom; and see the unborn child chattering with its parents…seeking understanding to the most basic of concepts.

However…that meant that Johannes might live and could ultimately destroy what remained of her family.

Granted, there was no guarantee that she could stop or perchance kill the man, but her chances far surpassed any others…even Rory's. And, good…bad…or indifferent…she was dying. They weren't.

She folded the paper as she set her coffee down, tears in her eyes. Not at the decision that had to be made, but…at what it would cost her. The grandchildren who would never know her, only know of a woman in the history books named Minerva McGonagall…a legend…which she wished she was not, and wished they would not learn of _that _woman. But rather of her passion of reading, chess, dancing, playing the piano, furthering the study of transfiguration…time with her family…none of which she would be remembered for, save for her prowess in transfiguration.

Standing, she idly began to get ready to face the day as she shed her robe and night gown. Nimble fingers picking up the thin chemise and slipping it over her head. Her thoughts remaining upon her choices…

Choices that had seemed so right at the time. The choice to bond to Albus after Callum's birth; remain at Hogwarts following Derrick's death; her and Albus' decision to bond to Hogwarts…to begin to heal the foundational wards…

Tears were slipping off her lashes as she slipped on her second layer of robes, the line of the fabric magically sealing beneath her fingers.

Her choice to save Jordan instead of going over to the Potters…

She wove her hands in an intricate pattern, her hair rising upwards and then the long pins began to slide into place, holding the bun.

Having Harry live with his family…

She slipped on the thick outer robe, again drawing her finger up…the fabric magically sealing beneath.

Her and Albus' decision to search for the horcruxes…as they continued to strengthen the wards…

Minerva pulled the last layer, the emerald overlay onto her robes…

Her choice not to greet Albus that fateful night at the Astronomy Tower when she had felt the wards shift…instead believing her fatigue was from her day, and not the potion he had drank…

Her right hand…absently pulling off her wedding band…and with a wave, it morphed into a Celtic knot, her broach. She twirled it within her fingers, eyes glancing at the piece of jewelry. Albus and she used to laugh at how they wore their wedding rings by day…hers as a broach, for all the world to see; to the point…it would be unheard of for the woman named Minerva McGonagall to be seen without her broach on. Whereas, Albus had changed his…a fine metallic belt at first that wrapped about his robes, and later…as his beard grew…a clasp to hold his beard…

Her choice to remain at the meeting at with the Board of Governors as her daughter was being murdered…

She fastened a pair of pearls to her ears as she summoned her wand and glasses…her back straightening as she tucked her glasses into her robe. Choices or not…they were a thing of the past and the only thing she could do was to make the best choice…decision with the information she had at the time.

And as much as she would love to see her soon to be newest member of the family learn how to walk, say her name; or Katherine go to Hogwarts…it was for naught. They were fanciful dreams of a world without men who would hurt those she cared for. And if there was to be death...it was a choice that she would make, the same one she had made countless times before…but…

She stepped out of the room, the door swinging close behind her as she swept down the hall of her home towards the study…

This time…it would be different. Unlike previously when she had always sought balance…ensuring there would be a chance for her survival, keeping a promise she had made to Albus upon the day of their marriage…now it mattered not. The outcome would be the same…she would be dead, very soon. Now the only thing that remained…was the choice in how she would die.

The door opened into the lush emerald and ruby studded room, with a large family tapestry hung upon the wall…

For she would choose to fight Johannes, and hopefully be successful…not passing the burden to someone else, nor permitting the soulless wretch of man the opportunity to kill any more of her friends, her children, or her grandchildren.

Her hand sunk into the floo powder…

She would choose to spend what time she had left with family and friends…

A trail of powder streamed from her hand as she snapped her wrist, the green flames bursting in the grate…

If life was about choices…she had made well over a million, and she had only truly regretted one…and it had plagued her soul these past fourteen years.

"Headmistress of Hogwarts." Her crisp words reverberating through the room.

And she would not regret another five or six years because she had chosen life at the cost of a friend's or a family members…

Minerva stepped into the grate, the doubts about her choices erupting into flames as her body was swept to Hogwarts as hope beat within her chest at the mere possibility of a world existing without Johannes…and she at least being able to witness the birth of another grandchild.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo

Hermione's eyes remain riveted upon her daughter…the sun just beginning to rise, soft shafts of light streaming into the room her thoughts remaining fixed upon yesterday…and her unforeseen meeting with Ron and his new girl…Fresca.

Since they had separated, he had often spoke of reconciliation…and she had steadfastly refused. Knowing that even if they did reconcile, it would be short-lived. They had grown too far apart and had too few similarities. Add into the fact that Ron would never expand his likes or even tolerate several of hers…and then there was the whole issue of intimacy that had become non-existent over the past several years.

He had even spoken to her less than a month ago, pleading with her not to file the paperwork. Asking for another chance.

And now…after yesterday, it had become glaringly apparent that Ron had moved on. Or was in the very least, attempting to move on with his life.

Hermione felt her jaw involuntarily tighten. Not at the notion of him finding and meeting a woman. She understood finding someone and giving it an opportunity to grow, but the fact that he had been begging her less than a month ago to move back in. Even that, she could overlook…barely.

What she could not stomach, was that their children had been brushed aside for a date. He barely spent time with the children as it was. Once every three weeks he would have the children for one week, as the following three weeks one of their respective parents would have them. In addition, every other weekend that he had them…they were with her. He would see them for twelve days over the course of eight weeks.

Twelve days…

He rarely saw them, and if he wasn't careful…he would miss seeing them grow up. Correction, she thought, he had already missed so much of their young life…

To see quidditch of all things, she scoffed. Having his parents watch Rose and Hugo so he could watch a quidditch game. But an exhibition game…

She stood up, legs cracking as she did from the lack of movement over the past several hours. She needed to change her clothes and head down for breakfast shortly, but instead of steering into her room…she paused at the small desk just outside and opened the drawer on the left. Her eyes were greeted with a well worn document, one she had pulled out and looked at multiple times over the past four months…but now, all her hesitation was gone.

She flattened the parchment out before reaching out with her right hand and taking the quill out of the holder. She dipped it into the midnight blue ink…and scratched her name across the bottom along with this morning's date.

"Milksy." She called out and at once, the creamy house elf appeared.

"Ma'ams." Milksy stated, staring up at the witch, arms crossed in front of her.

Hermione stared at the document for another long moment before she grasped it within her hands and rolled it up. She withdrew her seal and wax…and after another ten seconds passed, was setting the sealed document on her desk. She would stop by the owlery on her way to breakfast…and then, it would be officially over. Ten years, gone. "I will be going down to breakfast for a short while, will you be able to stay up here during that time to keep watch over the children until I return."

Milksy nodded, "Of course. I's will also let you'se know if they'se wake up."

"Thank you." Hermione smiled at the little elf, "That would be wonderful."

"I's be backs when you'se will be leaving."

"You're an angel, Milksy." She said as she stepped around the tiny elf and into her rooms, leaving a blushing Milksy in her wake.

Once sending the parchment off, sometime in the next few weeks…it would be official, and truth be told…she was not relishing the inevitable media fallout. Her face soured as she thought of her dissolving marriage splattered across the front of the Daily Prophet…the wireless…the Quibbler…

Her fingers unfastened the clasps to her robes…and at once shrugged them off her shoulders…

Nor was she anxious to see the derogatory comments regarding either she or Ron…whose fault it was…

She flipped her inner robes onto the edge of her bed…eyes darting to the bathroom, and thinking of the shower within. She didn't really have the time, but…it was Sunday after all. She didn't have classes today, just a two foot stack of papers to grade in between spending time with the kids. _To hell with it_, she thought summoning a towel as she strode into the bathroom.

Pictures of them with other people as they tried to assign blame for their divorce…

She had shed the last of her clothing, the warm water already creating steam throughout the room...

A divorce that was inevitable for no other reason than she _wanted_ more out of a relationship. She _wanted _to feel involved…

She opened the door, stepping into the marble shower…

_Wanted _to feel needed…

Fingers testing the water…

_Wanted_ to be loved.

The warm water sliding down her skin, washing away the last of her doubts about moving on. Because she _wanted_ all that and more…and perhaps not until after the children were grown, but at some point…she was going to get what she _wanted…_

To love, and be loved - equally.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxxoxoxo

"It was marvelous news." Filius quietly stated to Minerva as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.

"News that warms the heart." She replied, setting the pot back down.

"I haven't seen Percival…" A tender smile came across his face, "Or for that matter, everyone that happy since Cal's birth."

Minerva nodded, but did not want to give his comment additional credence. It was true, there had been very little to celebrate the past several years. "There will be a semi-formal dinner next weekend to celebrate, you and Pomona are most welcome to attend."

"We wouldn't miss it." The tenure of his voice rising with his excitement. "Just let us know the time."

Minerva gave a smile, in response having just taken a bite of her croissant. She watched as Filius turned and quietly, though the excitement was still exuding off of him, began to relay events to Pomona.

She took the momentary lull in conversation and allowed her eyes to sweep across the Great Hall. It was a typical Sunday, with few children in attendance…they would be drifting in over the next hour. As would the second string of Professors to watch over the late arrivals…

Her attention was diverted as a series of owls swept into the Hall…one pulling up and landing before her. She gave the large barn owl a strip of bacon and as it flew off, slit her son's seal.

_M ~ _

_Thank you very much for last night and this coming weekend. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is that you are here to share this news with._

_Love, _

_PMcD_

She read it once more, heart swelling up in joy that her son would finally be able to start a family…something both he and Audrey had tried for and given up on after over twenty years. She banished the note to her rooms, eyes trailing down the teacher's table…noticing that Hermione had received a letter too.

And if she wasn't mistaken, whatever was written within was causing the color to rise upon her cheeks…

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

Hermione gulped as she re-read the letter again…and she could feel the color rising up in her face as she did.

_Hermione, _

_I hope this letter finds you well. I was hoping you would do me the honor of meeting me for lunch next Saturday in Hogsmeade after the Order meeting. _

_Angelina_

Lunch…with Angelina. She was sure that George had played a role in the letter… She would make a point of calling and asking him…

But then again…should she.

It was just a lunch meeting, no strings…no attachments… Angelina had always seemed rather nice, and it would be refreshing to just get out. Spend time with someone, other than Harry and Ginny. Not that she didn't like them, but…she didn't want to become a third wheel.

But if she went…would she be leading Angelina on? That thought, caused her body temperature to increase…her mind immediately jumping back to the night of her birthday, and the kiss they shared…

"A letter from Ron?" Sinistra asked noting the slight blush creeping farther up Hermione's neck.

"Uhhh…" Hermione folded the letter in half, "No." She cleared her throat, and the image…along with the feel of the soft lips from her mind. "Actually, a letter from a…friend."

Sinistra leaned closer, a coy smile upon her face. "From the expression on your face, I'd say perhaps a friend…with what do they call it now days," She paused as she searched for the correct phrase. "Ahh…yes, benefits."

The soft rose hue vanished as her face blushed red, "I'm afraid that isn't the case." She stated.

"But you wish it were." Sinistra stated, eye arched as if daring Hermione to rebuke her comment.

Which…as much as she wanted to…a part of her didn't.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxx

"If you would be so kind Godric and ask Hermione if I may enter." Minerva stated to the elder portrait.

"At once, Minerva." His rich baritone voice stating, but before he stepped through the painting, he smiled over at her, "And I hear congratulations is in order."

Minerva's face split into a smile, "Yes. Thank you."

Godric gave her a bit of bow before leaving his portrait. Minerva didn't have to wait long as the door opened, Rose's chestnut hair flying to the side as her head peeked out. Eyes darting up to the visitor. "Aunt Minerva." She flung the door further aside, arms outstretched as she ran forward. "You…" Minerva scooped her up, adjusting her along her left hip and not her right one. "Can come in. Always." She wrapped her arms around Minerva's neck.

Minerva's brow cocked at the young woman, "One must never presume, my wee bonnie lass."

Rose chuckled at what Minerva always called her, before asking. "What's presume mean?" As Hermione stepped into the opening.

"Rose what did I tell you about getting picked up?"

"I'm too old." She said, fingering the hem of Minerva's neckline. "But…" She turned to her mom, "Aunt Minerva said it was okay, just this once."

Hermione barely kept a straight face at Rose's imploringly innocent gaze, "Alright, this once." Her brows rose up, "But give her a hug and then down."

Minerva felt two thin arms wrap around her again, a squeeze and then she lowered the young woman to the ground. "You give wonderful hugs, Rose. Thank you."

Rose beamed up at Minerva, "You do too." She said before grabbing Minerva's hand. "Come see what we drew for Mommy's wall."

Minerva glanced to Hermione, who stepped aside motioning for her entry. "How are you this afternoon, Minerva?"

"Doing quite well." She replied as Rose continued tugging for her to walk faster. She paused and dropped to one knee, bringing her just beneath eye level with Rose. "I'll be along shortly, dear. I need to speak with your mother first."

Rose frowned, her lower lip beginning to dip into a pout, "But…I haven't seen you the last two times we've been here."

"I know, my wee lass. And I'm sorry for that. And I promise I will come see your beautiful drawings as soon as we finish speaking."

Hugo came barreling into the room, "Auntie Merva."

Rose's head whipped around, face an exact replica of Hermione's when proving a point, "It's Min..erva. Not Merva, Hugo."

He flung his arms around the kneeling woman, kissing her cheek. "Come." He started pulling on her arm, "Pictures."

"Rose, Hugo." Hermione stated, both children immediately pausing to look at their mother, "Why don't you draw Aunt Minerva a picture while we talk."

Hugo's face split into a grin, his head bobbing…as his tiny legs carried him out of the study and into the room beyond. Rose turned back to Minerva, "You won't leave without seeing our pictures, will you?"

"I'll be along shortly, dear." Minerva replied, and nodded towards the room. "I promise."

Rose's brown eyes searched the other woman's…and then darted after her brother. "I'll keep Hugo busy for a few minutes, Mom." She yelled behind her, bushy hair, so similar to her mother's trailing after her.

Minerva's hand tightened around her walking stick as she pushed upward, to straighten back up. "And how are you today?" Minerva asked, trying not grimace from the pull in her hip as she drew back to her full height.

"A little tired, but good. It's nice having the children here." She said, motioning to the couch and chair. "And what of Audrey, is she alright?"

Minerva sat opposite of Hermione, "Quite," She stated, "They wanted to share with me their news."

"News?" Hermione questioned.

"Audrey is three months pregnant." A smile playing at the corner of Minerva's lips.

"Pregnant." She leaned back, "Is this their first?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes. They have tried for some time, and had given up…" She shrugged at the notion, "Apparently too soon."

"Well that's wonderful, Minerva. Congratulations." Hermione's face beaming with joy for the other woman. "Though, I would talk with Helena about her format in relaying the news to you."

"I already did." Minerva stated, "But…after how I left the Manor yesterday afternoon, I wanted to tell you that it had in fact been good news."

"Thank you." Her voice sincere, "And congratulations."

"And you seemed to have found your children last night and not the Potters." Minerva stated.

"I hope that isn't a problem," Hermione scrambled forward, worry immediately upon her face, "I know they aren't suppose to be here until next weekend, it's just that Ron left them with his parents to go to a quidditch game on a date…and I know Molly and Arthur had plans last evening, even though they had told Ron they would watch them. And I couldn't ask my parents as they are not returning until tonight from France."

"Easy, Hermione." Minerva's voice was calm, reassuring. "It's no problem at all. They are welcome here at any time."

"Are you sure it wasn't or isn't a problem?" She stammered.

"Your children are precious, dear and no problem. Besides," Minerva stood. "Milksy loves it when they visit."

Hermione was speechless by Minerva's statement, _Milksy?_ "I had no idea…" She said standing too.

"Quidditch, huh?" Minerva frowned, "I didn't realize their pre-season had started."

"It was an exhibition game." Hermione stated as the two women began to slowly walk towards the sound of the children.

"One I'm sure that had few if any starters for the respective teams playing," Minerva continued on without thought, "And for Ronald to begin dating before your marriage has been dissolved…" She paused, turning towards the younger witch. "I'm sorry Hermione." She sighed, "I fear my age betrays me as my views regarding betrothals are rather old fashioned. I didn't mean to offend…"

Hermione reached out touching Minerva's arm, causing the elder woman's words to falter. "I know and you didn't, Minerva." She said, voice becoming soft as her hand fell away, "They are similar feelings to my own, but…I daresay, I could be as guilty as Ron after my birthday party."

Minerva thought back for a moment as to what Hermione was referring to, and fought to keep her face expressionless. "I don't believe George's, shall I say, birthday gift…could be construed as a date or the potential of companionship other than simple friendship. Or am I incorrect in my assessment?"

Hermione felt the muscles in her jaw slacken at Minerva's words, "I…uhh…no, but it still happened."

"And have you seen Mr. McGregor, Mr. Weasley, or Ms. Johnson in a social setting, other than the Order meetings?"

"No, but…" Hermione stammered. "Even if I had…it wouldn't have been anything other than friends…"

Minerva's head tipped ever so much to the side, eyes twinkling as they gazed at Hermione. "I know, Hermione. Hence, the difference between you and Ronald."

"I don't understand…" Hermione's words were stopped short as Rose slammed into Minerva's leg, effectively interrupting their conversation.

"Ugh…" Rose said reeling backwards. "Aunt Minerva…is it time yet for you to come see our pictures?"

Minerva held Hermione's gaze for one second more before turning her entire attention to the young, soon to be lady, staring wide-eyed up at her. "Lead the way, lass."

Rose grasped her fingers and squealed in delight as they began walking into the living room, Hermione following behind. "Look…" Rose waved to the group of drawings splayed out across the floor, "That one," She pointed to the drawing closest to Hugo, "Is for you." Rose sat down, pulling Minerva with her. "Here." She said, handing the picture to her Aunt.

Minerva took the drawing, eyes taking in the picture, smile forming on her lips. A good rendition of her was standing in the middle of two children, a boy and a girl…the boy hugging her leg, the girl waving up at the witch clad in green. "This is for me?" Minerva said, turning to Rose.

"Yup." Rose said pulling another drawing over to her.

"You did a marvelous job on this." Minerva said as Rose went to hand her another.

"Ma'am." Godric's deep voice pulling both Minerva and Hermione's attention. "A Mr. Weasley is at your door."

Hermione dropped her gaze to Minerva, "Would you mind staying for a few minutes?"

"No, but would you like us to leave?" Minerva asked, as she took a second drawing from Rose.

Hermione shrugged, "It isn't necessary, I'll close the door, and we'll talk in the study. I won't be long."

"We'll be fine." Minerva replied, "Won't we." Minerva reached over tickling Rose…whose giggles followed Hermione out of the living area as she closed the door behind her. The distant sound of her daughter's laughter lifting her spirits…despite the conversation that was about to ensue. And then she heard a second bought of laughter, causing her to pause as she placed the unfamiliar ring…it was rich, lively…and a smile spread across her face as she pictured Minerva laughing with her children.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Despite the closed door, Minerva could hear tendrils of the growing exchange between Hermione and Ronald. Unobtrusively, she glanced over to the children, their expressions showing that they too heard their parents' voices causing Minerva's heart to sink. "Come…Rose, Hugo." As she rarely called them by their given names, they immediately turned to Minerva who put her hands out, "How about I show you where I'm going to place your drawing?"

Brown and blue eyes worriedly met hers. "Will they yell more if we go with you?" Rose asked, hesitantly.

Minerva wrapped her arm around Rose in a hug, "No, they won't."

Hugo tugged on her outer robe, "I's don't like it when they talk loud."

"Come." She said fingers wrapping around Hugo too, "Milksy." She called out, and immediately the light skinned house elf appeared, a smile spread across her face.

"Yes, Mistress." She stated, yellow eyes blinking over to the children within her arms.

"Please remain here, and when Hermione enters, inform her that we went for an…excursion. And then please come and get me."

Milksy nodded her head, ears bobbing. "Of course, Mistress."

"Hi…Miksy…" Hugo said.

"Hello, Milksy." Rose stated.

"Now…" Minerva tightened her grip upon them, "Let's take a short-cut, shall we?"

Before either child could respond, she apparated them into her office. The effect was instantaneous as they stared wide-eyed around the room. "Where are we?" Rose asked, head tipped back as she gazed up the tall walls, eyes taking in all the knick knacks upon the shelves, books, and…then she stopped upon seeing the vast number of portraits hanging from the wall. "And who are they?" She asked pointing up at the wall.

"They," Minerva turned her head to follow Rose's line of sight, "Are the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts."

Rose's face scanned the portraits, obviously searching for something and finally after a full minute turned to Minerva, a frown upon her face. "But you aren't up there." She said, pointing up at the portraits causing several of them to smile at her statement.

"No, lassie. I'm still the Headmistress."

Hugo had scrambled over and pulled off a book, which Minerva summoned to her. "How about…" She took her wand out, and flicked it a few times…the pillow on the sofa snapping into a pup. "That?"

"W…ow." He pushed himself upright, and stumbled forward…hand stretched out to pet the puppy.

"But that means you are supposed to be up there." Rose stated, eyes darting back to the portraits. "As you're the Headmistress."

"My portrait will be up there soon enough, sweetheart." Minerva stated, "Now…" She raised her recently acquired picture, "I was thinking of placing your beautiful drawing…" She stood up, trying not to wince as her hip straightened out, and then used the desk as support, Rose watching her aunt.

"But…if you aren't up there now," Her eyes darted to the wall of pictures, "And you'll be up there soon…then why don't you just go ahead and put your picture there now?"

Minerva paused and gazed down at Rose. She was indeed, her mother's daughter…from her inquisitive mind to her brilliant intellect and brown eyes with matching hair. "Because, I'm still alive, wee lass."

Rose's eyes became the size of saucers as she turned to Minerva, "But, what does that matter? Of course you're alive."

"For my picture to be up on that wall…means that I will have died."

Brown eyes darted to the wall and back to her aunt, "But…then you won't be here when I come to Hogwarts or Hugo."

Minerva gazed lovingly down at the little girl, "Not if I'm up on that wall."

Rose shook her head, curls flying back and forth, "I don't want to see you up there." Her voice becoming high, "Ever. Aunt Minerva." She ran around the desk, arms wrapping around the lower part of her waist. "You are always so nice." She murmured into emerald robes, "Mom and dad don't talk loud with you. And…mom's always in a good spirits when you're around."

"I won't be going anywhere for a while." She whispered kissing the top of the chestnut head snuggled around her waist.

"Good." She mumbled, tightening her grip.

"Now…" She held the picture out, "How about…" Placing it behind her office chair, "Here?"

Rose pulled her head out from Minerva's robes, eying the wall and where the picture was placed. "Hugo?"

"Playing." He replied before covering his face again to hide from the puppy's licking tongue.

"It appears the decision is solely yours." Minerva stated, eyeing Rose, whose fingers had finally dropped her small handfuls of Minerva's robes.

"I don't like it there…" She said, walking around Minerva and grasping the picture out of her slender fingers. "How about…" She spun around, looking and then stopped. "Here?" She asked, placing the picture several feet beneath the portrait of Severus Snape.

"Are you sure?" Minerva inquired.

"Yup." She said, smiling. "That way you're up there too, because you're a Headmistress. But Hugo, mom and I get to keep you here too."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxxoxoxoxo

"I am not jealous of Fresca, Ronald." She snapped back, noticing how he seemed to look almost down trodden, and realized exactly what he had been doing or rather been trying to do. "Nor would you make me jealous, Ron. As I said, it's over. And my aggravation with you lies not with you going on a date to a quidditch game, but that you ignored the fact that your parents already had plans…"

His ears were already turning pink from her comments as his brows frowned, knitting together. "I didn't know they had plans…"

"You are daft, Ron. Ginny and Harry bought them tickets for their anniversary to see a performance at the muggle theatre in London. And you just assumed, didn't ask them…how so very typical."

"They could have said no." He rebuked.

"They love the children too much to say no." Her voice becoming marginally louder as her frustration with him increased. "And you probably presented your plight as usual, and they, in turn, believed you had picked up an extra shift at work."

"Stop acting like you know it all," He muttered, "I did tell mum and dad that I was going out."

"Did you tell them with whom?" She asked.

"Of course." His tone becoming indignant.

"Really." She snipped, "Because they certainly seemed surprised to see me."

"I…uh…" And before he could stop himself, "That's because I had hoped to take you."

"Well you certainly have a funny way of showing it." She said, exasperated. "And what you thought I'd see you there, kissing Fresca…"

"She a friend from work…"

"I don't kiss the friends I work with, Ron."

He scoffed, "I'd hope not. You'd throw your back out necking with Flitwick, or Merlin forbid you and McGonagall…" His face flinched, "She's old enough to be your…mother…better yet, your grandmother. And she's far too prudish to even think of kissing another woman…"

Hermione could feel her blood boiling at his insults directed at her friends, "Yes well, I'm sure they _both_ kiss far better than you ever did."

"I can't believe you'd say…"

"What, that we haven't been intimate in years? And then only when you're drunk, when the only thing lasting about you is your saliva…" With sheer will power, she reigned in her insults and her anger...trying to remember that their children were behind the door just beyond. She returned to the more pointed issue, "And to kiss a friend you work with, you dolt. I can't believe you didn't see anything wrong with that."

"There wasn't anything to it, Hermione." He said placing his hand upon her shoulder. "Honest, you must believe me."

"From the way your lips were upon hers, I'd say there was."

He grimaced standing upright, "Damn it, Hermione. Alright, I kissed her. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just…" He shrugged, "Kinda did. But, nothing…and I mean _nothing _happened between us." He nodded towards her, "And how is that any different with what you did at your birthday party?"

"My birthday party?" She questioned, "You…" Her voice rising, "Were there." The reign on her anger, gone. "And to bring it up now, you son of a bitch."

He took a liberal step back, realizing that the course of the conversation had just taken a massive turn for the worse. She had been angry previously and he had seen her jaw clench at his comments about the Headmistress and the Deputy. Now, though…her magic cracked around her as she stepped closer, the very air between them becoming charged.

"What was I suppose to do? Live in Harry and Ginny's living room for the rest of my natural life? And I certainly didn't see you having any objections that night. As a matter a fact, if I recall…" She took another step closer, and he a matching one back before coming to an abrupt stop as he made contact with the stone wall. "You…" She pointed her finger at his chest, "Were rather boisterous when I was kissing Angelina."

His ears were turning bright pink as she continued on.

"Whistles…cheering…" Her hand made contact with his breast bone, "All in all, I believe your kiss with Fresca and the ones at my birthday were far different."

He leaned forward, "Even if they were…" His voice becoming gravely, "One thing hasn't changed." His eyes dropped to her lips, "You are gorgeous when mad."

"Ron…" Her voice dying away as he covered her lips with his own.

And for one second, Hermione reveled in the feeling of the warm body pressed up against hers…the way his hands slid along her waist, pulling her closer…the sudden rush of heat spreading through her veins as his tongue plunged into her mouth…

Unlike the kisses a few weeks ago…this one was fueled by knowledge of what was to come…as the only time their lovemaking had surfaced over the past five years was after a discord.

She could feel his response swelling already against her stomach…and she moaned into his mouth as his hips involuntarily ground into hers…

Her hands drawing his head closer…as his mouth finally relinquished hers…to drop to her neck…kissing her jaw line…

"Mione…" He murmured…against her neck…

And Hermione felt the world come back into focus. "No." She quietly stated, hands dropping away from his head to his shoulders as he nuzzled her neck a moment longer. She pushed him away, taking a step backwards. "No, Ron." Tears were forming in her eyes, "I love you." She whispered, "And all of you foibles." She reached out, finger trailing his cheek. "But, _we_…" She pointed to her and then him, "Can't exist this way. And it isn't right for our children to be raised in that type of environment."

"You can't tell me that you don't _want _us," His voice gruff, "I felt your desire, just now. I know you still want me."

She took another step backwards, "It isn't about momentary desire, Ron." The edge returning to her voice, "But rather what is best for our respective lives, what we want out of our lives, and what is best for our children." Her voice momentarily broke, "And you know as well as I that us being together does not correspond to any of the aforementioned, quite the opposite." She stated, "If we were truly in love…you wouldn't kiss someone you work with, and I wouldn't _want _more out of our life."

"Hermione…don't say that." He said, imploringly, "I love you."

"No." She said, a tear forming upon her lash. "You love the idea of me. Ron."

"What kind of ridiculous notion is that?" He asked, brows furloughing, "The idea of you…? I love you."

"Then why have you been trying to get me back, but you are willing to kiss another woman? No, Ron. You like the idea of us being together. Harry's friends…together…and you know as well as I, the fallout of our divorce is going to be awful. But, it has to happen, Ron. Because, we…don't belong together. We never have, but it was the natural course of life…everyone assumed that it would happen, including us. We were best friends...and one thing led to another…and then we were married. We had Rose…and the sparkle began to wane from our relationship, the arguments started. We pushed through it, thinking it was the natural course of a relationship. And then…one night, we lost ourselves to passion that I have not felt since and I got pregnant with Hugo…but our marriage continued to dissolve. You want more…as do I…and there is nothing wrong with that. But, that means, we need to let us go…"

"Hermione…I can't just walk away." He said, eyes sparkling. Reminding Hermione of times long since past. "You're too important."

"Then work through this, with me. And let us remain friends, Ron. Because, that is all we will ever be."

Tears welled up in his eyes, "Hermione, that isn't good enough."

"It has to be Ron." She took another step back, increasing the distance between them. "We were done, before this…" Head shaking, "And this…just showed me and hopefully you that it was finally over."

"Because I kissed…"

"No…Ron." She whispered, "Because, I don't feel any anger at you for you kissing another woman. But rather, that you would be willing to spend an evening away from your children…who you barely see as it is, to go to a non-sense game of quidditch. You are missing our children's lives…much like we are missing our own."

"You really don't believe there is any chance for us to get back together, do you?" He asked, realizing for the first time that he and Hermione may truly not be getting back together.

"No, Ron." Her voice faltering, "I don't."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "Alright. I'll…" He cleared his throat, "Ugh…" Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, "Get the kids."

Hermione met his blue gaze, throat closing up as her teary eyes matched his. "There in the room next door." She said, walking to the door…and opening it up, to see Milksy's large eyes blinking up at them.

"Mistress said that she's took the children out. I's to get her…" She said, and with a pop was gone.

"Mistress?" Ron frowned, "Where are Rose and Hugo?"

"I left them with Minerva." Hermione stated. "They'll be back…"

And as if on cue…Rose, Hugo and Milksy appeared suddenly by Ron's side.

Rose turned to her mom, "Did you know that Aunt Minerva has a _huge_ office? And there are all these pictures on the wall, and that's where we hung the one Hugo and I drawed."

"Drew, dear." Hermione corrected, "And yes, those are the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts."

"Aunt Minerva's picture isn't there yet, because she's still alive…so we hung our picture beneath Mr. Severus. So that her picture is up there too."

Hugo tugged on Ron's robe. "Auntie Merva…gave…puppy!"

Ron turned to Hermione mouthing, _puppy_? Hermione shrugged, but Rose elaborated. "She transfi…something to do with a pillow. And, then she turned it into a rabbit…"

Hugo's face split into a huge grin, head bobbing. "And then a bird."

"Can we go back and see Aunt Minerva, tomorrow?" Rose asked.

"No." Ron's voice cutting across the children's voices. "You will be going to Nana's and PeePaw's in the morning."

Rose and Hugo jumped up and down, "Yeah!" They said together, "But…when we come back mom…can we visit her?"

"That'll be up to Minerva, dear." Hermione stated, momentarily noting how jubilant her children's faces were after being with Minerva. "Now…give me hugs...and I'll see you next weekend." She said leaning down kissing Rose on the cheek as she picked up Hugo who wrapped his spindly arms around her neck, red hair falling across her cheek as he sloppily kissed his mom's lips.

"Bye, mum." He said, squiggling away.

Rose wrapped her arms around Hermione. "See you next weekend, mother."

"Be good for dad tonight, dears."

"We will…" Rose said taking Ron's hand as her father picked up Hugo in the other arm.

Ron paused beside Hermione, "I'll…uh, see you this next weekend." He stated, feeling a sense of finality permeating the air as he met her gaze.

She bit the top of her lip while nodding, tears beginning to pool at the corner of her eyes as she leaned forward and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. Their last kiss… "Good-bye, Ron."

"Good-bye, love." He replied, and then turned…and walked out of the room, the door to that part of her life, finally closing as the trail of tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Minerva flicked her eyes to where Hermione typically sat and sighed. It was apparent that Hermione would not be attending dinner, and sadly she believed she knew the cause – Mr. Ronald Weasley. It had been just over two hours since his arrival, and an hour and a half since Milksy had returned the children to Hermione's rooms. Gauging from the limited time she had remained and the duration after she had left, along with Hermione's absence at dinner, it would appear that their conversation did not go well at all.

"Minerva…" Pomona's voice along with her gentle touch on her leg, "Dear, have you heard anything I've just said?" Worry lacing her voice, "Do you need to see Poppy?"

"Yes, and no Pomona. I'm sorry I didn't seem attentive, however, rest assured…I did hear you. And…thank you very much for the endearment." She said, "However, I believe it only fitting that you pass that along to Percival and Audrey."

"Well if you think…"

Minerva continue to half heartedly listen to Pomona's words, nodding at all the right times, engaging when needing to, but her thoughts remained upon Hermione. She was concerned for her…her children, even Ronald. It was never easy on anyone when a marriage was dissolved, and rarely was any singular person at fault. Many times, there is no fault; people just grow apart…not intestinally, but it happens none the less.

The roast, potatoes, ham, corn…and the rest of the main course began vanishing, deserts replacing the entrees. Signaling a point where Minerva could leave, rather unobtrusively.

"You're leaving?" Filius asked as Minerva folded her napkin and set it upon her plate.

"I have a few matters to attend." She replied and backed her chair up.

Filius held her gaze for a moment more, before nodding and returning to his meal. Minerva smiled to Pomona who was sitting on her other side this evening, "Good night, Pomona."

"Minerva." She smiled in reply as she paused mid-helping of chocolate truffle soufflé. "Try and relax a bit this evening."

"Perhaps." Minerva stated standing, her walking stick palmed within her hand as she gracefully exited through the teacher's entrance. The door not even clicking shut, and she was already gone…and standing in front of Godric's picture. "Is Hermione within?"

Godric nodded, "She has not exited this afternoon." He slowly stood, "If you will give me but a moment, I shall ask…"

"Only if she is awake." Minerva stated, adjusting her weight upon her walking stick and which leg she was balancing upon.

Godric almost immediately reappeared, "She…" He stared at his former occupant of forty years, wanting to tell her, knowing he could trust her…but he was also bound to his new charge…and respecting her privacy. "Asked if you would call back, unless it pertains to Hogwarts business."

Minerva had known that Hermione's conversation with Ronald had not gone well…but she was momentarily stunned at Hermione's response. And she found herself at a crossroads, one she had not been at in years. To push and see Hermione through the guise of Hogwarts business or to wait until the morning.

Yes, she had known Hermione for almost twenty years, but knowing her and being friends with her were completely different. Sure, they were on their way to becoming friends, but to push and have their current interactions become strained...would not do well.

Not do well at all.

She could ill afford delays with Hermione's training…nor did she wish to create rumor within Hogwarts as to why Hermione and she were not talking…however…

She also knew that at some point Hermione would need to speak about what was happening in her personal life. It may very well not be her, but…it would be someone – other than a member of the Weasley family.

"Godric…" The cadence of Minerva's voice becoming thick, "I am here as the Headmistress…"

He gave a solitary nod, agreeing with her assessment before disappearing from the frame. A moment later, he returned and gave a wink to her as he settled within his frame, seeking comfort as Minerva heard the latch click, the door barely opening and she entered to the familiar study. A small fire burned in the grate, the lighting low, her eyes immediately noticing Hermione on the opposite side of the room, and even from this distance, Minerva could discern swollen eyes.

"What can I help you with Headmistress?" She asked, voice bordering on normal, except for the slight quake rippling through.

"My job as Headmistress not only extends to the school, and the students, but…this may surprise you, but it also incorporates the professors who work here too."

Hermione put up her hand, eyes closing as she swallowed hard. "…Minerva…" Her voice beginning to break as she re-opened her eyes. "I'm…not…I can't…"

"And I'm not asking you to, Hermione." Minerva stated sweeping into the study, "However, I believe you owe me a conclusion to our game of chess."

"I don't think…" Hermione stared at the woman as Minerva took one of the seats by the fire, leaning forward and whispering something…Milksy immediately appearing.

"Please bring the chessboard within my study here." Minerva stated just loud enough for Hermione to hear.

Milksy replied with a solitary nod and was gone and back before Hermione could say another word. The chessboard now resting on the table between the two chairs and small sofa that was nestled by the fireplace.

"I'd also love a cup of lemon tea." Minerva said to Milksy, still ignoring Hermione as her eyes swept over the board, obviously re-familiarizing herself with the game.

Milksy's ears bobbed, and yellow eyes turned to Hermione. "You'se likes anything?"

Hermione clamped her ljaw shut, shaking her head no as she walked toward the fireplace and Minerva. She couldn't hear the Headmistress' additional quiet words, but Milksy was gone in another flash…the fire crackling louder than her pop. She stepped around the chair, eyes still fixed upon the emerald clad witch. "Minerva…"

"I believe," Green eyes lifted to meet brown ones, "It was your turn."

Hermione stared at Minerva for two minutes, and only when Milksy re-appeared with a platter laden with a tea pot, two cups, biscuits, scones and ginger newts did Hermione finally take the seat opposite of the infernal woman. She would finish the game, not that she was in the mood, then Minerva would leave…and she could return to being alone – contemplating exactly where it went wrong with their marriage; why she married him; was there really someone whom could love her as she wished and wanted to be loved…

"Tea?" Minerva quietly asked as she poured her own cup.

Hermione's eyes snapped back into focus as she glanced up to Minerva and then sliding over to the tea pot. She really wasn't thirsty, but found herself nodding. A cup of warm tea, might help soothe her mind, she thought as her eyes returned to the board and she moved her bishop diagonally across the board.

The glow of candles had long since replaced the evening light, the fire softly crackling in the room as Minerva stared at the board. She was out of options to make the game last longer, without Hermione knowing she had been willingly sacrificing her pieces for the past two hours.

But…it had been worth it.

Little had been said, other than the occasional 'good move', type commentary between the two women or if one or the other could pass some tea, biscuits, or other snack. After a half hour of playing, Hermione had begun to watch the board and re-engage or rather focus on the game; and not whatever happened earlier in the afternoon. She also had begun to nibble on some of the food upon the tray…and as Minerva placed Hermione's king in check; she was happy to note that only two ginger newts remained beside what amounted to their second pot of tea.

"It appears that you…" Hermione scanned the board and lowered her king, "Will win in three moves if not less."

Minerva nodded. "It would seem." She placed her hands upon her knees, "And I do apologize for keeping you so long." She idly cast her eyes to the window, indicating it was indeed getting rather late outside. "I didn't realize how late it was." She lifted her hand, wand within her fingers, and with two flicks, the pieces jumped up as did the board and then they were gone.

"For some reason…" Hermione watched as Minerva's wand morphed back into her walking stick, "I don't think I shall believe you."

Minerva allowed the tiniest of smiles to curl her lips, touching even her eyes. "Perhaps, Hermione. But, never the less, I bid you good night." She said, standing.

Hermione stood too, "Minerva." She called out as the other woman stepped around the chair, head turning to face her. "Thanks for…keeping me company tonight. Even though, you could have beaten me close to an hour ago."

Emerald eyes merely twinkled in response, "There are times when it is important to be in another's company, it reminds us that no one is truly alone, Hermione. Though, perhaps, a rematch shall be in order – one in which both parties are paying, shall we say, better attention."

Hermione nodded, as the first genuine smile since before Ron's arrival came across her face. "I would like that, as long as you promise no quarter." She said, and at Minerva's quirked eyebrow, she continued on, "And thank you." Hermione felt her throat catch, "For earlier, with the children."

"You are welcome, Hermione. Some conversation should not be overheard, by anyone."

The color began draining from Hermione's face at Minerva's words. "How much…did you, they…" She hadn't thought of what would have precipitated Minerva to remove the children from her living room, as a flush of red instantly began to sweep over her now very pale skin.

"At the point of raised voices, just after his arrival, we took our leave. No one, including myself, heard your conversation, Hermione. You may rest easy."

Hermione barely felt herself nod, "Again…" She cleared her throat, trying to overcome her sudden fear and embarrassment that someone could have heard her and Ron's very personal conversation. Not…that she couldn't trust Minerva, she could. That wasn't it. It was just...personal, deeply personal. It was not something she would share with another person... "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it." Minerva said turning her head back around and walking to the door, her walking stick and boots clicking across the floor. "And Hermione." She paused, in front of the doorway, eyes momentarily flickering back to the other witch. "You have lovely children, and despite what is going on between you and Ronald; know that he does love you very much. Never doubt that, it shows within his eyes. But love alone cannot sustain a relationship, no matter how strong. A relationship takes more and is more. And ultimately, it is healthier for all persons involved if they realize this and move on with their lives so both people have the opportunity to be happy especially if their relationship doesn't provide joy. Because, if you love someone, that's part of what it is – that the person you love is happy. Good night, Hermione."

And before Hermione could respond, Minerva was stepping into the hallway…and gone.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: And so the chess matches continue ;) Sorry in advance for there will not be an update next Friday; as I'll be out of town for a wedding. Though when we do rejoin our characters on the 16__th__, we will skip ahead to Tuesday October 20__th__, 2009. Hope you enjoyed and see you in 2 weeks._


	24. Chapter 23 October 20th, 2009

A/N: An early Friday present – will try to get another chapter up this coming weekend. Grab a drink and get just a wee bit comfortable before settling down to read, it's a tad long; I thoroughly hope you enjoy!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

**Chapter 23 ~ October 20****th**** 2009 (Tuesday)**

Minerva paused as she exited Flourish and Blotts as her eyes landed upon the last persons she thought she would see gracing the streets of Diagon Alley. Rory Wallace. He was wearing his ceremonial kilt, his ornate leather sporran, with matching leather sandals with wrapped the straps around his ankle tying at the back of his calf with a crisp long white sleeved shirt, gold cuff links with deep blue sapphires embedded in the center…all in all…if she didn't know better, she would have thought that he was attending a formal event. Except…she was invited to the same events he was and she knew there wasn't anything formal on the calendar until the Ministry Ball just after the end of term.

"Rory." Minerva voice cutting across the throng of people, and his head immediately jerked towards her voice shock written upon his face.

Grey eyes landed upon the all too familiar form of Minerva McGonagall. "Minerva," He veered his course, "What are you…" Gaze momentarily reverting to the shop behind her and then back. "Doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She said, noting how he was being pre-emptive which she immediately turned back upon him. "And," Her voice dropped exponentially as he stopped next to her, "I could also inquire why you look as you do and is that...Dylien?" She inquired, noting the swirl of musk, oak and nutmeg that permeated her senses.

"And your olfactory senses are as keen as old. Yes, I am wearing Dylien…and as such…am dusting off my dress kilt." His eyes twinkling. "And besides, I thought I cleaned up rather well."

Minerva leaned over, gently kissing his cheek. "You did and do." She said, tucking her arm around his, "Have you eaten this morning?" She asked as they began to walk down the street.

"I…ugh…" He stammered, causing Minerva to turn her head slightly, brow quirked. "No." He finally relented.

"Who…" She paused, turning him to her. "Rory," Emerald eyes scanning his grey ones, "Has someone finally caught those steamy grey eyes of yours?" They stared into each others' eyes for a long moment… "You have." Minerva feeling her heart warm at what she saw, as a film of tears covered her eyes. "Who is he?"

"For the interim, how about I merely say a proprietor within the alley." He said, gently reaching up with his knuckles to brush across her cheek. "But I am unsure as to his preference, shall we say."

"And today," She fingered his collar, hand moving to his chest as she patted it, her smile remaining within her eyes. "Is a test to see whether his gaze strays along your figure?"

He reached up, picking up her smaller hand within his…bringing it to his lips. "Perhaps." He whispered against her finger tips before tucking her hand again within the crook of his arm, "Now, what of you? To be out of Hogwarts at this hour on a weekday, it is uncommon even at the most common times."

"Yes, I had to pick up a book." She casually replied.

"And they could not deliver it?" He rebuked as they began ambling again.

"I'm afraid, dear friend that as you wish to remain ambivalent regarding some matters, so do I."

"Touché." He stated, "Perhaps a different topic then." He motioned to the small café ~ Tanner's Tea. "Over a croissant and tea?"

"Sounds lovely." She said, leaning into his arm.

"How is your hip fairing these days?" He inquired, noticing that her gait was becoming disproportionate.

"It seems to be growing proportionally weaker in conjunction with my waning magic." She said as he pulled out a chair for her at the outer tables along the café.

"Minerva, why did ya never tell me?" He asked as he pulled his own chair to the table, sitting opposite of her. Eyes piercing hers, "Is it the bond?"

She gave a solitary nod, turning her eyes to the server who approached. She smiled at the young man, recognizing him from 2007's Hogwarts class. "Andrew, it is good to see you."

"Headmistress." The young man nodded in respect to the elder witch, "A rare pleasure. What can I get you and your friend today?"

"I'd like a cup of chamomile tea, and a lemon tart."

"Coffee, black and a croissant."

Andrew nodded, "It'll be right out. Ma'am." He stated with respect and with a swish of robes, he was gone.

"I'm still bound to Albus." Minerva replied to Rory's earlier statement.

"Is that even possible?" He leaned forward, "And what of your mutual bond with Hogwarts. I thought that…" His words shifted as their tray arrived, "And you will be attending the Ministry ball this coming fall?"

"Thank you, Andrew." Minerva said turning her attention back to Rory, "I was planning on it. And you?" She inquired as Andrew placed their drinks and Danish in front of each.

"I thought I'd come down from the high country and make a point of attending this year. Thank you." He stated to the young wizard just before he left the area, Rory subtly casting a silencing charm upon their table and the rest of their conversation. "I thought your bond to Hogwarts dissolved the bond between you and Albus?"

With aching slowness, she shook her head. "No. It merely sustained and continues to sustain my life."

"But how can you still be bound to a man beyond the veil?"

With a quick wave of her hand, she then faced it palm up…three colors burst from the center of her hand. A band of emerald green, her magical signature; a faint thread of azure blue wrapped around the outer layer of emerald, the color of Albus' signature; and a band of purple right next to the other two, turning into alabaster as it stretched out from her hand – the purple indicating the bond between Albus and Minerva; and the alabaster indicating the bond of Hogwarts. "It matters not. Only that I am."

"Your bond to Albus…" He began to realize how truly daft he had been all these years in assuming that she had been freed of her bond to Albus. "It's still killing you."

"My bond to Albus has been slowly draining my magic."

"But that won't kill you."

"No, but Hogwarts magic will."

He took another sip of coffee, "I don't understand, sis. I thought you said Hogwarts was sustaining you."

"It is, but it will also kill me."

"Will ya cut through the fog this once, and let me in?"

She twirled her cup around within her hands, eyes peering deeply into the liquid as she pondered his words. She was out of time. And someone needed to know, someone other than herself. Yes, Helena knew much…but not all. "I…"

"After all these years, do na tell me…ya dunno trust me."

She reached over, laying her hand a top of his. "It has nothing to do with trust, love."

"Then what…?"

"I shall tell you, but promise that you will not seek to find a way to save me."

"Minerva," His face looked aghast. "You canna expect me to just…" His eyes began to mist over, "Let ya die."

"Yes, Rory. That is exactly what I expect you to do."

Her words had robbed the very breath from his lungs as a tear fell from his left eye. "I canna promise that, Minerva. You are my sister; if not in name than in deed, love. I can no more watch you die, than asking you to have left Derrick to his fate all those years ago."

"This is different, Rory."

"No, love. It isn't."

"I'm tired Rory." She said, breaking off another piece of her tart. "And when this is over, I hope to be reunited with Albus."

"But surely he isn't still there, waiting."

"He is bound and like me…forced to be between two worlds. I between this and the crossroads. He, between the crossroads and death."

"How do you know of this?"

She took a sip of tea, washing the lemon from her mouth. "His portrait…is laced with his essence, it lives on through my bond."

"Does Helena know?"

She shook her head, "No one does. But that is why he seems so life like, more animated than even the other portraits and able to communicate as if still alive – however, he is two-dimensional, a shadow of his former self. Much like I am becoming…" Her voice fading away, tears now threatening her own eyes. "And what I would like to become, Rory. A memory…who has finally found peace."

"How long do you have?"

"Do I have your word?"

Rory felt his heart jump into his throat at her question, one he had hoped to forestall… "Please, love, do not ask this."

"And you cannot ask me to continue living a life that is punctuated by sorrow, pain, and heartache with a smidgen of joy and a love that is trapped beyond the veil, waiting."

"I shall not seek a way to save you…if a way presents itself, I will take it. But…" He held up his hand to stave off her interruption, "Only if it will save you and break the bond to Albus; freeing him as well. For, he would want you to live, the miracle that should never have happened, _your _life. Even if that meant that you would never see each other again. But, you would be free of your bond, and perhaps…you would find that which you miss most…love."

"And you do not?"

"I believe you and I are the same…and different. Derrick was killed, and as difficult as that was to live through, I was able to grieve. It took years, but I was able to move on…slowly begin to rebuild the shattered remnants that made up my life." He paused, thinking back to those dreaded months. "You and Albus were invaluable, as was Nicolas and Pernelle, and the children...too. I have sought comfort on occasion in another's embrace, but I have yet to find that which was taken…" A glint light across his face, "Though I am hopeful…and believe I may have finally found someone, at least someone worthy of taking the risk again. But, you, my dear…have never had the opportunity to grieve. You buried Albus, your bond…should have killed you, but you lived which happened to be long enough to bury a second child…and during all this time, you have remained bound somehow to Albus…keeping a piece of his essence here, tied to you – not enabling you grieve. Because, he's still here. He's still with you. You can speak with him…even if he is a shadow of himself. And you can't…and haven't been able to move on with your life because of it."

"I don't _want_ to move on with my life, Rory." A thin trail of tears now ran down her cheeks as her eyes drilled into his, "Nor did I _want _to live after his death. I do, however, _want _to join him – after Johannes has been killed or permanently detained."

"But…" He pulled her hand within his, "How do you know you couldn't love someone else?"

"And it's been over thirty years since Derrick's death, and you speak of falling in love a second time. Rory…how can you…"

"Because, I think love is precious and I hope for not only my sake…but yours as well, love…that there is another person who is just as precious in our lives as Derrick and Albus were."

Minerva's eyes dropped down to the table, "I don't want another, Rory." Her voice was soft, barely reaching his ears. "That is why I bound myself to the one I loved," She raised her gaze upward to his. "So I wouldn't have to." The sadness and heartache vanished from her emerald eyes as she peered into his, "Nor do I want to. Your word, Rory."

"You have it." He finally conceded, not able to hold out any longer against his formidable sister.

Over the next hours the two spoke in depth of her predicament. How Hogwarts magic would kill her once the buffer of her magic was gone; she for all intents and purposes becoming a squib until Hogwarts magic would destroy her body. She also went on to describe how she would have to sever her bond with Hogwarts after Johannes' death…as she could not be bound to Hogwarts and die.

Rory listened with a deft ear, asking for clarification across many areas. Making sure he didn't make the mistake he had made fourteen years ago; by assuming her bond to Albus had been dissolved.

"I have but one remaining question for you, dear." He said swirling the last of his third cup of coffee across the bottom.

Minerva steeled herself, knowing that he never asked the easiest questions last. "I'll hold my breath," She lifted her tea cup, "After my sip of tea."

He chuckled at her dry wit, waiting until she raised the cup to her lips to ask his question, "It makes me more than a little curious as to what was contained within the letter Hermione sent you the summer after Albus and Esmerele's death."

Somehow Minerva managed not to choke on her tea, "Excuse me?"

"The letter Hermione sent, what did it contain?"

It took every ounce of willpower not to flinch at his question. A _very _personal question. One that only the man across the table knew even existed… "Rory, I don't…"

"Love, I wouldn't ask, but something was said or asked that caused you to finally start living again. Something that not another soul had been able to accomplish, even your children, and after everything I have heard today, I would like to know what it was."

"Only after you tell me the proprietor whose perked your interest."

"Minerva, that is personal…"

"As is mine…" She said meeting his steely grey eyes, "Call it my animagus' curious nature."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hermione pulled the ribbon from the package her parents had sent her, a smile already upon her face as the brown paper slipped away to reveal a large thin box which had a computer emblem on the side. Her laptop had arrived. Atop the thin box was another box; tied to the laptop one. With a flick of her wand, the ribbing fell away and Hermione pulled the box to her and opened it. Inside was the Rosettastone package along with a plate of cookies and a note taped to the cellophane.

_H ~_

Hope this finds you well. We are sorry for the delay in its arrival; however, your father never likes anything that is factory standard. He said something about having the processing speed increased. I have no idea; but it should be more than adequate for what you need. The kids and I thought you could use some home-baked goodies.

_Love_

_Mom & ROSE_

_H U GO_

Hermione laughed at how Hugo had spelled his name. All the letters were there, intact and in the correct order however, their size and spacing still needed a lot of work. She banished the parcel and all of its contents, save for the plate of cookies, to her room. She would start the laptop later and see if she could still operate one. She also had the small problem she would need to speak with Milksy about, electricity. Otherwise, the whole plan was for naught.

Hermione pulled the letter she had received this morning from her inside pocket of her robes and knew before slitting the seal from the penmanship that it was from Angelina.

They had gone out to lunch Saturday at Rosmerta's after the Order meeting and had been trading letters daily since then. Hermione hadn't been able to stay long, as she had to be back before 1pm; as there was a Head of House meeting to go over the final schedule and the Professors' expectations for this year's quidditch season.

She and Angelina had a pleasant conversation and rather re-freshing. She had spoken about the children, but it wasn't as though that had been the focus of her morning. Instead, it was a part of it; and they had shared stories. Angelina's had focused upon her recent auror missions and Hermione's regarding the duels at the Simmons, Hogwarts, and the whole situation at Wilhemenia's. The rumors flying across the Ministry regarding the situation; and how Shacklebolt was beginning to lose favor amongst several of the Ministry divisions.

Angelina had left Hermione with a 'coin' that was now a common theme within the Ministry. Apparently, it could be purchased at Weasley's Wheezies. On one side it had the emblem of the Ministry; the other the faces of the previous Ministers and one of the current Minister; beneath his always timed the word ~ fool. Hermione laughed outright at the phrase; knowing that the coin's inception had been started because of a duel, some lose change, and the Minister seeking answers to questions better left unasked.

Slitting the seal to the letter, Hermione uncoiled the parchment.

_Hermione ~_

Yes, I read the article in the Prophet, but I still fail to see the relevance. Are you sure you are not seeking additional clues where none are to be had? Nigil Netters was not a Professor at Hogwarts; and his death, while tragic, has been ruled accidental. I don't see how this points to additional proof that his death was caused by Johannes. The only ambiguity surrounding his death is how the spell backfired or rather ricocheted off the platinum and killed him. But, even the scorch marks across the metal are consistent with the burn pattern of Nigil's body. When re-creating the last spell from his wand; it was evident what spell had been cast.

_How are the students fairing? Are they paying any attention to what is transpiring outside of the Hogwarts or do they remain ensconced in the world of Hogwarts like we typically did?_

_It almost makes one wish to be a child again. To play quidditch, listen to Binns drone on about the History of Magic, and the largest aspect we had to worry about was how long our Transfiguration Essay was going to be for our next class. It usually ended up being two foot longer than I ever wanted it to be._

_We were called out on another wild chase last evening. It turned out to be a muggle, who had been charmed to appear as a walking apparition. The only problem was, he actually could walk through walls, even after the charm had been lifted. As peculiar as that was; when found, he had two hand sketched drawings on a yellow piece of paper clutched within his hand. One appeared to be located along the sea, on cliffs, overlooking the ocean; the other, a startling replica of the outside of McGonagall Manor. When asked if he knew what those represented, he had no response, only blinking back with a vacant stare. Upon further questioning, he had no idea where he had been nor where he was going. However, he had been rather startled to find out that almost four days had passed since he last remembered._

_Harry spoke with the Headmistress last evening, and she had no idea what the second picture represented or why the man had a rendition of the Manor. I don't think I believe our esteemed Headmistress; as I'm inclined to believe she knows whose property the first drawing belongs to. I suppose we will see if she brings it up at the Order meeting. _

_How are you doing? You had mentioned that you were waiting on a package from your parents. Has it arrived? And are you going to settle my curiosity and tell me what you are waiting on? I'm sure it has something to do with your curriculum at Hogwarts; you seem to be settling in at Hogwarts quite well._

_I bid you a good day, and hope not too many of the students have received care packages that contain George's product line. Although, hearing your stories about how the students try to use the candies to skive off class and how the Professors' handle the situation is rather humorous._

_Angelina_

Hermione re-read the part about the muggle man a second time, wondering whether Minerva did know of the house upon the cliffs. And why wouldn't she have said something. Unless she knew what the man had been after. But then why hadn't Minerva said anything to her.

And then there was the whole situation surrounding Nigil Netters. Hermione was sure that Netters death was tied to Johannes. She just needed to speak with Minerva…who for the last several days had been absent from Hogwarts. It reminded Hermione of Voldemort days, and how Dumbledore used to disappear for days or perhaps even weeks at time, save for meals. Which, the current Headmistress was just as adept. She would be unavailable for the bulk of the day, barring an emergency and then mystically appear at meals, sitting in her seat casually talking to Filius and whoever was seated next to her on her left.

Hermione sighed, she didn't know whether Minerva would be practicing with her this evening or not and therefore, would have to make the time to see her this evening after practice; no matter how tired she was after.

She had been practicing with Neville for the past eight days, ever day. They had been spending a minimum of two hours; the last three nights they had spent closer to four. Despite her aching feet; she had truly been enjoying herself.

She had been mastering the waltz. And last night, she had been able to waltz around the room in Neville's arms; blindfolded and without causing either of them to stumble. Granted, neither had ventured into some of the more daring moves; but it had been a monumental feat regardless.

After they finished last night, they had decided they would turn their attention to another dance this evening; and Hermione found herself looking forward to it. She recalled last Monday evening, after they had spent two hours going over the basic steps…

_"No, really, Hermione." Neville said, enthusiasm littering his voice. "You are doing marvelous."_

_"I've stepped on your feet six times."_

_A grin broke across his face, "I know. I felt each one of them."_

_Hermione laughed, "I'm sorry."_

_"Which you already said at least a half dozen times for each instance. Stop worrying about it. You are catching on and will be a master in no time."_

_"Neville, I don't think…"_

_"Trust me, Hermione. I know what I'm talking about. The Headmistress was right, you have an innate skill."_

_Hermione frowned, she hadn't asked why Neville was here versus Minerva, merely thought it dealt with the fact that Minerva would probably be mildly uncomfortable to be dancing around the room with a woman. Though, she rebuked her own thought line immediately upon recalling the training for the Yule ball. "I was going to ask why you are here?"_

_"Minerva had stated that you were interested in learning how to dance and asked if I would be willing to assist. She said she might interject a few times, something to do with movement. Anyways, I thought it would be fun. Luna and I hardly get to dance, and truthfully, she doesn't like to near as much as I."_

_"I'm sure you both dance far more than Ron and I ever did."_

_"Yes, but…" He twirled Hermione around, "Never as much as I would have liked." Pulling her to a stop, "I had always wished, and still do." A wisp of a smile curling up the corner of his face. "That I would be like Brian and Katherine McDore."_

_"Who?" Hermione asked, a frown upon her face as she stared at the taller man._

_"Surely you know of the McDores." He stated disbelievingly._

_She stared at him, shocked. McDores. As in Minerva and Albus? There was no way, she shook her head, "No. Who are they?"_

_Neville paused, thinking back and realizing that perhaps Hermione didn't know nor had little exposure to the McDores. After all, she was not of the wizarding world. "They were a husband and wife team who could dance as well as…" His animated hands stopped as he thought of an analogy. "The Headmistress performs transfiguration. My Gran took me to see a performance the summer after the Tri-Wizard tournament. They were beautiful to watch." _

_Hermione thought back to the summer after their fourth year. The summer that the Daily Prophet persecuted Harry and Dumbledore; one for stating that Voldemort had returned; and one for publicly supporting the other's statement._

_"It was like nothing I had ever seen before. They moved as one, fluid…where he ended, she began and vice versa. They held the wizarding formal dancing title for over a decade straight and numerous muggle ones too."_

_Brows furrowed together as she thought back, "Then why have I never heard of them?"_

_"According to Gran, they had begun limiting their competitions the year after we started at Hogwarts and their last public performance was over the holidays of our sixth year. "_

_"But surely there would have been something written about them over the years."_

_"No." Neville said giving her his arm, "Brian was killed the following summer."_

_"Brian?" She asked as they came to the edge of the Room of Requirement._

_"Yes. Brian McDore and his wife Katherine."_

_"Do you know how he died?" Hermione asked pausing as the doors opened._

_"I think it had to deal with the war." He shrugged, "With everything else going on; I don't remember. That was the summer…"_

_"Dumbledore died; Harry, Ron and I left; Bill and Fluer got married and then there was Voldemort." Hermione finished._

_Neville nodded, "Yeah to name a few."_

_"I'll have to look them up." Hermione stated as they left the Room of Requirement, wondering if the McDores were actually Minerva and Dumbledore. Surely, they couldn't be...could they? Besides, she went through forty years of Daily Prophets, and would have recognized them…wouldn't she have?_

Folding her letter back up from Angelina, she would answer the letter this afternoon; after her last class and before dinner and the commencement of her training. Her mind drifting completely from the letter to what she and Neville would be dancing to this evening. She could hardly wait, well…her feet could; she thought as she prepared for her third year class that would be arriving shortly.

_XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOOXOX_

Minerva walked through the double oak doors of Hogwarts, tired. It had been a long afternoon at the Ministry, and despite her fatigue it was well past time for her to work with Hermione. She knew that Hermione's training had been delayed the past few days by her own lack of interaction, but by the time dinner ended the last week, it was everything for Minerva to make it back to her chambers before passing out from exhaustion.

And tonight, she knew would be no different if she didn't take another potion to keep her moving. She nodded to Stephen Walters as the young Hufflepuff walked ahead of her and into the Great Hall, she following suite.

Normally, she would walk around, use the professor's entrance, but the extra hundred steps just weren't in her. She could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes land upon her form as she limped up the Great Hall, including those of her professors. Eyes that held far more questions than her students, questions she would have to make the time to answer.

"Good evening." Minerva stated to the throng of professors already dishing out their meals, for she had called for dinner as soon as her feet had landed upon the grounds.

"Headmistress." "Good evening." Several chorused together.

"Minerva." Sinistra's voice causing the Headmistress to pause on her way to her seat.

"Sinistra."

"Will you be available this evening to meet with?"

Minerva meet the other woman's gaze, knowing full well that she wished to talk about updating the scopes on the tower. Sinistra had already submitted a report on Friday, and Minerva hadn't had the energy in the evening to meet with her on the subject. "I'm afraid not, Sinistra. However, if you could meet me after breakfast, I am not due to St. Mungos until ten."

Hermione hadn't meant to be listening, but Minerva was less than five feet away talking to the professor on her left. She felt bad for listening in, but she had wished to speak with Minerva this evening too. And now, it seemed that she would be getting up early. Very early, and see if Minerva would meet with her prior to breakfast.

"St. Mungos?" Worry lacing Sinistra's voice, and Hermione couldn't help but share in the feeling.

"It is for my hip; nothing more." She stated, eyes briefly meeting Hermione's chocolate ones before taking the handful of steps to her chair and easing her weary body into it. "Filius, Pomona." She said to the man and woman on either side.

They both turned, "Minerva."

"Dear, you look positively exhausted." Pomona stated as Filius poured a second glass of pumpkin juice for Minerva.

"The issue with the muggle man has the auror department on edge."

"It very well should." Pomona stated as she cut into her roast beef. "And it should concern you equally as much too." Her knife skewered the beef, "A picture of the Ridge, really Minerva."

Minerva's eyes remained fixed upon Pomona's plate, "Perhaps it is you I should send after Johannes."

"This is serious Minerva." Pomona said face beginning to turn red at her dear friend who was seemingly taking the whole situation rather casually. Pomona's voice dropping so only Minerva and perhaps Filius could hear her comment. "He sent out people to try and locate your homes."

"Yes, he did. Meaning…" She reached over and scooped a helping of beans and mash. "That he is running out of options."

"I don't like this either, Minerva." Filius chimed in as he cast a charm around the three of them. "Desperation is not an attribute that one wishes to fight against, because a lot of innocents tend to get hurt in the process."

"Like my daughter." Minerva stated, drilling Filius with her piercing gaze as her voice dropped. "I have no wish for his desperate actions, Filius. The secret keeper is not one, anyone would expect, so I am comfortable that he will not find the Ridge or the Manor. Which explains why he has blanked the minds of muggles or perhaps even wizards to search for a home that appears as the drawing; he hopes luck will shine favorably upon his search as he knew where they once stood. My greater concern is of who he will seek out next, whether it is current professors or past ones; or your families."

"Surely, Minerva, you don't think he would go after our families." Filius' voice becoming grave as the color drained from Pomona's face.

"I have sent numerous letters out to retired professors and though most have written back; some have not. I fear his first course of action will be to seek out those who no longer are protected within the walls, and then the families."

"You must tell the other professors." Filius stated concern leeching across his face.

"All I have is supposition Filius," She slowly reached out and grasped her juice, "And the last thing I want to do is panic the staff until I know the threat is real."

Filius met the Headmistress' gaze, and though he knew she was correct, the notion that their families could be at risk froze his soul. "When…" He cleared his throat to stabilize his voice, "Do you think you'll know?"

"After Thursday." She said taking a sip, and then setting it down. "And before anyone is hurt. Now, relax. We have a third of the school watching our debate, including all of the professors. I will speak of this with you in the morning." And with a subtle wave of her hand, the spell surrounding them dissipated, but her words still rung through the air and the worry remained.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Hermione walked down the fourth floor corridor, stopping in front of wall mid-section as a green door appeared. Without thought, she turned the handle, fully expecting to see Neville adjusting his shoes and was rather surprised to see Minerva standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed in front of her – waiting.

"Good evening, Hermione." Minerva stated as their eyes met. "I hope you don't mind, but I will be your partner this evening." She said as soft strings of music began wafting through the air.

"I…ah," Hermione pulled the door close as she gathered her thoughts, _so much for a new dance_. "Have learned the fundamentals of the waltz."

Minerva gave her a tilt of the head, "I have no doubt," She extended her hand outward to the center of the large ballroom floor. "As Neville takes his dancing as serious as Herbology and is equally as careful in how he teaches."

Hermione couldn't stop the smile from tugging at the corners of her mouth. Minerva may be blunt at times regarding people, but often times her commentary was truer than people cared to admit and rather comical. "He has been an excellent teacher." She stated as she walked beside Minerva, noticing the limp within the other woman's gate.

"I should hope so." Minerva drew to a stop, her stick morphing back into her wand, which she banished from sight. "Or this evening will be far longer than I believe either of us have time for."

Hermione's brow furloughed at Minerva's comment. "I don't…" She shook her head, "Follow."

Minerva took off her hat, before meeting Hermione's gaze. "We are not leaving here this evening until you are able to detect my movements as we dance. So, I should hope…that you have the fundamentals or the evening may be a bit longer than I'm sure you had intended."

Hermione felt all of the saliva within her mouth vanish in a heartbeat. "Isn't that a bit…excessive?"

"I should have done this last Friday, and I apologize." Her hat vanished from her hand, "For I have been too tired after my return to Hogwarts, but we _must _begin to work on the dynamics of how to _see_ what I see."

Hermione felt her eyes drop to Minerva's slightly stilted leg stance, "And are you able to dance now? When you were walking…"

Minerva interrupted Hermione's statement, "I have been walking more than I would have liked for what we are about to do, but if I wait for an optimal time, you will undoubtedly have just turned fifty and I will be too old to move as we are about to."

"I doubt you'll ever be that old Minerva." Hermione rebuked.

"If only that were true." Minerva smiled in response, "Now." She reached out, Hermione taking Minerva's right hand as they both positioned their left ones; one upon the ribcage just beneath the breast; the other wrapped around the shoulder – fingers splayed out across the joint. "We begin."

Hermione didn't have time to think as Minerva immediately stepped in time with the music, Hermione stepping in time with Minerva. Neither woman spoke as they moved about the dance floor, in simple yet fluid steps. After several minutes, Hermione quickly discerned that Neville and Minerva were far different in their movements.

Neville was rigid, following the construct of the form throughout his movements…making them precise, measured, easily detectable and able to follow. Whereas Minerva flowed to the music. Her movements were measured, but they were done with ease as if she were merely striding across the room. They were done without thought, and…unlike Neville's rigid body, Minerva's seemed to molt as they moved. A subtle dip synched with the music or an extra step between her others that fit within the beat. All in all, after another minute of twirling about the floor in Minerva's arms, she realized that Minerva was an excellent dancer. "You dance, marvelously." Hermione stated as Minerva drew them to a stop as the song ended.

"It has been some years, but thank you." Minerva replied as her hands fell from the younger woman, her left one dropping to her hip. "And you have learned quickly."

Hermione followed Minerva's hand. "Are you sure…" She nodded to Minerva's hip. "You're alright?"

"As long as I don't dance all night, it will only be uncomfortable, nothing more." She feigned a smile, "Now." She whispered a word, and a long strip of black cloth appeared in hand draping on either side from her palm. "If you would be so kind and tie this."

Hermione took the cloth, frowning. "What…are we doing?"

"We are going to waltz, Hermione." She said a twinkle within her eyes. "However, unlike the box you are use to, we will be changing directions and not remaining within the simple up, left, back, right combination."

"And you wish to have your feet stepped on how many times?" Hermione asked disbelieving.

"We shall see." Minerva said and gave Hermione a nod. "However, as we dance across the floor our left arms shall be reversed. Your hand will rest upon my waist, my hand upon your shoulders…"

"I don't understand…"

"The movement of a person's torso is often important to detecting how a person moves. We'll take a few twirls about the floor, and then begin having you say where we are moving by the movements of my waist. You should be able to tell prior to me leading you that way through our footwork and arm movement."

"And the blindfold."

"You need to learnt to understand how the body moves, before permitting your eyes to see."

Hermione reached up and tied the cloth across her eyes. She waited for a moment, blinking into nothingness. "I'm sorry in advance for all the times I will step on your toes."

Minerva chuckled as she reached outward and grasped Hermione's left hand and placed it upon her ribs. "We'll see, dear." She said.

Hermione felt a smile cross her own face at Minerva's residual chuckle, as she could feel the slight shake of her ribs against the tips of her fingers. "You sound rather sure that I won't."

"It's not that you won't," Minerva slipped her hand within Hermione's and her left one she draped over Hermione's shoulder. "But my feet hope that you miss."

Hermione responded with her own light chuckle, "I promise to try."

"That is all I ask." Minerva said as she listened to the faint strains of music. "Just state if you believe we are going to the left, right, forward or back."

"Sounds easy enough." Hermione said as Minerva began to move.

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

A half hour later, a frustrated woman tore the blindfold from her eyes. "I can't do this."

"You almost had it, Hermione." Minerva calmly replied.

"Almost does not equate to having it." Frustration eking through her veins, "And how do you expect me to be able to tell the difference?"

Minerva sighed, knowing that the awkwardness between them was the cause. Hermione's hand would begin against her ribs, but after a few turns, only the tips of her fingers remained. "I am sorry for any awkwardness, Hermione, however for you to learn this lesson, I need you to momentarily forget that I am a woman Hermione and leave your hand upon my waist for more than two turns."

Part of what Minerva stated was true, but it also stemmed from the notion that Hermione's hand could potentially slip or land upon Minerva's breast, and she felt as though she would die from embarrassment for something like that to happen. "I…will try. But I don't see what how that's the cause. I can tell where you are going just as easily with the tips of my fingers versus my entire hand."

Minerva shook her head, "No, you cannot." She reached out and placed Hermione's hand across her waist and took a step to the left. "Do you feel how the muscles in my back pull along my side as do my abdominal ones?"

"Yes." Hermione easily replied.

Minerva then adjusted Hermione's hand, so that only the tips of her fingers graced her side before moving. "How much did you feel in comparison?"

Hermione had barely felt the movement only that Minerva's side pulled away from the tips of her fingers and stated as much to Minerva.

Minerva went on to explain that it boiled down to the surface area that Hermione could feel in this instance or later, how much surface area she could see. "Are you ready to begin again?"

Hermione took a long stilling breath before re-tying the knot in the blindfold across the back of her head…her hand firmly affixed to Minerva's waist as they began again.

Minerva drew them to a stop, a smile lighting her face as she stared down at the younger woman. They had been at it for another hour, and although her hip pulsed in agony, she was very pleased with how Hermione had done. "Well done, dear."

Hermione reached back, pulling the blindfold from her eyes. "And I didn't step upon your toes once." She said meeting emerald eyes.

"And for that I am thankful." Minerva took a step back. "Again, well done."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know how I didn't understand what you were referring to before." She twirled around, feeling momentarily light as a feather. "It's so clear, now."

"Most knowledge is in retrospect." Minerva said watching as Hermione chuckled.

"And…" Hermione stopped and turned back to Minerva, "Tomorrow we'll begin to apply this to dueling?"

Minerva nodded Hermione's enthusiasm contagious as her own smile remained upon her face. "Yes. With a bit of dancing interspersed so you will be able to understand what areas to look for."

"What dance?" Hermione said pouring herself and Minerva a glass of whisky that was set upon the table over an hour ago. They had both drank two tumblers full already as Hermione brought Minerva the glass.

"We'll remain with the waltz." Minerva replied as she took the glass from the other witch.

"Good." Hermione took a sip, "I believe I'm finally getting comfortable with it."

"Yes," Minerva turned to Hermione, "You are."

"And you." Hermione met Minerva's gaze. "Do not dance like Neville, but are far more comfortable in your movements. You and Albus must have danced quite often."

"We had a lot of practice." Minerva's gaze become momentarily unfocused as she thought back to a time when they would move as silk across the floor.

Hermione watched as Minerva's gaze turned wistful. "It shows."

Minerva downed the last of her drink, enjoying the burn as it slid down the back of her throat. "Thank you." She paused as she banished her glass, turning to Hermione. "But I believe one more dance should be enough and we should be able to call it a night."

Hermione finished the last of her glass, the rich liquid sliding smoothly down her palate. She had never been one for liquor, but the McGonagall labeled scotch was better than anything she had tried before. She was going to have to find what the consumer's label was so she could begin to buy it herself. "I don't believe I'll make one mistake this time." Hermione said, banishing her own glass to the table as she summoned the blindfold.

"I doubt you will, Hermione." She replied as Hermione went to tie the strip of cloth over her eyes, "And forgo the cloth, just close your eyes."

The cloth appeared next to the two glasses, "Alright." She stated, easily placing her hand upon Minerva's waist.

Minerva slipped hers within Hermione's as she softly whispered, "Close your eyes."

Hermione's brown eyes briefly darted to Minerva's…green and brown meeting for a moment before her chocolate ones were obscured by the lids of her eyes. "Ready."

The strands of music washed over Minerva, and they began to dance. Hermione randomly and accurately calling out which direction Minerva would move them. Minerva forcing her mind away from the pain within her hip, focusing on the music as her own eyes closed.

Minerva could still feel the hesitancy of the woman held within her arms as they moved, making their movements imperceptibly stilted. "Relax." Minerva said as she unconsciously twirled Hermione around, her mind momentarily drifting to another time and place…

OXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Hermione felt Minerva's arms marginally slacken as she whispered the word, _Relax_, before spinning her away from Minerva…and as her hand found Minerva's waist, she felt an imperceptible difference in the woman's arms twirling her about the floor. And she couldn't help but listen to Minerva's quiet word, as her own muscles relaxed. As she spun around the floor, she found herself no longer calling out where they were going, but enjoying the feeling of floor flowing beneath their feet as they danced in time to the music.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

As the last strands of music died away, she opened her eyes to see Hermione Granger's body arched backward, her hand beneath the other woman's back supporting her…head tipped back…hair brushing the edge of the floor. In one fluid movement, Minerva brought Hermione to her feet, hands falling away from the young woman's body. "I'm sorry, I…" Minerva already silently berating herself for letting her guard down. It had been a combination of the alcohol, exhaustion, and the exhilaration of dancing…

Hermione smiled, "Don't." She said, shaking her head, "That was…" She paused as she stared at the other witch. "I've never danced with anyone like that before."

"I shouldn't have…"

"Let yourself go? Where were you?" She chuckled at Minerva's incredulous gaze, "Because you weren't here, your eyes were closed and a part of you was somewhere else."

Minerva could feel the color rising in her cheeks as she stared at Hermione, pulling her wand from her robes. "For a moment," She paused as her wand morphed into her walking stick, and she debated on whether to tell Hermione the truth. "I let myself believe I was dancing with Albus."

Hermione reached out, gently touching Minerva's face to tilt it upwards ever so much to enable her to meet the other woman's emerald eyes. "Thank you for trusting me enough to let go."

Minerva's embarrassment waned at the warmth emitting from Hermione's eyes. "Thank you for the dance."

Hermione's hand fell away, "Perhaps, you will find someone to dance with like that again in the future."

Minerva's voice was soft as she replied, "And perhaps you will too." Their eyes momentarily locked, before Minerva stepped away. "Thank you again." She began walking towards the exit, Hermione stepping along beside her.

"How long did it take you to stop missing Albus?"

Minerva's hand stopped upon the door, "Care for a game of chess?"

Hermione debated, she was tired and had another thirty papers to grade, however, if she wished to know the answer to the question asked, she would have to be in a setting away from others. And a game of chess qualified. "Twenty minutes?"

Minerva nodded, "I'll see you then." She said as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOOXO

Hermione unconsciously went to step off the gargoyle at the three second mark, only to have it continue lifting her upwards for another three seconds. She had believed that they would be playing in the study of Minerva's office, but it seemed she was wrong as the gargoyle opened up to reveal the wormy chestnut door to Minerva's private chambers.

The door opened at once, bidding entry and Hermione stepped off into the living room to see the sofa and chairs arranged around the coffee table with the chess set waiting as were the pieces upon it. Their half empty bottle of whisky was set next to the board, along with two tumblers and a tray of biscuits, crackers and ginger newts.

"I'll be there in a moment." Minerva's voice floating up from her office.

Hermione walked across the room, stopping at the banister eyes sweeping over the office below, immediately finding the woman she sought beneath. Minerva was at her desk, a roll of parchment in her hand and Hermione was a bit surprised to see four piles upon the large cherry top. Minerva was always so meticulous and had everything running so smoothly that her correspondence always remained to date, as did the rest of her paperwork and Hermione couldn't help but think how out of character it was for the papers to be piled upon the desk. "Take your time." Hermione replied, drawing a pair of emerald eyes from the parchment on to her.

"How are your students this evening?" Minerva asked as she returned her gaze to the letter, scanning the rest of the document.

Hermione frowned, "How did you know that's where I went?"

"I used to be a Head of House, Hermione." She stated as she pulled her quill from its ink pot and a fresh sheaf of paper. "And before settling in for a game of chess or my evening marking, I always checked upon the students."

"I never remember seeing you." Hermione's voice becoming softer as she thought back to her days as a student, "Except when we won the quidditch game or the house cup."

Minerva's hand quickly flowed across the page, as she responded to Harry's latest query about the Manor. "Glad to hear."

Hermione's hand wrapped just a bit tighter around the brass banister as she leaned forward, "Nor do I recall seeing your animagus form."

"I would only venture into the common room as an animagus either very early in the morning or quite late at night." She stated as she began her third line across the paper.

"Then how were you able to check on the students?" Curiosity burning at Hermione as she wondered what conversations Minerva could have or did hear over the years that no one would have been the wiser.

"Merely ask Godric into his picture within your study and ask him to show you the common room."

"You mean he can _show_ you what is going on in the Gryffindor common room?" Hermione's voice rising three octaves.

"Think of it as live television." Minerva said as she scrawled her name at the bottom of the page.

"Live television." Hermione repeated, unbelievingly that Minerva even knew what television was, and she was equating magic to muggle devices. "I can't believe that I didn't know."

"Not many do. Each Head of House's portrait shares that ability, though it is not something shared to every Head of House or at least not until we are sure that it won't be misused." Minerva was sealing the parchment with her emblem. "Elgin, please take this to the owlery."

Hermione watched as Elgin popped into view and was gone just as quickly, the rolled parchment along with him. "But how is it that it's not published within Hogwarts A History?" Hermione asked as Minerva pushed her chair away from her desk, noticing the ginger way she stood as she favored her left hip.

"There are many items not published within the book." Minerva said as she crossed her office.

Hermione thought back to just over two weeks ago, recalling the tunnels she had taken to arrive at Minerva's inner chambers. "As I am discovering." She quietly uttered as Minerva ascended the stairs and she debated on whether to bring up the tunnels she had used the night of the Hukbar. "And how often did you, uh…use Godric to check on the students?"

Minerva drew to a stop at the top of the stairs, meeting Hermione's mildly trepid gaze. "On average, three times a night."

"Three times?" Hermione easily thought back to her days as a student, "And you didn't take House points away for some of the stunts we pulled?"

A smile easily fell upon Minerva's face, "Merlin no." She said as she took the handful of steps to the sofa, "That is not what the portrait is for."

"Then what…"

Minerva felt her hip catch as she eased into the sofa, thankful that as soon as she got comfortable, she would not be moving for the next while hoping the pain draught she took upon arriving back at her chambers would begin working, soon. "To ensure the children's safety, nothing more."

"Is that how you knew we were going after the Sorcerer's Stone before I had made it all the way back through the obstacles?" Hermione sat in the chair opposite of Minerva.

"If memory serves, I was rather perturbed to see a stunned Neville lying face down upon the common room floor that evening. Upon reviving him, he had told me what the three of you were planning and I alerted Albus."

"And that's why I ran into him at the large chess set." Hermione finally understanding how Dumbledore already knew part of what was going on. "But why didn't you join him?"

"I had gone to the Heart to verify the wards were intact before joining him." Minerva replied, leaning forward as a pot of tea appeared before her.

"I don't think I'll ever get use to that." Hermione said as Minerva was already pouring herself a cup of tea.

"What, dear?" Minerva asked as she turned to Hermione, "Tea or did you wish to continue with the whisky?"

"Tea." Hermione replied, "The way you know when something is coming from the Hogwarts' kitchen. It's uncanny."

Minerva silently berated herself for her thoughtlessness. She would _have _to be more careful regarding Hogwarts magic and her predisposition towards it. "I will admit, though," Minerva carefully steering the topic back towards the common rooms, "When I first started as the Head of House, it was difficult to ignore items that would typically cause detention."

"I'm sure George and Fred's antics were hard for you not to pursue." Hermione said as she took the cup and saucer from Minerva.

"No, not at all." Minerva's words surprising Hermione.

"Really?" Came the disbelieving question.

Minerva tilted her head to the board, "You're white, please go first." She absently stated as memories of the Weasley twins surfaced. "The twins brought Albus and I both many laughs."

"Even with them inventing their product and using the students as test subjects?" Hermione asked as she moved her first pawn.

"I believe I may have inadvertently suggested to Fred about how to creatively lift the other students' spirits."

"You mean, you _encouraged_ them?" Hermione was shocked.

Merriment light up the elder woman's face, "If you would have seen Dolores and how their antics affected her classes, it was worth the small amount of mayhem." She moved her pawn in response as she continued on, "She would come into the Teacher's lounge between periods spitting nails at what concoction they had dreamt up the night before."

Hermione continued staring at Minerva, stunned. "Well…I never," She cleared her throat, "Never would have thought that you helped the twins."

"I can't really say helped." Minerva watched as Hermione toyed with first one pawn and then moved her hand down two squares to another. "More like, guided them." She said, a green twinkle almost glowing in her eyes, "As it wouldn't have helped Albus or I if I had been caught assisting in the disruption of the Ministry's prestigious curriculum."

"The Ministry's curriculum sucked." Hermione bluntly stated as she moved her piece, "God that was an awful year."

Minerva nodded in agreement, "Probably one of my worst as a professor here." She quickly moved one of her pieces in response, "Between the Ministry, the Prophet and its slanderous stories, Albus…" She paused as she recalled one of their many heated debates that year.

Hermione waited a second until Minerva's gaze returned, "I'm sure it had to be difficult time for you and Albus and your marriage."

"In some ways yes and other ways no. The challenge was at the end of the year without Albus here, the Ministry's tightening grip and even some of the Governor's began to fold to the Ministry's will."

"And then the incident with the stunners." Hermione stated as she moved her knight up the board. "I remember that night like it was yesterday. The flash of color bursting across the night's sky, Hagrid's booming voice, and then the doors flying open as you seemingly flew across the grounds. But," Hermione's head tipped to the side as she thought back, finally voicing questions she had long since wished to ask, "Why didn't you have your wand drawn? I've seen you duel, you could have taken on the four wizards."

"Because, she had given me her wand prior to dinner." Albus' portrait suddenly drifting into the room upon the small frame above the mantle, "As I had need for one that was not my own for a time."

Hermione frowned, "Then why go onto the grounds without a way to defend yourself?"

Minerva turned her head, giving Albus a pointed stare, "Old habits are hard to break." She curtly replied, eyes remaining riveted upon Albus.

"There's something more to the story, isn't there?" Hermione stated as she stared at both the witch and her previous Headmaster's portrait.

Albus broke his wife's gaze, chuckling. "You are a clever witch, Hermione. I do believe my dearest shall have to watch what she says around you."

"Albus." Minerva snapped.

"Oh come now," Albus' calming eyes trying to soothe his wife's predatory gaze. "It happened fifteen years ago, Minerva and I am willing to bet that you haven't told a soul save for perhaps Rory or Helena what happened that night. And considering everything, you should be very proud of what you accomplished."

Hermione was more intrigued than ever, "What happened?"

Minerva sighed, jaw tightening. "Well…" She threw her hand up to Albus, "As you seem inclined to grace us with your presence this evening, by all means." Eyes quickly raking over the board and deftly moving another pawn.

Hermione barely caught the chuckle in time at Minerva's dry retort, but lost it entirely when Albus' face light up with glee.

"Our brave lioness," He began, and Hermione could see a hint of pink gracing Minerva's ears at his remark, "Happened to notice the disturbance with Hagrid."

Minerva remembered feeling the entire warding structure shift and the thrum of magic coursing across the manicured lawns. It was one of the few times she had used Hogwarts' magic up to that point as she bent the apparating wards to her, enabling her to get to the front doors instantly.

"And interceded. What very few people know is that she did not have a wand that evening as it was within my possession."

Minerva remembered running out onto the lawns, automatically reaching for her wand and feeling as though a thousand rivers of ice had run down her back as she realized her mistake. A terrible one at that.

"Nor was it publicized that there were seven wizards and Delores upon the grounds that evening."

"Seven?" Hermione questioned. "I only remember seeing four."

A smile curled Albus' face, "That's because that was all that remained standing after Minerva's spell."

Hermione turned from Albus to Minerva, "That's why all four men turned to you, firing stunners."

"Yes, and it had a rather stunning effect." Minerva stated eyes drifting from Hermione back to Albus. "One that took more than my breath away."

"Is that when your hip was shattered?" Hermione asked, wondering what Minerva was referring to.

"Yes." Minerva quietly replied, forcing her eyes away from Albus and back to Hermione. The following four months had been horrible for her and Albus, between her recovering from her hip and the stunners to Albus' hand. Neither had cared for the overwhelming amount of pain that had coursed through their bond when the other had been gravely injured, but it had saved each of their lives. Albus had known what had happened, and he had arrived at the Hovel before Minerva had been taken to St. Mungos…enabling Helena to know what had happened prior to seeing her. And when Albus had scorched his hand, the curse burning up his arm…it had been Minerva who had awakened Severus that night… "When I flew backwards, my hip struck the flagstone."

"But why does it still bother you, I would have thought Helena would have been able to repair the joint." Hermione finally moving her knight further forward.

"The pain does not stem from the joint, Hermione." Minerva replied as she casually moved another pawn forward. "Rather the hundred bone chips within the surrounding tissue and muscles. When my hip struck the flagstone, it shattered the joint. Upon my arrival to St. Mungos before Helena arrived, an overzealous healer tried to repair the joint first and ended up embedding the fractured bone within tissue."

"Can't it be repaired?" Hermione involuntarily flinching at the notion of Minerva's hip.

"Helena performed surgery trying to remove as many of the bone fragments as possible, even using a summoning charm, but some remain."

"What ended up happening to the healer?" Hermione asked as she moved her knight across the board, threatening one of Minerva's pawns.

"Before or after both Helena and Albus spoke with him?" Minerva's hand pausing momentarily upon one the pawns already upon the board.

"After." Hermione stated, drawing a rich chuckle from the mantle and she turned her head to see what appeared to be tears pooling within his eyes.

"I believe you know him as Healer Michael Evans." Minerva stated before Albus felt the need to regal Hermione with that story too.

"Michael?" She pursed her lips, "He wouldn't."

Minerva moved her pawn, "He did, though after, I assure you it was the last time."

Hermione moved her knight, taking Minerva's pawn. "I can't believe he did that."

"Yes, well, Helena had him conducting all of her administrative work for two years after that while he wrote a minimum of three papers a week regarding various spells, effects, counter-spells."

"She didn't…"

"She did." Minerva replied as she slid her own knight out. "And since has developed a rigorous training program."

Hermione took a contemplative sip of her tea as she focused on the board. "She just cares."

"At times, too much." Minerva said picking up a ginger newt.

"Nonsense." Hermione slid her bishop forward. "For I doubt you care any less for her."

Minerva absently slid another pawn forward. "Touché." She whispered, leaning backwards, her eyes straying toward the mantle.

Hermione's fingers paused as she raised her eyes following Minerva's line of vision. "Have you ever stopped missing Albus?"

Minerva sighed, knowing what Hermione sought, and of all the questions to ask…to seek reassurance, why did she choose one that was paradoxal for Minerva at best. For how can you miss someone who remains forever present, and yet absent too? "I believe that it is a mixed answer, yes and no."

"How so?" Hermione asked, personally intrigued as she advanced her knight towards the other exposed pawn.

"After forty years of marriage, we were quite close." Minerva replied as she slid her pawn forward again, pausing to adjust her statement. "And I miss sharing the little details with him." The truth ringing from her words, because despite sharing a great many things with his portrait, it wasn't the same as sharing it with the man who could fold her within his arm and make the day fall away. "There was also a great deal of comfort in a relationship as long lasting as ours. A comforting gesture, a knowing smile…"

"And the yes part?" She asked moving her bishop forward to capture a second pawn.

Minerva moved another pawn towards the knight and bishop, causing Hermione to frown. "There are whole weeks that go by that I don't think of him, as he is fixed within my past and I continue to move forward into the future."

Hermione immediately moved her knight forward, "And why haven't you re-married."

Minerva caught how quickly Albus' eyes snapped to Hermione as she carefully shielded her own away from Hermione's curious gaze, taking advantage of it being her turn as she pretended to contemplate where she would be moving her chess piece. She permitted a full minute to pass, mask firmly in place as she raised her eyes to waiting brown ones. "Finding a suitor who wishes a relationship versus my namesake has been rather difficult." Minerva moved her knight beside Hermione's bishop.

"I know what you mean." Hermione muttered as she closed in upon Minerva's pawn. "I dread the day Ron's and my divorce becomes finalized and it runs in the Prophet. I will have admirers who want to date me for my name alone."

Minerva chuckled, "I believe you and I are at a very different point in our lives, dear." She swept her knight across the board, effectively pinning Hermione's bishop or knight. "As your name will soon evoke those wishing to become your lover along with capturing an ounce of your fame, mine has long passed into suitors wishing for the latter only."

"I don't know about that, Minerva. A few years ago at the Ministry ball, you wore a black evening gown and several of the men were interested…" Hermione grumbled at her lack of options regarding her knight and bishop, opting to save her knight and take another of Minerva's pawns.

"Black gown?" Minerva's knight capturing Hermione's bishop. "When did I…" Then she recalled, the evening she and Johannes had dueled along the southern streets of London. "Oh, yes." She had been running late and had opted to transfigure her robes into a simple gown, mind on the family she had apparated to St. Mungos before going to the ball. When she had arrived back at Hogwarts, she had been rather surprised at the dress she had transfigured…as she hadn't worn anything remotely similar to that style since Albus had passed. "About five years ago."

"You looked quite beautiful in it." Hermione stated as her hand drew a rook upon the board.

Minerva felt her breath catch at Hermione's words. _Beautiful. Yes, well that had been a lifetime ago, _Minerva chastised herself, focusing again upon the board. "A long time ago." She slide her own bishop from behind her remaining line of pawns. "From your tone just now and mannerisms last week, have you and Ronald formally decided to seek divorce?"

"I signed the papers a week ago Sunday and received an official letter yesterday that it would be finalized at some point next week." She moved one of her own pawns, before picking up her teacup again.

"Perhaps I could purchase all the Daily Prophets on the day it hits the news cycle." Minerva stated as she mentally filed away the tidbit of news as she would endeavor to keep that evening free, she was sure it would be at best, a trying day for Hermione.

"If only it were that easy." She replied as Minerva's knight jumped forward, landing along Hermione's pawns, but managing to effectively avoid being taken and placing her rook in danger. "And how, by the way, did you and Albus manage to avoid being in the Prophet as husband and wife or even a hint of impropriety between the two of you?"

"I had someone who owed me a rather large favor." Minerva replied as she took a bite of a ginger newt.

"Large favor." Hermione scoffed, "Colossal might be a more accurate word." She moved her bishop backwards, becoming defensive so that if Minerva took her rook, she could take Minerva's knight. "What did you do, save their life?"

"Something like that." Minerva quipped in reply as she engaged her second knight onto the board.

"Then why didn't you ask them not to print the slanted articles regarding Harry and Dumbledore fifteen years ago?" Hermione asked as she slid another pawn forward.

"I made a deal regarding maintaining the secrecy of my family forty years prior, Hermione. One that had been kept by both parties and to this day remains unbroken."

"What kind of deal?" Hermione becoming innately curious.

"Someone who had as large of a family secret as I, who wished it to remain guarded. I have kept their secret and they mine."

"Who would have as large of a family secret to hide as you and Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, moderately baffled as Minerva's second knight took one of her pawns.

Minerva pondered Hermione's question as the younger woman reviewed the board. It was not something she discussed lightly, especially given the potential repercussions. "I…" She paused, not knowing how to broach a topic that even her children didn't know the full truth behind. Perhaps it was better for the truth to remain buried. "Hermione, this isn't something that even my children know the truth about. Please, let this one be."

Hermione's fingers rested upon the top of the rook, eyes boring into Minerva. "I meant no offense, it just amazes me how you have been able to keep your personal information from the Prophet."

"It's not through offense, Hermione. It's just…" She let her eyes fall away for a moment, "Something that if it were to come out, would ruin several lives." She sighed, reaching over, past the teapot to the bottle of whisky and unscrewed the cap. In one deft motion, her cup was filled and she was balancing the bottle in her hand over Hermione's.

Hermione gave a nod, "I won't say a word."

"I know." Minerva placed the cap back onto the bottle. "Towards the end of the war, I happened upon a small chamber to the north of Grindlewald's castle. There was a child there, a young girl named Milan." Minerva lifted her cup, remembering the young girl staring up at her, eyes the size of saucers begging Minerva not to hurt her. "She was the daughter of a muggle woman who had been raped by Grindlewald. Despite, his preference for the other gender, he had sought an heir. And the only reason the girl was still alive, was that he had not had a male heir. She was eight and I…" Minerva paused as a quirk of a smile appeared on her face, "Took her with me."

"What did Albus say?" Hermione asked as she moved her rook across the board and then took a sip of her drink.

"He didn't know." She said a mischievous smile upon her face.

"That is quite the understatement, my dear." Albus chimed in from the mantle.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Albus, smiling. "I believe she's getting to it, Albus."

"I'm sure she'll leave a _few _details out." Albus muttered.

"No comments from the lemon drop gallery." Minerva quipped, "As I had transfigured a mock wall within my tent, effectively hiding her through the end of the war."

"Oh my…" Hermione placed a hand to her mouth.

"Ohhh…you have no idea." Minerva stated as she continued on, "As I had a friend who put the paperwork through and had her declared as my cousin, Milan McGonagall whose family had died during the war."

"What did Derrick say?" Hermione asked as Minerva moved her knight again.

"He didn't know for years. He treated her as family, took her in." Minerva absently fingered her jaw, remembering how he had dislocated it when he had learned the truth. She had retaliated and broke both his wrists. Later they had been able to laugh about it, as they both were forced to learn how to cast differently. She wordlessly, he wandlessly for two weeks.

"And she grew up, and…"

"Lives with her husband in London, who believes she is from the McGonagall clan. Which for she is, her heart is that of a McGonagall…"

"But her blood says differently." Hermione beginning to realize exactly how deep it went.

They remained fairly quiet for a moment as Minerva finished the last of her drink, "You probably know her as Milon Peoples."

"As in the wife of the proprietor's son who owns the Prophet?"

"The very one."

"And she knows of you and Albus and didn't publish it?" Hermione asked shocked. Milan was known as a fair and very reputable reporter whose stories, even during the Voldemort era held nothing but truth.

"No, but…it has also cost her some immense collateral to keep it out of the papers." Minerva fought back a yawn as Hermione moved her bishop back across the board. "So, when you ask why I didn't push my resource to keep Harry and Albus' comments from the paper, it was too large and already had a head of its own…one Fudge was propelling faster than even Albus' casting ability."

"Wow…is there anyone who doesn't owe you a favor or your family one?" Hermione said shaking her head as Minerva's knight jumped across the board again.

"In that case, it wasn't much of a favor, rather…a mutual understanding."

"She must feel indebted to you."

Minerva sadly shook her head, "No, we had a falling out several years ago, just after Derrick's death."

"I'm sorry. Why?"

"A difference of opinion." Minerva quietly replied, her eyes misting over. She had been like a younger sister or a very old daughter; and Milan's words had stung as sharp as her father's venomous wand strokes.

"_Your secret has not only taken the life of your son but now your brother too! Damn you, Minerva. You and Albus are phenomenal with magic, everyone in Britain respects the two of you. Stop hiding before I don't have any damn family left."_

"_Cal wasn't killed because of Albus or I..."_

_Milan snapped back, interrupting, "But Derrick was and if you don't stop hiding, I'll force you from the shadows."_

"_You will do nothing of the sort, Milan." Minerva's magic already crackling in response._

"_You are a coward, it's a wonder you ever defeated my father." She took a step closer to Minerva, "I used to think of you as my sister, mother…all rolled up in one; and now, if the brave Minerva McGonagall is so afraid of herself and the man she loves that she won't stand up for what she believes or loves; I want nothing to do with her. After all, her only concern is her personal welfare and the secrets she hides."_

The next hour they quietly moved their chess pieces, the duration between their respective moves incrementally increasing as the game progressed. Minerva recalling when Albus learned the truth of what she had done during the war regarding Milan, their fallout…and reconciliation. It had been the only time in their long relationship that they had ever gotten so mad that magic had flown between them. Minerva then went on to recall how Derrick and Milan's relationship initially changed when he learned the truth…and how much better it became later.

Initially, Hermione thought of Milan Peoples, and how difficult it would have been for Minerva to keep the young girl hidden. And she couldn't help but wonder what could have happened to create what apparently was a deep rift between the two women after so much had happened between the two. Then her mind began drifting to Ron and the ever-present fallout just on the horizon. It was only a matter of time before her personal life would be headline news across the Prophet. In some ways she envied Minerva, not having her personal life plastered across the front of the Prophet…but…to have lived the life she had. And to have survived it.

Hermione slid her queen diagonally across the board, raising her eyes to see the closed ones of Minerva McGonagall. Head resting upon her hand, fingers threaded in her ebony hair, soft breaths eschewing through her lips and Hermione quietly waited for several minutes, expecting Minerva to jolt herself awake but it didn't happen. The opposite did, her face became more relaxed…lines of her face disappearing.

With a wave of her hand, Minerva's glasses sailed through the air and into her hands and she gently folded the arms up, resting them on the table.

"She's exhausted." Albus' quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.

Hermione turned to him, rising and took the handful of steps forward. "She'll be alright."

Albus narrowed his eyes at the woman before her, "You have a lot to learn about Minerva, dear." He stated, "She puts up a good front, better than fabled walls of Hogwarts…though at times they are as thick and as strong or stronger."

Hermione frowned, "She just needs to get a good night rest."

"Sounds easy." Albus replied, "Except she hasn't had one since before her birthday." He nodded towards Minerva, "She'll be up in another hour, perhaps two."

Hermione turned around, eyes upon the Headmistress. "Why hasn't she seen Poppy or Helena? Gotten a dreamless sleeping draught?"

"That, dear, is not something Minerva believes in." Albus' eyes returned to Hermione.

"Then why tell me?" Hermione asked.

"I am forbidden to discuss such matters with either the school matron or Helena." He stated simply.

"And you want me to?" Hermione feeling a slight bit of apprehension welling up in the pit of her stomach.

"No." Albus conceded, "I merely wish someone else to be aware that Minerva is not doing as well as people perceive."

Hermione nodded, "I'll keep an eye on her." She whispered as her gaze drifted back to the still woman's sleeping form.

"I know you will, dear." He quietly replied as she walked away.

Hermione stopped beside the sofa and flicked her wand a handful of times. The sofa morphing into a bed, one of the pillows becoming a thick comforter as her silver hair pins suddenly took up residence next to where she had placed Minerva's glasses; ebony hair spilling across the white pillow. Hermione watched momentarily as Minerva shifted in her sleep, hand reaching out across the bed…stopping as it touched a pillow about a foot away…fingers curling around the edge, slowly drawing it to her…tucking her arm around it; her face relaxing just a bit more.

She waved her wand once more as she left the room, the lights fading away. "Elgin." She stated as the gargoyle began its steady descent.

The house elf popped beside her, luminescent yellow eyes blinking up at her. "Professor's Hermione."

"Will you please let me know if Minerva wakes up before four this coming morning?" She asked, kneeling down eye level with the tiny elf.

He began to shake his head, "I's cannots."

"She hasn't been sleeping, and you know it Elgin." She said, warm brown eyes pleading with his. "And she's exhausted." The gargoyle ground to a halt.

"Master Albus' picture was right, but I's pledged to protect the Mistress." His voice portraying his worry.

"And you are Elgin. I promise it will go no farther."

"Its cannots even go to Blondie."

"It won't." She said as yellow eyes measured the sincerity of her words.

"Whats you'se planning?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione honestly replied, "But we'll figure it out, Elgin." His blinked his tears back as she whispered the word, "Together."

**Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**


	25. Chapter 24 October 21st, 2009

**Chapter 24****th**** ~ October 21****st**** 2009 (Wednesday)**

Hermione stared at the piece of paper, shocked. "She was up at just after one this morning?"

Elgin wearily bobbed his head. "Yes, Professor's Granger."

"Has she gone back to bed?" Hermione's eyes drifting over to the clock; she would be heading down to breakfast in ten minutes. And she felt certain that Minerva would already be there, if she wasn't already.

"No's. She's nevers goes backs to bed." He stated as he shifted his weight to his other foot.

"She barely slept for another hour after I left." Hermione sighed, blinking her own fatigue from her eyes. "And you are telling me that she is going to remain up for the rest of the day."

"Yes, Professor's Granger." He cleared his throat and sighed, "I's needs to go."

"Elgin…"

"Mistress calls." He simply said and was gone in a flash leaving a sputtering Hermione in her wake staring after him. _How the devil was she remaining awake all day?_

She frowned as her eyes dropped to the time scrawled across the scrap of paper. _And why in the hell was she getting up after only sleeping for a few hours every night? And how was still functioning with only a few hours of sleep for over two weeks straight._

She banished the paper from her hand, grasping her outer robe as she strode out from her bedroom. By the time Godric's portrait opened she was dressed, striding down the corridor and within two minutes walking into the Great Hall. Her eyes immediately sliding down the table, landing upon the Headmistress who was seated next to Filius, the other seat open.

Without thought, she strode forward and sat next to Minerva. "Good morning, Headmistress."

Minerva turned her head, the fatigue evident within her eyes as she met brown eyes. "Hermione, what a pleasant surprise." She said, a smile gracing her lips.

Filius' eyes glanced past the Headmistress, a smile crossing his face. "Yes, quite Hermione."

"Good morning, Filius." She said pouring some pumpkin juice, "I was hoping you would be able to finish that game of chess this evening, Minerva."

Minerva turned to Hermione eyes piercing the younger woman's. "Perhaps. I don't know what time .I'll be returning from St. Mungos this afternoon, and I fear that I may be asking for your assistance this evening for a light bit of travel."

Hermione placed some fresh fruit upon her plate, "I thought you wanted to work on detecting body movement while dueling."

"Yes, well…" Minerva took a sip of coffee, "I haven't received a response back from Horace yet, and he is many things, but he has always been timely with his correspondence."

"How long has it been?" Filius asked knowing of Horace's panache for flair, but he always responded to his correspondence within 24 hours.

"His letter went out on Sunday." Minerva set her coffee down, "And I have not heard from him or Wilhemenia."

"I thought she had promised to correspond regularly." Hermione stated as another sleepy eyed Ravenclaw stepped into the Great Hall for a sum total of eight students.

"It's been a week." Minerva stated, "So, unless I receive a letter from him prior to this evening, we'll be going for a quick visit."

"You don't think something happened to him, do you?" Hermione asked, looking at Minerva. "And response? How many letters have you sent out?"

"I hope not, and I've been writing a handful each morning when I get up to ex-professors."

Hermione purposefully took a sip of coffee to avoid her commentary on how many letters she would be able to write if she was getting up at some obscene hour in the morning. "How many do you have left to finish?"

"I finished the last of them this morning."

"Truly?" Filius asked, "I thought you had just over twenty left to write."

"Yes," Minerva cleared her throat, "Well, I was up rather early this morning."

Hermione didn't have to say a word, as Filius' worried voice cut through her thoughts…echoing her own concerns. "This is becoming a pattern that is quite worrisome, Minerva. Perhaps a dreamless draught."

Minerva's jaw clenched, "Perhaps. But, I assure you Filius, Hermione…I have been getting enough sleep."

Filius leaned forward momentarily catching Hermione's gaze and easily discerning the same concern within her own eyes, and Hermione voiced her thoughts before he had an opportunity. "Then why do the circles beneath your eyes grow darker?"

Minerva cast a glance upwards, "It is merely the lighting." She replied and as she moved her head, the light fell upon her face differently, the circles disappearing from view as she wandlessly cast an impenetrable glamour charm to hide the circles beneath her eyes.

Filius frowned as the circles seemingly dissolved, "A very good glamour charm Minerva, even I can't see through it."

Hermione blinked and gazed over at Minerva, she couldn't see the charm nor did she see how Minerva had cast it.

"I'd hope not." Minerva said returning her attention back to her breakfast, "As you both have other things to worry about rather than my shortened sleep patterns." An owl screeched as it flew in from the window causing the handful of heads to turn to the animal as it swept at an alarming speed towards the head table; even causing Pomona to stop as she entered through the side door to glance upwards.

The owl slid to a stop, bumping into Minerva's plate leg already outstretched. Minerva knew the owl, "Good morning Hoot." She said stretching her hand out, the bird nodding its head as long fingers stroked its smooth feathers before sliding down its body to remove the leather tie and attached parchment; dreading what lay within the note.

"Isn't that Helena's personal owl?" Pomona asked pulling the chair out next to Filius.

"Yes." Minerva absently replied as she slit the seal, uncoiling the parchment.

_M ~ _

_There was an attack at St. Mungos this morning; Lockhart was taken._

_H_

"It appears that we'll be going to Horace's as soon as you finish your classes today, Hermione." She said pushing her chair aside, "Filius, get the professors in the lounge, immediately." She handed the letter to Filius, both Hermione and Pomona glancing at the note as Filius pushed his own chair back. "Hoot, help yourself to the bacon on my plate." Minerva said turning away from the huddled group of professors; robes swirling behind her in her wake.

Her overbearing fatigue momentarily forgotten.

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

"Minerva, are you sure?" Marx asked face turning paler than usual.

She shook her head, "Not positively, but I don't want to wait any longer before telling each of you as I'm talking about the safety of your families. I don't want to start a panic, nor can this get out into the public, but I want each of you to begin taking precautions for your families well being. I am opening the north tower, making it available for any of your families use, and I'll be extending the same courtesy to each of our previous professors and their immediate families."

"What about the Ministry?" Sinistra asked leaning forward, "Do they have any leads?"

"As many of you know, Minister Shacklebolt and I are still on polar opposites regarding Johannes and the threat to the people."

"So he doesn't believe that we have cause to be concerned?" Clemons asked.

"If the Headmistress 'tates there is cause ta be concerned, then der is cause." Hagrid stated his words drawing several nods throughout the room.

"Thank you Hagrid, however, you each have reason to doubt the validity behind my words as I have very little proof only supposition."

There was a deafening silence following her words as everyone absorbed what she stated. Finally, Marx cleared his throat, "You have become the embodiment of Hogwarts and its Houses; your bravery and courage as stout as Godric's; your loyalty to those you care about as tenable as Helga's; your intellect as keen as Rowena's and your cunning as adept as Salazar's. If it were coming from any other person, I would not take your words to heart believing they were somehow self-serving or pompous. But they are not; they are coming from you, Minerva. And I thank you for notice."

Minerva gave him a subtle nod before speaking, "I would suggest each of you garnering a secret keeper for your homes, someone whom you trust with your life, but not someone others would know." Minerva cleared her throat, drowning out the subtle wave of conversation that was beginning to sweep through the professors as they began talking. "I will call a meeting with all of you as soon as I know anything else."

Minerva turned and was stepping through the doorway before anyone had a chance to stop her, stray comments grazing her ears causing the concern for her staff and their families to swell within her chest.

"Minerva." Hermione's voice drifting down the hallway as she stepped out of the room, "Do you honestly believe that he will go after our families?" She asked nearing her mentor as she did.

Minerva's eyes darted past Hermione to the open door of the staff's lounge, "I do," She grasped the younger woman's arm, pulling her a few steps farther down the hall, "Lockhart is the tip of a potentially much larger problem."

"You haven't received responses from more than just Horace or Wilhemenia, have you?"

"I will know more this afternoon." Minerva stated, "Hopefully…I will have received a few more responses by then."

Brown eyes swept over Minerva's countenance and for one brief moment she could see the worry that bordered on panic and then it was gone. "I shall hope so too." Hermione replied as Minerva gave her a nod and then turned and swept from view, and from the speed of her gait, Hermione knew it was pointless to follow. Minerva had probably left the grounds already and apparated to St. Mungos.

Hermione stood there for a few more minutes, staring down the empty corridor, wondering how long Minerva had been working on trying to contact the Hogwarts' previous professors. And why she hadn't asked for help.

"Are you going to have your children move onto the grounds?" Filius asked as he stepped beside her.

"I don't know." Hermione's gaze dropped to the Deputy, "I haven't thought about it."

Filius began walking forward, Hermione joining suit. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, you?"

"Just briefly yesterday evening."

"At dinner." Hermione's hands falling behind her back as they turned the corner.

"Yes." Filius confirmed as he veered towards a classroom, the door creaking open as they neared. He motioned for her to enter, and he silenced their conversation as the door closed behind them. Filius turning fully to Hermione, concern etched in his golden eyes. "How long have you noticed that she hasn't been sleeping?"

Hermione hadn't known what she was expecting, but that had definitely not been the question, "Excuse me?"

"Minerva. She hasn't been sleeping, when did you notice?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say that it wasn't his business, that he was meddling in the Headmistress' personal affairs, but the words died in her throat at his openly worried expression.

"I would deduce it has been within the last forty-eight hours, as she has not been on the grounds except for meals and a few scant meetings with some of the professors. And she has asked Neville to assist you with the next phase of your training, perceptive movement. A difficult notion to learn how to apply in the heat of a battle, even after the fundamentals have been learned. One she was keen on having taught to you before the end of this coming month, and she rarely misses her mark once setting a goal. So, I ask again, when did you notice?"

"Last night. I haven't seen her other than meals for the past week until last evening. Why do you ask?"

His jaw tightened, "The primary job of the Deputy is to watch out for the Head of Hogwarts, in this instance, our illustrious Headmistress whose color has grown more ashen by the day as have the circles beneath her eyes."

"And you don't believe that she is going to slow down in the near future."

"Do you?" He asked pointedly.

"No." Hermione conceded, "I don't. But, I'm at a loss as to what to do."

"I'm going to begin running the staff meetings and if you would be willing to come to me with issues prior to going to Minerva regarding Gryffindor students…"

"Running interference so to speak." Hermione stated and at Filius' nod, she gave him a curt nod in return. "Very well."

"And I must also ask you to postpone your lessons for a few weeks." At her disbelieving look he continued on, "I haven't asked Minerva why she wishes to train you, I fear I will not like the answer, but she can't continue pushing herself. She needs to rest."

"Filius, I will speak with her, and ask her to slow down, but…" She shook her head, "I can't ask her to stop."

"You must." He implored. "Johannes will have to wait."

"I don't think he is going to, nor is she willing to let it rest."

Filius' gaze slowly pulled away from Hermione, eyes turning to the high arching windows, the sun glinting off the gold within his irises as his voice quietly rose up to Hermione's ears. "I remember the first time I formally met Minerva, of course I had known her from Hogwarts, she was three years my senior…the Gryffindor quidditch captain who had a panache for transfiguration and any other subject that caught her attention, but our paths had never crossed. The first time they did, was on assignment in Germany; my first one. She had been stationed there for two years, the war was reaching its zenith; she and I had just drawn the scouting detail. It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission, in and out but…" His voice faded away as he recalled the bombs detonating around them, the way the very earth shook from the impact. "It didn't happen that way as we were intercepted by a small contingent of wizards who were in Berlin to meet with Hitler. One happened to be Grindlewald…there were just the two of us, and six of them. I can still remember how badly my arm and wand were shaking. Minerva never wavered, neither did her wand." He paused again…lost in his memory.

"What happened?"

"We fought, and Minerva saved my life almost at the expense of her own." As if being pulled back from the brink, his head tipped back and eyes met hers. "You see, she is a Gryffindor, like you, Hermione. And she will give all that she is to stop an injustice, even if it calls for her life. But there also is where the difference lies; as you still have something worth living for and she has very little."

"I don't believe that." Hermione rebuked, "She has her children and her grandchildren."

"Hermione, you must believe that even the most courageous and the stoutest of heart lose hope and the will to go on; including Minerva McGonagall. As I've seen the look that exists along the edge of her eyes before, Hermione." He blinked and in that flash could see the same determined, and yet hollow look in her normally vibrant eyes. "It was shortly after our skirmish with Gellert," He cleared his throat, "She had been gravely wounded and was losing blood at a phenomenal rate. No healing spell would stop the flow of blood and as she lost consciousness she asked that I let her finally die and be with her family." He reached out taking Hermione's arm within his hand, "And right now, our esteemed Headmistress is tired Hermione, physically and emotionally. Something happened a few weeks ago, and since then…she has grown both more distant and determined while detaching herself from those she cares for."

Hermione's eyes dropped to the hand gently clasped around her arm, "I know. I was there."

"What…?

Hermione shook her head, "I can't Filius." His hand fell away, dejection crossing his face and she couldn't stop the sigh from slipping from her lips. "It's not that I don't want to tell you," A frown curling at the corners of her mouth, "However, I made a promise to Minerva before the start of term that I would assist her in her…_exploits_ shall we say." She spun a chair around, sitting down…bringing her just below eye level to Filius. "I've only pieced part of the reason why she has asked for my assistance, and I fear that if I remotely compromise her trust; she'll forgo my assistance and…" Tears pooled at the corners of her brown eyes, "I really don't think she'll ask anyone else."

Filius gave a grave nod, "She wouldn't, and frankly I'm rather surprised she asked for any help. But it makes sense." He murmured the last part partially to himself.

"Why does it make sense?" She asked noting the slight discomfort his posture took.

At once his gold eyes snapped to hers, a mask falling over his face shocking Hermione at how quick and adept he was at hiding his feelings. "She, like the rest of us, is getting older and is not as quick nor will she have the reserves she once had."

"I see we have reached an impasse regarding what we know and what we'll share." Hermione leaned forward, eyes challenging his. "Don't deny what we both know is the truth."

"You are an astute witch, Hermione." He cryptically replied as he tilted his head to the side, lips pursing in thought for a moment. "Perhaps an accord can be reached."

"I'm listening."

"I'll continue to work with you, assist in developing your dueling skills if you will assist in limiting Minerva's already limited training time with you. Also, I will need your assistance in deferring the other professors' daily concerns from Minerva. That should free up a bit of her time, enabling her to rest perhaps an hour more daily. And you…" His voice dropping in tone, becoming deep in pitch. "Have to maintain her trust and continue to go with her."

"But…how is that helping to ease her exhaustion?"

Filius' face was set, firm. "You were correct in your analysis Hermione, she wouldn't take someone else with her if you broke her trust or something were to happen to you. She would rather die first. So, it may not seem as though you are helping, but trust me, you are – immeasurably."

"I can also help run interference…"

Slowly the short wizard shook his head, face portraying his grave understanding of why Minerva had been so insistent that he help her train Hermione. She hadn't told him that Hermione would be going with her all the time, just that there would be times she may need someone and as he would need to remain at Hogwarts…it had been logical. Especially to have another expert duelist upon the grounds, as Minerva was growing weaker almost daily. But to hear that Hermione would be going with Minerva when she left, it made his heart feel lighter and heavier all at once.

He had never known anyone to go with Minerva or Albus as they gathered intelligence. Perhaps Rory on the rare occasion or even Derrick, but that had been decades ago. In recent years, Minerva had become a recluse regarding her comings and goings; barely even acknowledging them…unless he would still be up when she returned and she had yet to change from her all too often bloody robes. It was a wonder she didn't keep Madame Malkins single handedly open through her the sheer amount of robes she had to go through in a year.

For whatever reason, Minerva had asked Hermione to assist her; it probably had to do with their remarkably similar styles and skills. He had to agree with Minerva's assessment of Hermione, she was a witch who would be truly magnificent as she came into her own. She was remarkably intelligent, quick, powerful, she just lacked experience.

"No Hermione…" A gentle smile beginning to cross his lips, "Your job will be far too taxing without any additional stress."

"How do you figure?"

"Hogwarts typically doesn't try and kill you; where Minerva will be taking you, will."

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxo_

Minerva shakily drew the pain potion to her lips as the gargoyle activated.

"That's your second one today, my dear." Albus stated as she tipped her head back.

"I know." She breathed out as she banished the brown bottle. "But it has been sixteen hours since the last one."

"They are supposed to last twenty-four." Snape interjected, "Or has your son forgotten how to brew a standard pain potion."

"I believe that one came from Clemons." Minerva casually replied as she picked up her quill.

"Have you told either Poppy or Helena the pain is becoming worse?" Albus asked, drawing a sidelong gaze as the handle rustled.

"No." She firmly stated, Hermione stepping into the room looking as tired as she felt. "Long day?"

Hermione bit back her immediate response, not wanting to burden Minerva with more. Long, would be kind, atrocious was more apropos. "I'll merely say seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors."

"Ahhh…" Minerva vividly recalling those days. "They can be taxing on the best of days."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, they can. I wanted to know if we would be going to Horace's this evening."

Minerva's eyes flickered to the window; she had only received three more responses this afternoon; none had been from Horace. "Unfortunately, we will and perhaps Dillon McPherson's too."

"After dinner, I presume?"

Minerva merely placed her quill back into the inkpot and stood, "I think we can accomplish that within the next hour and a half and be back in time for dinner." Minerva grabbing her walking stick from against the desk, "Do you need anything prior to going?"

"I…" Hermione took a step backwards, "My cloak."

"Hermione." Minerva's words stopping the younger woman, "There are faster ways," She motioned for her to follow.

"It won't take but ten minutes." Hermione again moving to the door. "There is no sense that you apparate…"

"Who said anything about apparating?" Minerva inquired as she began to quickly ascend the brass staircase to her private rooms.

"I would follow dear." Albus coaxed.

Several other Headmasters and Headmistresses nodded their heads in agreement.

"How is it faster?" Hermione asked as she walked by Albus' portrait. "Other than apparating, it can't be. There are six flights of steps separating her rooms to mine."

"And she still calls you the smartest witch of the age." Severus sneered as Hermione began taking two steps at a time. By the time she reached the top, Minerva was emerging from one of the doors with a tartan cloak grasped in her hand.

"Ahh…good of you to join me." She quipped draping the fabric over the inside of her arm as she walked forward. "Now…" She continued to the door beside the one on the end…that hadn't been there before.

"Where does that go?" Hermione asked as Minerva's hand was already wrapping around the brass handle. "And where was it? It wasn't there before now."

"Today…" She opened the frame a dark passage lay beyond, "I believe this will take us to your rooms. Come." She said brows arched, waiting for Hermione to follow.

Hermione quickly followed, stepping into the hallway first, Minerva closing the door behind her. At once she recognized the hallway, it was similar to the one she used to carry Minerva back to her rooms the night of the Hukbar. "I used one of these from the north entrance to reach your rooms."

"Elgin told me." Minerva stated as the torches burst into flames ahead of them. "Left." She said as they reached an intersection.

"What is this place and what are these?" She asked as they passed another intersection and several multicolored doors.

"Magical hallways that the Head of Hogwarts and other designated persons have access to." Minerva stated as she flicked her left hand, the door ahead and to the right of Hermione opening. "Through there."

Hermione walked through the opening, and out beside Godric's picture…on the inside of her study. Godric jumped awake, "Ah…Ms. Granger," A smile crossing his face, "Minerva, I should have known."

"We'll try to not to make it a habit." Minerva replied chuckling at the prestigious man's frown.

"That worked so well before." His dry comment causing Minerva to turn an immediate shade of rose pink, her eye arching in response…smile still upon her lips.

Hermione paused at her outer door to her inner rooms, "What does he mean?"

Minerva pursed her lips at the portrait, "Our dear friend Godric doesn't like the inner stairway, as it comes out right beside him. Though, he was the one who originally suggested that Albus and I use it to travel between our rooms. At the time, I made…" She brought herself closer to Hermione, enabling the other woman to listen and enter her own rooms to grab her cloak. "The comment that we wouldn't use it often."

"And you did?"

Minerva's laugh, albeit quiet, was rich and warming. "Yes, quite."

Hermione stepped from out of her room, a smile upon her own face. "You should laugh more often," She wrapped her cloak about her shoulders, eyes pulling up to see the other woman's face as it sobered, "Really, you have a very rich laugh."

Minerva turned away, wrapping her cloak about her shoulders, "Thank you." She said as Hermione stepped beside her.

"Are we walking to the front gates to apparate?" Hermione asked, hoping the answer was yes, thereby enabling her to apparate the two of them.

Minerva's eyes narrowed behind her glasses, "I think not." She stepped to the side, brining her face to face with the other woman, "And your behavior and commentary give too much away."

Hermione's face jerked upright, "I just want…"

"As you and Filius have undoubtedly spoken since this morning, I haven't been sleeping and am a bit fatigued. Now, for the sake of argument, as I'm sure you and Filius have deduced a plan that is probably better that I know nothing about, but that has my welfare at the forefront in both your minds; so, how about we both say we argued and finally settled that I will apparate us to Horace's and Dillon's; and you will apparate us anywhere else."

"How'd you know that Filius and I spoke?" Hermione asked as Minerva reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Because…" Minerva's fingers curled around the woolen fabric, "It's what I would have done." At once, she pulled the wards to her and they were gone with a faint pop.

_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxoxø_

Hermione felt her stomach lurch in her throat, the scene was the same as the previous two before; though with less mess. They stayed for but a moment, Minerva had briefly walked Hermione through the scene at Horace's. The apparent struggle, how the battle occurred within the home and the outcome. Horace's had had the most spell damage, and there was evidence that indicated that he had significantly injured someone. Dillion's and Margaret's had far less, but the struggle was still glaringly apparent if one knew what to look for.

"We need to go to the Ministry." Minerva's voice barely reaching Hermione's ears, sadness now lacing her once musical cadence.

Hermione needed no direction; it would be a short apparition across London. "Do you believe Kingsley's in?"

"He will be." Minerva said, face becoming grim with determination as Hermione reached over, hand wrapping around her upper arm.

"Hold on." Hermione stated as she apparated them into the Ministry.

No sooner had the Ministry's atrium come into view, and Minerva was striding across the black marbled floors; hundreds of heads turning towards the imposing witch. And their reaction was unanimous as every single person stepped away from Minerva not wanting to get within her path.

Hermione trailed behind Minerva, watching as the venerable woman strode down the corridors…the clicking of her heals and walking stick along with the set of her shoulders, all of the Ministry officials steering clear…even the Minister's assistant seemed reluctant to want to help Minerva.

"I need to see him." Minerva's voice turning cold, "Now."

"I'm afraid he is with someone, Headmistress." Blair Thomas stated, unable to keep the quake from her voice.

Minerva cleared her throat, but Hermione stepped up beside her…hand momentarily resting upon Minerva's shoulder as she did. "Blair, the Headmistress _needs_ to see the Minister. Immediately."

Large blue eyes flickered momentarily to Hermione and then back again, "I'm under strict orders. Not to…" She swallowed as Minerva fully leveled her gaze upon the young witch, "Allow anyone, especially _you_, Headmistress, entry."

Hermione winced at Blair's words. Words that never should have been given as a directive, especially regarding Minerva.

Hermione could feel Minerva's magic come alive in a heartbeat as it licked across her skin. And for one moment…she felt her world stop and she was back in Hogwarts' hallway…

Being chased by death eaters…

Heart hammering in her chest as the two wizards screamed rants from behind her as their steps neared.

Turning the corner, feet sliding…almost losing her traction, she thought she was done…

And then her eyes landed upon the woman who had saved her life with magic she had never seen before and wouldn't see again for over a decade.

But after Minerva had cast the spells…she had seemed disoriented…and Hermione had reached out to touch her…and that is when she had first felt another's magic, the same one rippling across her skin now…

It had been potent…overwhelming…

And as her eyes refocused, she couldn't help but feel reassured. She had felt Minerva's magic briefly before as she side-along apparated, but this was different. It crackled against the very air, engulfing…threatening…and strangely comforting.

Blair took a cautious step back, "Headmistress, I'm only doing what the Minister…"

"Enough!" Minerva snapped, her walking stick already within the palm of her hand, morphing into her wand. And as she arced her wand, it appeared as if her very hand glowed…and then the door to the Minister's office burst apart into a thousand splinters.

Two heads snapped up at the commotion, one was Kingsley, the other Lucius Malfoy. Blue eyes narrowed at the woman across the office as the Minister jumped up, "What is the meaning of this, Minerva?" His deep voice grumbling.

Minerva flipped her hand, a stack of papers jumping at Kingsley, "Lucius, don't get up." She said, momentarily drilling him with her green eyes, "I shan't be but a moment more." And then she stepped around him, hands splayed upon the desk…leaning across, "As that report is a list of the hundred and sixty-three former Hogwarts professors; the last thirty letters went out this morning."

He shook his head, "Minerva, have you gone mad, what does that report have to do with…"

"I have not received responses from eighteen percent of those persons. Lockhart went missing from St. Mungos this morning…"

"He's got no bloody memory and of no use to anyone. And truly Minerva, just because a few persons didn't respond to your correspondence does not mean that there is a problem within Britain."

"The persons not responding to their correspondences are more than mere acquaintances, and tend to respond within a day…at best two."

"Minerva you are being…"

"Before coming here, we verified three of the names on that list. Horace Slughorn, Dillon McPherson, and Margaret Myriam."

"I won't be pressured…"

"Then do your job." Minerva snapped as she stood upright.

"Stop trying to do everyone else's job, worry about your own." His voice becoming strained.

"You have four missing persons already, signs of a struggle at three of the homes…and a list of others who have been targeted. A list of professors, Minister."

"Headmistress…"

"How many more will I have to bury for your negligence, Kingsley?"

Even Lucius recoiled from her retort, but Minerva didn't wait as she turned around, fire still within her eyes. Her parting comment sending chills down Hermione's arms as she stopped in what was left of the doorway. "Do your job Minister, or as Head of Hogwarts, I will publicly proclaim support for a new Minister."

"Is that a threat, Headmistress?" His gaze smoking.

"I don't make threats, Kingsley." Minerva clipped, her eyes dropping to Malfoy, "Good day, Lucius."

"Minerva." He tilted his head in respect and she was emerald cloak billowing behind her as the quiet cyan robed woman followed. Lucius waited until the two women stepped around the corner, his voice soft, cutting. "You should listen, Minister."

Slowly Kingsley raised his eyes to the cold blue ones of Lucius, "Excuse me."

"Even the Dark Lord wouldn't willingly cross her." Lucius stood, "And I would suggest you put your personal opinion aside and conduct a proper investigation." His silken black cloak falling to the floor, "She can be a formidable adversary but also a stout proponent. And," He drew out his hat, "Even though she is a Gryffindor, she has always had everyone's best interests at heart, even mine."

_xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo_

Minerva took another deep breath as she stepped onto the atrium, she was in no mood to return to Hogwarts, but as her eyes settled on the clock above the floo networks, she sighed. Dinner was half over. "Damn." She muttered.

"Minerva?" Hermione questioned drawing up beside her and realized following the Headmistresses gaze what she was upset about. They had missed the beginning of dinner. "It's not quite half over."

"I know." Minerva's lips drew into a thin line, "However, I believe I shall be missing dinner this evening." Her eyes sliding to the floo network and then back to Hermione. The circles beneath brown eyes as prominent as the ones she had seen beneath her own and as prudent as it would be for them to return to Hogwarts; she would prefer a drink instead. "I shall, however, see you in the morning."

Concern swept through Hermione, "Aren't you returning back to Hogwarts?"

"After one more stop, dear." She stated and began striding to the floo.

"I'll come with you." Hermione replied, causing Minerva to stop and turn, gaze leveling behind her paper thin gold frames.

"That won't be necessary…" Minerva began which Hermione immediately interrupted.

"After everything that happened this evening, how can you say that?"

"I am going home for a few hours and will return to Hogwarts later this evening."

"Oh." Hermione stated, "I'm sorry, it's just that…"

"I appreciate your concern, Hermione, no matter how unwarranted. Now," She turned and then found herself pausing. Her anger and lashing out had been uncalled for, "If you care to join me, truth be told I was going for a spot of whisky."

Hermione smiled at the older woman, "After today, I shall say one drink and then I must return to the castle."

Minerva nodded, "Very well." She strode forward and then stopped again, realizing that her initial intent had been to go to the Ridge of course the Manor would suffice…but either way, Hermione would not be allowed entry via the floo network. "However, we shall need to take a different travel method."

"Then I'll just apparate us…" Hermione said reaching over to Minerva.

"To where?" Minerva asked, mildly bemused.

"Your Manor…" And despite the clarity of knowing the Manor existed and how beautiful the architecture is, she couldn't for the life of her picture where it was located. "The secret-keeper." She said in realization.

Minerva placed her hand atop Hermione's, "Yes." And then the atrium was gone and they were standing in front of the black gates to the darkened Manor, her hand leaving Hermione's and opening the Iron Gates. The effect was immediate. As soon as her hand touched the rod iron, lanterns burst to light to the left and right of the two witches…bathing the outer lawns and the path to the Manor itself in a soft effervescent glow.

"Is that part of the warding structure?" Hermione asked as they began walking to the house.

"A modification." Minerva stated feeling her hip pull as her own anger ebbed. "After I began teaching at Hogwarts. The grounds used to be kept light at all times, especially when I was growing up with the coming and goings of my parents, siblings, the clan, and of course the business. However, after…the war; it became rather quiet. And as the years went by, and the visitors dwindled, it became pointless to keep the grounds light at all times."

"Mistress." Bonnie appeared as they ascended the slate steps to the front door, "A welcome surprise." She stated, eyes sliding from Minerva to Hermione and then back.

"We missed dinner at Hogwarts."

"I will start the fire immediately…"

Minerva held up her hand, "Nothing elaborate Bonnie."

"Of course Mistress." She simply stated, "Will you be needing anything else?"

The doors to the Manor sprung open, a soft creak echoing in the almost deserted home. "Perhaps after dinner."

"Very well, Hermione?" The small house elf asked turning her head.

"No, but thank you Bonnie."

Bonnie left with a pop as they entered the Manor. Minerva easily pulling her cloak off and hat; hanging them with practiced ease upon the worn metal hooks along the foyer; Hermione quietly following suite as she wondered why they were hanging them there versus the coat closet. However, as her cloak along with Minerva's hat and cloak vanished, she believed she knew. "The hooks are charmed?"

"Yes," Minerva's eyes darting to the hooks, "To transport whatever hangs upon them to the cloak closet."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She had been shown the closet on her tour, but had never had the opportunity to utilize it as they always came during the summer months. "That's efficient."

"I believe," Minerva cleared her throat, "That I have shown you the bulk of the downstairs."

"Yes," Hermione stated, "You gave me a tour before."

Minerva nodded, "I did, however, I thought I would give you the unofficial tour as it were." She dropped her walking stick to the ground, mentally hoping that Bonnie and the other house elves had had enough time since their last visit to the Manor to pull the sheets and blankets from the furniture upstairs, and dust the rooms. "Though forgive me for not taking you to the cellar. It has little scenic value as that is where the wines, scotch, whisky and other beverages are stored; it is also home to a fresh water spring and the kitchens."

Hermione nodded, "Perhaps next time." Her eyes swept to the grand staircase, "Are there any other rooms downstairs?"

"No." She replied walking forward, hand falling onto the large walnut banister. "However, there are quite a few rooms upstairs."

Hermione needed no further prompting as she ascended the steps next to Minerva, noting that her gait was becoming more labored. "Do you need a pain potion?" Hermione couldn't help in asking.

"No," Minerva said as her knuckles turned white from the pressure she applied as she gripped the banister, "I took one a short time ago."

"Then it doesn't seem to be working." Hermione stated as they continued up the stairs, bypassing the second floor.

"Unfortunately, it is." Minerva stepped off the last step and onto the third floor hallway, which was decorated by family portraits…including one that held a younger Albus, Minerva, and their four children nestled between them as teenagers. Beneath that portrait, four smaller ones existed; one of each of her children's families. "This…" The hallway light up in its entirety, "Is a pictorial representation of families and their descendents who have lived at the Manor."

Hermione's eyes darted from one picture to the next, stopping on the one just to the right of Minerva's family portrait. "Are those your parents?" She asked, eyes leveled at a stout, middle-aged wizard with thinning brown hair and a goatee with strands of grey interspersed as his green eyes twinkled behind silver frames arm securely wrapped around a thin, regal looking woman with raven black hair, blue eyes and high cheek bones. Two young men sat in front of the wizard, one she immediately recognized as Derrick, the other…a strapping man who was perhaps twenty, with long golden brown hair tied back, an easy grin spread across his lips as green eyes burst with life…and mischief…and nestled between the two brothers was their sister, a much younger representation of the woman standing beside her. Her posture erect…and yet…relaxed, not at all like the one she used now…perhaps the most startling difference was how expressive her face was. Her joy readily apparent on her features, and then the picture shifted…

Minerva was leaning back against her two brothers, gaily laughing as they began commenting on the length of time the whole process was taking…her father berating all of them as her mother shook her head…and then demurely called Meric's name and upon turning she captured his lips in a searing kiss. Which caused all three children to groan that at their current rate it would be another five hours…

"Yes." Minerva said, remembering that afternoon. "Meric and Katherine McGonagall and my two brothers, Derrick and Callum."

"Callum?" Hermione questioned, turning to Minerva.

"Albus and I chose to name our youngest son after my eldest brother."

"When was the picture taken?" Hermione inquired glancing back to the family portrait.

"Over the Christmas holidays, my seventh year." Minerva's voice becoming soft, "It was the last time we would all be together at the Manor. Callum was killed the following June."

"I'm sorry." Hermione stated.

A gentle smile spread across Minerva's face, "Don't be. It was a lifetime ago." Minerva turned to the right, "I am merely thankful that Mother and Father insisted that we have our family portrait done that winter. Of course, at the time, all of us had other things we were more interested in doing."

"How long did it end up taking to paint?" Hermione asked, her eyes scanning several other portraits as they made their way to the lone door amidst the hundred frames.

"Just over eleven hours." Minerva said as she opened the door, lanterns jumping to life. "This is the Master Bedroom." She stated, eyes sweeping across the room she had not set foot in for years…it looked as it had the last time she had entered.

Hermione stepped in…and felt her jaw plunge to the floor. The bedroom was enormous. It had the same vaulted ceilings, mahogany crown molding, shining wooden floors that the rest of the home had but the carving upon the crown molding was just slightly more detailed. The walls were creamy linen, with purples and green accents spread throughout…

A bed half again the size of a king bed rest against the side wall, large bay windows stretched to the right side of the bed…and even from the doorway, Hermione could see the soft light glowing from the lanterns outside.

"This has a gorgeous view during the day." Minerva stated.

"I'm sure." Hermione said, "But…" She noticed the large vanity…engraved dressers…two wardrobes, a small table and two chairs nestled on the opposite wall as the bed; and two doorways on either side of the room. "You don't stay here often, do you?"

Minerva's face remained impassive, "No."

Hermione elaborated, "It's beautiful, but it lacks your personal touches."

"Several of the items are removed from Hogwarts during the summer and brought here," Minerva stated, covering the obvious truth.

Hermione nodded, silently wondering why there were no pictures upon the walls and every surface in the room held no personal items. Minerva motioned for her exit, "And now downstairs."

"There aren't any other rooms upstairs?"

A quaint smile spread across Minerva's face, "In due time." She simply stated, retracing their earlier path and stopping upon the second floor where she veered to the right of the staircase. There were six bedrooms, two of the bedrooms had bathrooms off of them the other four shared another bathroom along the floor. They were large, spacious…and Hermione had to wonder where the other two rooms off the Master Suite went to. She imagined one went to a bathroom of some sort, the other a closet? Whatever those rooms were upstairs, were equivalent to the space of half of the wing of the Manor.

Again Minerva retraced her steps, but instead of going downstairs, she walked to the other side of the hallway. "I believe this will be your favorite room by far." Minerva stated as she opened the door.

Hermione had been dumbfounded by the Master suite, but…even its splendor could not compare to the grandeur of the room before her.

"This is the McGonagall library." Minerva stated stepping into the room, a fire sprang to life in the grate as dozens of lanterns began glowing upon the lower floor…throwing light upward…

Enabling Hermione to truly see how large the room was. The library spanned two stories, a hallway circling what she was sure marked the third story of the house. Old fashioned wooden ladders were connected to a railing system that stretched around the room, granting access to the thousands of books lining the shelves that circled the room in its entirety, both floors had fourteen shelves per case.

High above was an entirely glass roof, stars twinkling against the black night. Hermione heard Minerva's walking stick striking the ground, bringing her back to reality, her gaze turning to the noise to see several golden brown leather chairs, matching ottomans and two sofas with end tables beside each piece of furniture…and a small wooden cabinet behind the far sofa, facing the fireplace…which was when Hermione noticed the large tapestry hanging above the mantle, depicting a white tree…with names upon the branches.

"Is this your family tree?" Hermione asked, eyes sweeping over the fabric that stretched upwards to the next floor.

"Yes." Minerva said as she too stared at the all too familiar tapestry as her fingers deftly pulled two tumblers from within the cabinet.

Hermione walked forward, the shadows of the fire flickering across the massive tapestry, "How many generations does it go back?"

"I believe if you glance to the second one up from the bottom to the left, you'll find a recognizable name." Minerva pulled the cap from the silver labeled bottle.

Hermione's eyes scanned over, heart stopping at the name, "Edgar Meric Merlyn." She murmured eyes absorbing the date of his birth and death, head snapping around. "As in Merlin."

"The one and the same." Minerva said as she started pouring the second glass. "And if you were to grasp the ladder to the left of you, and go up about six steps to the left of the tapestry and six and a half steps to the right you'll find two other names you would recognize."

Hermione strained her eyes, eager to see who she was referring, "Rowena Ravenclaw?"

Minerva shook her head, "Right time frame, wrong person." Minerva stated stepping forward.

"Godric and…" Her head snapped to the right, "Surely not Salazar…"

"Helga." Minerva said handing Hermione a drink.

"You have two of the Founders…" She could just make out their names on either side of the tree, "In your family tree?"

"If you trace up Helga's line, her direct descendents have all died. Godric's became merged much later with a strand from Merlyn's and survives…"

"To you."

"And the children."

"Are you the last ones?"

"Along Godric's line, yes. However there are still descendents through both Merlyn's and his sister Morgana's line alive."

Hermione took a step backwards, head falling back to take in the expanse of the tree. "Is this a self perpetuating tree?"

"Yes." Minerva raised her eyes to the worn fabric, "And it accounts for every person married and born into the lineage. No matter their blood or magical capabilities."

"So it even tracks muggles or…"

"Squibs." Minerva finished taking a swallow, "Which often become muggle, but on occasion you'll see a magical person born several generations up the lineage."

"And your name?" Hermione asked.

Minerva smiled, eyes scanning the tree… "First you would want to see whose name is blue, that indicates they are alive and of magic. Once deceased, those with magic turn white. Vibrant yellow indicates a squib, while…" She pointed to one of Morgana's children, Elaine, whose name was a pastel yellow. "A soft orange indicates a squib who has died. And green indicates a muggle, while…"

"Brown means they have died."

"Yes. Now…" Minerva pointed to the third floor, "My family line is along left upper branches of the tapestry."

Hermione nodded, "How often do you look at this?" Eyes darting across the top, seeing a handful of green and yellows amongst the blue.

"As I have grown older…" Minerva walked back to the cabinet, refilling her glass, "Not nearly as often."

The reason was clear, it was a calloused way that showed the passing of her family…names that had suddenly gone white. Hermione knew this evening was not the time, but she wanted to see how many of Minerva's family had died during Grindlewald's reign, and what better way than glancing at an encompassing family tree. She was also mildly curious to see if there were any other descendants whom she knew. "Voldemort had sought items from the Founders…why did he not come, here?"

"There are not many of my clan who remain alive that were descended from this tree. And as my clan relatively has always kept to itself, our lineage is not widely known. Besides, he was seeking objects that belonged to the Founders; what remains within the clan are texts and journals by both Godric and Helga; nothing more."

"You have books written by the Founders?" Hermione absently took a drink.

"Several. You are welcome to read them, however, I cannot permit them to be removed from the Manor unless it is to my chambers at Hogwarts."

"You'se dinner." Bonnie's voice cutting through the air, "Is served."

Minerva gave a nod, "We'll be down momentarily."

"It's be waiting and warm." Bonnie said as she blinked away.

"Shall we…" Minerva said pointing to the door.

"I can't help but feel envious, Minerva." Hermione said casting a look back to the rows of books…books she wished to sit by the fire and read…every single last one of them and then she recalled an earlier conversation between them, "A wee bit larger…" She said as they stepped out of the library and into the hallway, "Talk about an understatement."

"It is just a bit larger than the one at my office." Minerva replied as Hermione's laughter rung off the walls.

_OOoxoxoxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Their dinner was punctuated by conversation about the Minister and how both thought he would respond as they ate roasted duck with orange glaze, wild rice and sautéed vegetables.

Bonnie had inquired if either would be having dessert, both readily declined stating that their dinner had been delicious but filling.

"Besides," Hermione finished the last of her tea, "I should return to Hogwarts."

Minerva sighed, "As should I." She stood, the pain in her hip catching, causing her to lean forward, fingers gripping the side of the table.

"Minerva!" Hermione immediately stepping around the chairs, hands ready to catch the swaying woman whose white knuckle grip of the table worried Hermione even further.

"It'll pass." Minerva ground out, forcing her leg down, knowing the pain was that a piece of bone was working its way out from her muscle and interfering with the ball joint.

"Is there nothing to be done?" Hermione asked as Minerva gingerly straightened again, her own hands falling to her sides.

"Helena will be able to remove the bone fragment tomorrow and I'll be good as new." Minerva placing a lot of weight upon her other leg as she walked.

"How often does this happen?" Hermione gliding along beside her, trying not to notice Minerva's obvious discomfort.

"It has only happened a handful of times. My body has absorbed most of the bone fragments."

"Has Helena detected any correlation as to what causes the fragments to emerge versus other times?"

Minerva placed her hand upon the door frame, "Stress." She stated simply, "The more stress my body is under, the weaker the area and the more susceptible it becomes to fragments emerging."

"And you not sleeping…"

Minerva shook her head, "I did not come here this evening to argue about my health Hermione, but to unwind from my day."

Hermione began walking to the front of the house, "I'll grab you cloak and hat." She stated calling backwards.

Minerva grimaced leaning forward, beginning to make her way to the drawing room. "First door to the right of the entry." She called out, hating the momentary feeling of helplessness. And hating the notion that it would only be getting worse as the year wore on. She would need to find something other than a standard pain potion for her hip…

Hermione pulled open the door and frowned at the set of steps heading downward. She hadn't remembered steps. At once, she descended them…the air becoming cooler, and the smell…of leather tomes, parchment, ink…a light came on and she knew instantly she was not in the coat room.

Unlike the library upstairs, this one was close…with tables that had several papers laying on top with a variety of writing scrawled across the papers. She could even detect some of Minerva's familiar scrawl. Her eyes scanned the binding of some of the books, and…

_Her father's Arthimancy. _She realized at the dates along the binding, along with a few other titles regarding Marriage ceremonies, Bonding, Connections of life through death…

Heart hammering in her chest she took a hesitant step backwards, but paused…momentarily thinking of taking one of Meric's texts, but then the light flickered and she thought better of it. _I'll just have to find a way to come back here, _Hermione thought as she scampered back up the steps, _alone._

With great speed, Hermione closed the door and found the closet, their two cloaks and Minerva's hat and made her way back down the hallway and through the door to the drawing room as Minerva stopped in front of the Mantle by the fire and floo powder.

Both witches flooed into the Headmistress' office, several of the portraits eager to know what the outcome of their evening was, but also knew they would have to wait to ask until after Hermione's departure.

"Thank you for going with me this evening, Hermione." Minerva stated as she took her cloak and hat from Hermione and banished it to her rooms.

"Are you sure you would not like Poppy to look at your hip this evening?"

Minerva could feel a hundred pairs of eyes descend upon her, including her husband's. "Quite. I shall see Helena tomorrow."

"Very well, but please do try and get some sleep this evening."

Minerva smiled, "Of course. Good night, Hermione."

"And to you." She replied, satisfied that Minerva was going to get some sleep tonight. _How could Minerva not get some sleep?_ Hermione wondered stating goodnight to several of the portraits as she walked by and into the gargoyle. _She was exhausted from her day, surely Minerva was too._

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo

_A/N: Glad to be back and here is another bit; thank you for kind words from those who reviewed the last couple chapters however, interest seems to be waning and if you are still enjoying please drop a note –_


	26. Chapter 25 October 26th, 2009

_A/N: Big hugs and thank yous to everyone for your wonderful words –_

_So…here is my way of saying THANK YOU!!!_

**Chapter 25 ~ October 26****th**** 2009 (Monday)**

Hermione tiredly blinked at the scrap of parchment sitting on her dresser, disbelieving. Minerva hadn't slept more than two hours again last night; for a sum total of five hours in three days.

She had been concerned last week when she and Filius had talked. Even more concerned when Elgin had given her times on how long she had slept last Tuesday evening; for she had slept just over an hour and a half for the whole of the night.

But after seeing the past week's sleep patterns, Hermione had gone from concerned to downright alarmed. One out of six nights Minerva had slept for more than four hours, the rest under two and Saturday night barely one.

She didn't want to divulge to Minerva that she had been tracking her sleep patterns, if one could call it that. But…she also didn't want to speak with Helena about it either. However, she was going to have to speak with one of them and soon…before Minerva passed out from exhaustion alone.

Granted, since last Wednesday morning, there hadn't been an ounce of outward evidence that Minerva was tired…no circles beneath her eyes, haggard appearance…wondering attention. Quite the opposite was the case, which worried Hermione even farther, because that meant she was taken an extreme amount of potions to function.

Sighing, she made her way to the bathroom; she had to get ready for the day, and what was going to account for a very busy week. Friday was the staff's all Hallows Eve party, and there was a banquet planned for the children…the last week of quidditch practices before Ravenclaw and Slytherin squared off on the pitch this coming Saturday. And then there were her practices.

Filius had been true to his word; and they had practices relentlessly every night, even if she had practiced with Minerva. Which happened on Thursday and last night; her muscles still protesting from their overuse as the water rippled across her skin.

And it seemed as though Minerva knew she was practicing with Filius; as she worked more on the practical application of perceptive movement and Filius the theory. Granted, she had probably asked him to help…but…

She tipped her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm shower coursing through her hair.

_There just weren't enough hours in the day,_ she thought as she ran her hand across her face. She had been lucky this weekend was not one with the children, enabling her and Ron to have a lengthy conversation about what to do with Rose and Hugo; and their protection. They opted to keep their current arrangement, giving portkeys to her parents and connecting it to the floo network in case of any emergencies.

As for the other members of the Order, Saturday morning had been long indeed as strategies for everyone's safety was discussed. Especially those residing at Hogwarts. And the importance of the meeting showed as all of the members had shown, including both Filius and Minerva which had not happened since the start of the school year.

In addition that morning, Kingsley had publically proclaimed that the wizarding world was being threatened by Johannes Harkiss. Hermione had noticed that the story had been done by Milan Peoples, and it showed as it remained unbiased and straightforward story regarding both the Minister's proclamation and the past three months of news that had been rumored to be a correlation.

There still remained no news regarding the missing persons; the list made available to all of the order, including her. Minerva had corresponded with a hundred and thirty-eight of the hundred and sixty-three ex-Hogwarts professors. Twenty-five persons were missing; and the Ministry had checked…all of their homes had been broken into and ransacked.

She absently turned the water off as she recalled the conversation over lunch on Saturday with Harry, Ginny and George regarding the utter lack of leads they had and how they needed to be more proactive and less reactive.

Wrapping the towel around herself, Hermione stepped into her bedroom, the Prophet's morning owl dropping off her paper as it eagerly scooped up its treat left upon her desk. Curious as to what Ministry story regarding Harkiss would be splattered across the front, she flipped open the paper…

Hermione felt her stomach plummet at the headline…and as she scanned the pictures, felt her ears turning pink at the sight. There was a picture of her and Ron, understandable. But beneath it was one of Ron and Fresca kissing, she was sure it was at the quidditch exposition game; and beside it was her kissing Ian McGreggor.

"Just bloody great." Hermione said dropping the paper onto the bed.

_Xoxoxoxooxxoxoxooxoxoxxoxooxoxoxoxoxx_

Minerva frowned at the Headlines and the pictures as she squinted her eyes to read the now damnably small print.

**Golden Couple Crumbles** was bold with a picture of Ron and Hermione shortly after they were married with a jagged line drawn between them. Minerva scanned farther down the paper, catching phrases and stopped at the pictures and knew that today would be a long one indeed.

"Elgin."

"Mistress." He stated handing her back her usual glasses.

"Thank you." Minerva said flipping them open and placing them on her face, the words snapping into focus. "Also, please close the floo networks to the school today."

"Mistress?"

"I will have several unhappy parents trying to contact me, and I'd prefer a letter versus a yelling fire call."

Elgin nodded, "At once." He pulled the small report from behind his back, "You'se report, Mistress."

"Will you also please inform Bonnie that Hermione and I will be going to the Manor for dinner?"

Elgin couldn't help the smile cross his face, "At once, Mistress."

"And try not to stay too long, she'll grumble if you do." Minerva said to the suddenly blushing house elf.

"I's theres a special occasion, Mistress?" Elgin asked knowing that the Mistress rarely spent time away from Hogwarts during the year, and to go to the Manor was most unusual.

Minerva's eyes stopped reading, finger holding her spot as she met his yellow gaze, "Just helping a friend who is going to have a difficult day." Her eyes dropped back to her detail of last evening's events, mirth lining her voice as she spoke. "Now…go change and see Bonnie."

_Oxoxoxxoxxooxoxxoxooxxoxoxooxoxxoxo_

Hermione dropped her head in her hands as the door closed, the last of her third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws having left. She had one more lesson today; seventh years.

An owl chirped as it flew in through the window, and she dreaded the envelope within its talons. She had received thirty-seven letters and six howlers so far, and it was just before two. A few had been letters of support from family and friends; a dozen plus were from wizards already professing their unending devotion and love; two letters from witches professing similar decrees of devotion, the rest less than congenial notes from witches around Britain feeling she should never have married Ron in the first place; she was a trollop.

Sighing, Hermione handed the owl an orange biscuit which he happily accepted before spreading his wings and flying away. The letter sitting in front of her, and with a heavy heart, she slit the seal...and was pleasantly surprised.

_Hermione,_

_I know we haven't spoken much since your birthday, dear – but I wanted you to know that my thoughts are with you. I am sure that with the current Ministry foibles, you and Ron will stop being headline news within no time._

_Enclosed is another picture from your birthday, one I thought would bring back slightly better memories than the one in the Prophet._

_Perhaps this coming weekend you can spring free, and yes, please bring my niece and nephew, for an evening in London. My treat._

_Love,  
George_

Hermione flipped the picture over and laughed. It was a picture taken of her hexing George…his body morphing into a weasel and back…both George and Hermione laughing at the other in the picture.

_Oxoxoxoxoxooxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_

Minerva pinched the bridge of her noise as the Howler dissolved.

"That's the third one this hour." Filius said leaning back, rubbing his ear from the overbearing screech of the woman's voice.

"And the eleventh one since lunch." Minerva said, sighing. "Now, where were we?"

Filius dropped his eyes to his list of items; they had finished the last one just before the howler had arrived. "I don't have anything else, do you?"

"Nothing official." Minerva said as she leaned back. "Do you have a few minutes?"

Filius nodded, "Of course, Minerva."

"I know what you are trying to do Filius, and I thank you. But…" She sighed, "It is unnecessary."

"When you stop using Glamour Charms to hide the circles beneath your eyes, it shall be unnecessary."

"Filius…"

He shook his head, "Whether you admit it or not, I know you haven't been sleeping since your birthday; which has been four weeks. And I have no doubt it is affecting your magical abilities; as you have even begun to floo to the Ministry or St. Mungos."

Minerva went on to explain what had happened that evening in the Forest…the Hukbar, and how she had relived five sets of memories, including the one regarding Esmerele; and the subsequent drain upon her magical stores.

"How long?" Filius' voice rising, dreading her answer.

"Perhaps August."

"Are you…August?" He squeaked. "That's less than a year!"

"It appears that this will be my last year as the Headmistress." She calmly replied.

"Minerva!" He stood, hands animatedly swinging at his sides, "How can you be so callous? We're talking about your life?"

"I've had a few weeks to adjust to the notion."

Realization struck his countenance, "You knew when Percival and Audrey…" He drew in a deep breath, "You haven't told them."

She shook her head, "No."

"And you aren't…"

"Not until after the next time my magic drops."

"Minerva…"

"I have far too many other things to worry about, Filius. One being finding either a successor or you a Deputy."

"I never wanted the job of the Headmaster."

"Nor I the Headmistress, but you need to know and be prepared that I may not make the end of the school year…"

"Surely…Minerva, now you jest."

"As my magic weakens, I may not be able to perform my necessary duties as the Head of Hogwarts…"

Filius paused in front of his long time friend, taking her hand within his. Gold eyes warming as they stared into emerald ones. "Then I shall perform them, and you…" He patted her hand, "Will remain as you are now, the Headmistress."

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxooxoxxoxo_

Minerva quietly jumped onto the ledge, her eyes narrowing as the students filed one by one out of the room. She watched as Arthur Oakes _accidentally_ dropped his bag, as he stalled for time, telling his friends that he would be along in a few minutes. She lifted her head; Hermione was speaking with Lily Michaels and utterly clueless that the young man had an apparent crush upon his Transfiguration teacher.

And as the seconds ticked by, Minerva watched as Arthur's shoulders dropped…realizing that his professor would be with Lily for a few more minutes than he could make stretch out and grudgingly jammed the last of his books into his bag.

Hermione gave him a gentle smile, before quickly returning her attention upon the young woman and her question regarding…animagus training? Minerva leaned forward, tipping her ears a bit more, enabling her to hear the words, and she felt her face draw downward, as much as one's could in an animagus state.

Lily was proclaiming her desire to learn how to be an animagus, and asking if Hermione would be willing to become her tutor…

Which Minerva didn't have a problem with, however, she knew of Lily's prior grades in the subject and her skill level; Willard's above average grades had been generous. It would seem Hermione had more than one admirer amongst the seventh years, all of whom were flocking for her attention now that she was divorced.

She was about to lay down, waiting for young Miss Michaels to leave, but at hearing Hermione begin to dither and actually consider training her…as an animagus… She yawned deeply before falling backwards from the window, returning to her human state and apparating to the outside of Hermione's classroom door before she had fallen one floor.

The door eased open, both women turning to see the Headmistress enter. "Ahh, Professor Granger, Miss Michaels. Good afternoon."

Hermione felt relieved at Minerva's arrival. She hadn't wanted to dash Lily's enthusiasm, but...animagus training was a serious commitment. "Perhaps you can be of assistance, Headmistress." She stated stepping closer to Minerva, "We were speaking of animagus training, young Miss Michaels was interested in pursuing that aspect of Transfiguration."

Minerva could easily detect Hermione's unease, perhaps she did realize that young Michaels had a slight crush upon her. For a moment, she met Hermione's gaze and thought of leaving her to handle the young woman, but the day had probably been arduous as it was. "I will not authorize anyone to begin training as an animagus unless they have received an Outstanding in their Owls and in any subsequent class. The risks to the student and the professor are too profound, I'm sorry Miss Michaels. If you truly wish to pursue becoming an animagus, I'd suggest you do so during your apprenticeship with a Transfiguration Master."

Lily felt her hopes at being able to spend some quality time with her professor without any other persons around disintegrate, "Thank you for your time and insight Professor McGonagall." She turned back to her professor, "Thank you for your consideration, Professor."

Hermione waited until Lily stepped through the door, and with a wave of her wand, the door closed and a silencing charm blanketed the room. "You have impeccable timing, Minerva."

"She is rather taken with you." Minerva said, a twinkle within her eye, "As is young Mister Oakes."

Hermione's jaw dropped, ears turning pink. "No." She shook her head, "No." And as Minerva chuckled at her expression, she asked, "Really?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes, quite."

"How do you know? Arthur? He's so shy." Hermione said, astounded. "Are you sure?"

Minerva's light chuckle turned into an outright laugh, "Yes. I was a professor for some time, and have long since learned the subtle signs of infatuation…" She nodded to the window, "I had come in for the last part of class."

"I didn't see you," Hermione frowned, realizing. "You came in your animagus state."

"I did as I had a few minutes to spare and wanted to speak with you after your last class."

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked partially dreading the response.

"For the apparent moment." Minerva replied, "But I was hoping you would be able to join me this evening."

Hermione nodded, "Of course, where are we going?"

"After everything that happened today, I thought you might want a break from the castle for a few hours."

On the surface, the notion of being away from prying eyes and gossip for even a few hours sounded wonderful. But there was no place she could go that didn't offer the same type of venue but also including reporters. "As ideal as that sounds, I don't believe that is a good idea."

Minerva smiled at Hermione's trepidation, "Even to the Manor?"

_Xoxoxoxooxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Helena reached back, fingers gently kneading the muscles along her neck as she stared at the latest casualty report. One she would be forwarding on to Minerva this evening. They had found two more of the missing persons…in less than savory states. Their bodies had been bent backwards; their backs snapped…it looked to have been caused by the crucio curse. She would know more after the autopsy. What concerned her regarding the two wizards, was that they had found their families too – dead.

The stakes had just been raised, and Helena dreaded what that meant for the wizarding world…and her friend, who had taken to casting Glamour charms to hide her fatigue.

Helena had been worried that Minerva would have a difficult time adjusting to life after the Hukbar, and from the gradual decay of her stamina, she had been correct. Last week when Minerva had come in for her to extract the protruding bone fragment, she had taken the opportunity to run a few tests while Minerva had been unconscious. Including dissolving the Glamour charm…

Helena had been shocked at the dark lines beneath Minerva's eyes and how her cheekbones were slowly sinking. Part of the cause was that Minerva had lost ten pounds; not to discount that her magic had fallen an additional two percent and the tissue around her hip joint had to be partially re-grown.

"Helena." Michael stepped into her office, "Harry Potter just brought in one of the missing professors. Alive."

Helena dropped her report, scrambling around her desk as she peeled off her glasses, "Who?"

Michael's face was obscured as he answered, "We can't tell yet."

"You have the list, along with their pictures…" Helena jogging next to the man.

"He doesn't have a face left…" Michael's stated as she entered the outer room into the emergency ward, close to a dozen healers scampering around the room.

Helena's mask didn't budge as she rounded the corner, her mind affixed to the healer's mode. "And Potter, is he alright?"

"He's," Michael's pointed to the left of the emergency ward, "Being scanned."

Helena strode past him, it wouldn't do for Harry to be hurt. She already had enough bad news to impart to Minerva. The door sprang aside, her eyes immediately scanning across the young wizard. "Harry."

The black haired wizard's head snapped up, a tired smile gracing his face, "Healer Harrison."

"I'll finish up." Helena stated to the young healer.

Charles nodded, "Yes, Ma'am."

Helena waited until the door closed after him, "Do you know who you found?"

Harry shook his head, face curling into a frown. "Haven't a clue. Had gone to investigate a disturbance call and…there was a witch bent over the body. She fired three curses and apparated away."

Helena pulled her glasses back out, eyes scanning down his body.

"I wasn't hit, and besides, don't you need a wand to see…"

"Shhhh." Helena's face twisted, "I used to." She admitted as she narrowed her eyes, "But over the years I have become rather adept at healing." Her hand coming up to his left arm, "How long ago were you struck by paralyzing curse?"

"Two years…how'd ya know?"

Helena pulled her wand from the inside of her robes, and placed her left hand upon the muscle. "Why haven't you said anything?"

"I can't feel that anything's wrong." Harry muttered as he felt the heat from her hand through his robes.

"That's because it's still paralyzed." She retorted, "No wonder why Minerva is so taken with you."

"Taken…?" Harry questioned, a tingling feeling beginning to spread in his fingers. "Ahhh…"

"Yes," Helena replied, "And you with her. Now, back to the other wizard," She flicked her wand a few times while mumbling beneath her breath. "Where were you when you found the wizard?"

"Near Edinburgh."

"South or west?" She asked, feeling a bead of perspiration pool at the base of her neck.

"West." He stated, teeth involuntarily clenching, "Perhaps it was better not to feel my upper arm." He groaned out.

"There." She peeled her hand away, "It'll tingle for a day perhaps two." She walked over to the cart along the wall pulling the second drawer open and a yellow vial out. "And…" She tossed it towards him, "Drink this tonight before going to bed."

He caught it in one swift move, "Alright." He stated as she opened the door, "Who lives to the west of Edinburgh?"

"Adam Brunt." She said, arm holding the door opened.

Harry frowned, "Brunt…" He thought back to the list distributed by Minerva on Saturday. "Taught Arthimancy in the forties. Does the Headmistress know him?" Harry asked slipping off the bed.

"He was a friend of her father's." Helena said, "Now, if you'll excuse me Harry."

Harry felt himself nod as Helena stepped from the room and into the one beside him, even through the clear glass, he could hear her issuing orders…

He needed to go back to the Ministry and file his report, but…he found he couldn't take his eyes off the Administrator of St. Mungos. She was so sure of herself, much like the Headmistress in the art of Transfiguration.

He watched as the other healers stepped aside and she cast an enormous white bubble that shot from her wand…wrapping about the man and then a blood curling scream shook the glass...the bubble wavering and the other healers in the room stepped farther away from both Helena and the wizard as the tip of her wand began glowing…and even from this distance, he could see the lines of sweat running down her jaw.

Another scream reverberated off the walls, and the white bubble…began to turn black around his face, above his chest…and the interior of the bubble began turning ashen…

Helena's arm began shaking as the bubble continued blackening…and Harry found his legs bringing him through the door and quickly into the other room…but before he could take another step forward, an iron clad hand clamped around his arm. "Stay."

"What's she doing?"

The healer leaned over, his words barely reaching Harry's ears. "Trying to pull the curses from his body…"

"With what…"

"Let's hope you gave her enough information that it got his name right." The healer dropped his hand, "As it is a spell based upon knowing the name of the person and their magical signatures…"

"Where did she learn that?" He asked as Helena's wand and both arms had become suddenly very still.

"She has studied all over the world…" He whispered, "Even with the Goblins."

"Really…?"

The healer nodded, "She announced that she would be taking on an apprentice starting at the beginning of this coming year, she had over five thousand resumes come in."

"She's never trained anyone before?" Harry asked and Helena's jaw flexed…and with a cry out she jerked her arms to the left…a thunderous crack resonated through the room as the bubble burst and sparks flew from her wand striking into the marble, scorching the white floor obsidian black.

Helena crumpled to the floor, voice weak from exhaustion. "Get Merryweather." She breathed out, as two sets of hands helped her to her feet. "We need him to use legimancy to find out what he knows, and start the skin growth on his face and lower back."

The healer on to the right of Harry turned to face him shaking his head, "No, she hasn't."

_Xoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxox_

Ryklar felt his hooves give way, the ground impacting against his chest as a wizard stepped into view, the one from Minerva's memory. He felt his anger pulse and despite the wizarding rope about his back legs he scrambled forward…fingers deftly notching the arrow as he rocked his body to the side…

The wizard's eyes growing large…

Ryklar let the tension fly from his bow, the arrow flying straight and true…

A red bolt striking Ryklar's broad torso…cries of pain ringing off the trees…joined by the moans of a wizard…

"Where are they?" Johannes screeched as he knelt by the centaur, rage burning in his black eyes.

Ryklar felt the curse lift and he sagged against his bonds, "You are too late…" He spat the last word, "Wizard."

"You can't have hidden all of your young, where are they?!"

Ryklar's rich laugh echoed off the glade, "Where darkness shall never fall."

"Crucio…" Johannes spat, anger driving the curse causing Ryklar's body to bend…and twist…

Ryklar's voice died away as his eyes remain fixed to the stars, the pain in his body leaving…and for a moment the sky seemed to hold all the answers that had been withheld from him for the past several months…

_Frienze had been right about the fall of Venus in Jupiter's wake_, but as his vision wavered hope filled his breast, _there was star rising behind Mars and if he wasn't mistaken, it was Titan…Jupiter's moon…casting a brilliant light before Venus…and pulling Venus forward…_

_Perhaps Venus wouldn't fall after all…_he idly thought, peace entering his soul at the notion…

And then his world went black.

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Hermione stepped off the gargoyle and into Minerva's office to a flurry of voices.

"Is Harry alright?" Minerva asked to the fire.

"Yes." The fatigue evident in Helena's voice. "But I don't know if Adam is going to survive."

Several of the Headmasters and Headmistresses murmured at the news. Adam had been a good teacher during a trying time.

"Can he talk?"

"No, I've got Merryweather with him now." Helena sighed, "Minerva, even if he does live…they peeled the skin from his face."

Minerva balked, "Are you sure it's him?"

"Yes."

"And his family?" Minerva swallowed to keep her stomach down.

"Harry is taking members of the Order to where he had been. With luck…"

"I will hope, but if you found him in such a state, I don't believe his family is alive."

"Nor do I." Helena agreeing as she took a sip of water. "You should know that Tenison and Bridgewater were found, as were their families."

Hermione couldn't stop her gasp as she placed a hand to her mouth.

"I thought you said you were alone?" Helena frowning.

"Hermione just arrived," Minerva stated, "Any idea how they were killed?"

"Preliminary, both Tenison and Bridgewater through the crucio curse. I'll know more in the morning."

"I'll have some food sent over."

"I'm not overly hungry."

"That's my line." Minerva leaned back, "Elgin will be over shortly."

"I'll let you know what happens." Helena stated head turning to the side, "I'm sorry about your rather public divorce Hermione."

"In comparison, it seems rather trivial." Hermione replied.

"Having the world know of your personal business is anything but trivial. Hermione…Minerva." She stated nodding to both women and then the flames returned to normal.

Minerva remained motionless for a moment, and then turned back around…pulling a list from her top drawer. "This is a list of the witches or wizards who have worked either as a professor or upon the grounds at Hogwarts." She stated as she placed it before her and then picked her quill from the ink pot. Her eyes scanning down the page and stopping at Marcus Tenison's name, drawing a line through his name and writing the date beside it. She proceeded to do the same upon finding Vincent Bridgewater's.

She let the paper fall from her fingers as she put the quill back, "Are you ready?"

"Do you still want to go?" Hermione couldn't help but feel another wave of sorrow for the Headmistress.

Minerva paused as she glanced up to Hermione, the light glinting off her lenses. "We will bury far more than that by the time these dark days are over. Besides, I would hate to insight Bonnie's wrath." She stood up, "Come, let us go."

Hermione chuckled, "Very well."

Minerva stepped forward, fingers lightly touching the other woman's hand and the walls of her office were immediately replaced with the soft glow of the Manor's grounds.

"It's so peaceful here." Hermione breathed as the gates opened.

Minerva paused, turning to Hermione…and then looked upon the grounds as if looking through Hermione's eyes. Eyes that hadn't seen so much death upon these very lawns…but with fresh eyes; and she found herself nodding. "Yes." She whispered, momentarily embracing the beauty and serenity of the aged grounds. "It is."

Dinner was a quiet affair. Neither witch stating much, both lost in their own thoughts. Minerva reflecting on the news she had been given by Helena; the death of two more families…two more professors…and Adam. Dear Merlin…they had taken Adam…and killed Victoria. She quietly folded her napkin, setting it onto the plate, fingers wrapping around her wine glass as her eyes refocused upon the woman opposite of her. "I'm sorry, I haven't been one for company this evening."

Hermione's own gaze lifted, "Neither have I." She stated with a gentle smile as she scooped up the last of the crab augratin onto her fork. "How well did you know the professors they found today?"

Minerva swirled the red wine in her glass, eyes dropping to the liquid for a moment as memories passed before her eyes. Memories of Vincent Bridgewater laughing as Albus toasted he and his wife, Becca, to their fortieth anniversary… "I met Vincent the spring of 55; when I accepted a position here as the Defense professor." She lifted her eyes up, "I only knew Marcus through brief contacts at Hogwarts functions as he had retired prior to my attending Hogwarts. And Adam…" Her voice drifted off as she absently took a sip of wine, "Since childhood." She cleared her throat, pushing the memories aside, "He was an Arthimancier who was a colleague and friend to my father."

Hermione swallowed her food, "I'm sorry." She stated, eyes portraying her sympathy. "You could have gone to St. Mungos…"

"Helena will contact me." Minerva stated, her cadence returning to normal, "As she cannot stand having me underfoot whilst working. And he will be with healers well into tomorrow if he survives the night." She finished the last of her wine, "I will see him as soon as possible."

"Do you have any idea why Johannes is choosing ex-professors?" Hermione finishing off her wine, and reached for the bottle. "More?"

Minerva pondered the notion as Hermione's fingers curled around the bottle, "As long as we move to ballroom." Minerva stated.

"Then we are practicing…" Hermione poured an ample amount into both her and Minerva's glass. "As life must go on."

"Yes, it must." Minerva replied standing, "Shall we?"

Hermione grasped her glass, standing too. "Not much time for digestion."

Minerva chuckled as she walked through the door, "Perhaps."

Emerald robes were already disappearing through the door leading into the ballroom as Hermione stepped into the hall. _Her hip must be feeling better, _Hermione thought following and entered the large, spacious room. Minerva was standing, framed in reds and soft yellows as the evening's twilight streamed in through the expanse of windows, gazing out across the grounds of the Manor.

"We're going to practice in here?" Hermione asked, a little concerned for the welfare of the walls and floors.

"Yes. As…" Minerva's hand motioned to the grounds, "Twilight, either morning or night is the worst time of day to try and see spells and body movement because of the shadows."

"But the walls…"

"This will not be the first time I have used this room for practice," Minerva took another sip of her wine, thinking that…in reality it may be one of last, "And if a spell goes errant, then I shall just repair the marks or the wall."

"Dare I ask what we are starting with?" Hermione walking towards the far wall, to set her glass upon the table that had conveniently already appeared, as did a second bottle of wine…

They began where they had left off, yesterday. Minerva conjured an inanimate statue, casting spells…Hermione calling out the area that she believed it would strike prior to. Close to an hour passed, and Hermione found herself standing where the object had been…and Minerva with her wand pointed at her.

"We are going to take this slow." Minerva said, trying to ease Hermione's trepidation. "One spell."

"Easy for you, you aren't standing here without a wand." Hermione retorted.

"Ready?"

"Not really." Hermione said, feeling her stomach tighten at the notion that some spell would be hurdling towards her in a moment, and she wouldn't be able to do what she had spent the last nineteen years learning, use her wand.

Minerva ignored her commentary and raised her arm, and unlike her usual clipped movements while in a duel, she adopted the same motion she had been using with Hermione this past week; the wand movements she used to use while teaching. And with practiced ease, Minerva sent a stunning spell towards Hermione's left shoulder. She watched as brown eyes widened, shock spread across her face…and then the worry…and then she watched Hermione's whole body jerk to the side…the spell grazing tendrils of hair, nothing more. "Stop."

Hermione did as she was told, heart hammering in her chest…and elated that she had actually dodged a spell! But…her body weight was off balance, and she could feel the muscles in the back of her legs burning from trying to maintain how she was standing, and it had only been thirty seconds so far.

"Now look at me." Minerva stated, and Hermione's head turned. "How every wizard or witch is struck by their opponents spell when attempting to use this art, is because they lose focus on their opponent from taking their eyes off of them. The next reason is…at this very moment, would you be able to dodge a second one?"

"No." Hermione replied, her body on the verge of falling over.

"Center of balance." Minerva stated, "Go ahead and stand."

"But how do you keep your balance when you are trying to move out of the way of a spell? Especially if it were an unforgivable curse?" Hermione inquired, relishing the feeling of being able to stand upright again.

"There may come a point where you use this, and give up your center of balance for a paralyzing shot, but you have to be ready at that point to deflect anything that comes your way using your wand."

"But how do you keep your balance?" Hermione asked again.

"The same way you do when you dance, dear." Minerva replied, "Or haven't you learned when bending over that you don't tip your head to your knees otherwise you'll keep going."

They continued another half hour, Minerva casting one spell at Hermione; who had been able to dodge it more than seventy percent of the time. After each successful time, Minerva would have Hermione hold her position; if possible, and re-direct her gaze back to Minerva as she would inquire…

"And can you a dodge another spell?"

Frustrated, Hermione snapped. "As I've said the last twenty plus times, no."

"Center of balance, find it." She gave a nod, and Hermione stood up.

"How do you expect me to find balance when I'm dodging your damn stunning spells? Which do sting a bit by the way." She quipped, legs becoming fatigued as was her lower back.

"It's a stunning spell, it's supposed to. As for balance, you have to find a way to evade the oncoming spell without sacrificing your center of balance."

Hermione closed her eyes, rocking her head back and forth. "Alright…balance." She blinked, "I'm ready."

Minerva waved her wand again, and Hermione arched back her shoulder and instead of yelling stop; another spell flew from the tip of Minerva's wand just as Hermione realized that she had, yet again, pulled her eyes from Minerva. As her eyes turned back, she felt dread swell up into her stomach…as the blinding bolt was less than three feet away, and there was nowhere…

Hermione's body went rigid as the petrificus totalius struck her left knee and her still form toppled, a soft thud resounding through the room.

"Balance, Hermione." Minerva uttered, feeling tired as she cast the counter spell and walked towards the table.

Hermione felt the spell release and her body sunk to the floor, "I know." She grumbled, pushing herself upright.

Long fingers slipped around her wine glass, "You're done for tonight."

"I was just getting good at _losing_ my balance." Hermione retorted, lips drawn in a thin line of obvious annoyance.

Minerva's eyes narrowed, the waves of frustration emitting from Hermione was palatable. "Perhaps…" Minerva took the last sip from her glass, "You will feel better if you have an equal opportunity to stun me this evening." She set her glass down.

There was a hair's breathe pause, "No." She shook her head, "I wouldn't."

But despite her denials, Minerva had seen the momentary flash in her eyes, spurred on by an unsettling day. "However, I need you to try and stun me. You have fifteen minutes," Minerva stated striding across the room.

"Minerva…" Hermione ingested a deep mouthful of wine, "I have no desire to stun you."

"Nor I at being stunned, however, _you_ need to watch someone else; watch my body's movement." She replied, slipping her glasses in a pocket along the shoulder of her robe.

"I understand what I'm supposed to be doing…" Hermione frowned, setting her glass down, "I don't need you to demonstrate."

Minerva pulled out her wand, a large clock appearing in the room; and as she returned her wand to her robes, the clock began ticking. "Fifteen minutes."

Hermione stared at Minerva, waiting for her to move. To do anything other than stand thirty feet away, unmoving. The only noise coming from the tick, tock of the clock.

"Perhaps you are unable." Minerva replied after a minute had lapsed.

"It's not that I can't hit you with a spell," Hermione rebuked, "I chose not to indulge in this pointless exercise.

"I have my reasons for asking this, and it is not pointless." Minerva subtly adjusted her weight distribution to the balls of her feet, "However, I do believe you are in error…" A coy smile crossing Minerva's face, "As you were unable to strike me last time, what makes you certain you will this time?"

The last comment had done the trick, and Hermione's hand had her wand out within seconds, spells flourishing from its tip as bolts shot towards Minerva; the clock resetting…

After the two minutes...Hermione could feel her frustration magnify as Minerva subtly dodged, twirled, dipped, bent…effectively evading each spell. Minerva could feel a light sheen of sweat break upon her forehead, eyes remaining focused as she arched backwards…

At the five minute mark, Hermione's frustration had grown to sheer aggravation…the spells becoming faster. The first drop of sweat fell from a tendril of hair that had slipped from Minerva's bun, as she felt a muscle in her lower back catch from the last twist she had done…

Ten minutes…And the spells were flying off the tip of the younger witch's wand almost two at a time; the exhilaration combining with her frustration, and her will to stun the emerald robed witch increasing… She wanted to prove that Minerva wasn't that good. That she was as good as Albus, and would stun the dervish woman who was seemingly as nimble as her animagus cat. That Hermione wasn't what the Prophet had proclaimed for the world to see today…

Minerva had not been pushed like this in years…her muscles were screaming for a reprieve, and her left hip's mobility was becoming stagnant as a river of sweat ran down the back of her robes as Hermione's speed increased. Speed fueled by frustration; fueled by pain; by embarrassment, that the world would know of her divorce and almost everyone had a feeling on topic that no one, save for the two involved truly should.

Thirteen minutes…and Hermione watched as Minerva bowed forward in awe as she contorted herself around the two spells…the pins holding her hair clattering to the floor, ebony locks spilling forward, partially obscuring the high cheekbones, thin lines of the mouth…

Fourteen minutes, thirty seconds…Minerva's eyes noting the clock, and she found herself at a crossroads. One to push for the next handful of seconds or not too. And as her eyes lifted from Hermione's torso to her face and back; she knew it was no longer a choice…her muscles screaming for release, willing the pain to abate…

Hermione watched as Minerva weaved past one, another…and then a third spell, her body flawlessly balanced…and a surge of annoyance swept through her…

Minerva purposely tilting her body…

The stunning spell colliding into Minerva's left shoulder…her body immediately flung backwards, back impacting the wall from the force behind the spell.

Hermione felt her frustration mount as she released the spell, "Speaking of pity, I don't need yours, Minerva."

Minerva took a rattling breath as she pushed herself upright, "Pity?" She could feel her back catching along her ribs.

"You let me stun you!" Hermione's voice rising an octave as Minerva drew herself up to her feet.

"Let you stun me…" Minerva straightened fully upright, feigning off a grimace as she did. "Because of a fascination I have with being thrown sideways into walls?"

"Because you felt sorry for me."

"Do not equate skill or the ability to use it as my feeling sorry." Minerva said as she met the other woman's wide and angry eyes.

"Skill…" Hermione scoffed, "That is correct, you do have skill. Enough skill to dodge my flimsy attempts for an hour…"

A deeper concern began to swell in Minerva's breast, "Where is all of this self doubt of yours stemming from?" She asked, stepping forward.

"Self doubt?" Hermione chuckled outright, "Self doubt. You, ask about self doubt. When I have seen you dodge spells and do things that is seemingly impossible in even a wizard's world and yet, you accomplish it with such ease. And then you are struck with a spell, just before the clock ends this 'lesson'…this isn't about self doubt, it's about false self confidence, and the pretense…"

Minerva could feel her own anger jump slightly and she found herself reigning in her own emotions. She knew that Hermione had had a trying day, several to be precise; as she was undoubtedly worried about her children, the whole business with her very public divorce, away from familiarity as she had taken the position at Hogwarts…but that did not mean that her own had been any easier of late. "Despite your steadfast belief, I am getting older and not…"

"Sod off with the, I am getting older, pretext; because for the fourteen minutes prior you hadn't made a false move."

"Whether you believe it or not, Hermione..." Minerva's voice beginning to rise in pitch, "I am eighty-seven. Perhaps to you, I seem young and spritely, but my endurance is not what it once was; nor is my hip. I have not practiced this lesson regularly in over a decade…"

"The great Minerva McGonagall does not make mistakes…" Hermione stated, flinging another stunning spell at Minerva, who had seen it coming and dodged to the side, "See."

"How many times do I…" Minerva twirled around, bringing her wand out as she avoided another stunner. "Hermione, I did not intentionally let you stun me." Minerva stated, her Gaelic ancestry becoming readily apparent in her cadence.

"No…" Hermione stated, "You did." She raised up her wand, "Even now, the way your eyes are watching my movements, my wand…" She flung another stunner toward Minerva, who deftly side-stepped the bolt. "Always watching. There is no other explanation."

"Other than I am older…"

"As I said…"

"And quite human." Minerva stated overtop of Hermione's interruption. "Just like you, Hermione. And I make mistakes."

"Not like that." Hermione retorted, "And what the devil's the point? I've been at this for months and can't hit you with a single bloody spell after fifteen minutes; unless you let me!" She bellowed.

"I didn't let you." Minerva snapped back, her own ire rising, "And you have become a far better duelist over the last several months…"

"Who can't hit you with a single spell." Defeat lacing Hermione's voice. "Perhaps I had no right ever marrying Ron." She felt a tear prickle in her eyes at the thought she gave to voice, "As you have yet again shown this evening, I am just a mudblood."

"Hermione Jean Granger, I will _not_ permit you or anyone else to use that language within my house; especially about yourself!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as another jolt of anger pulsed through her, feeling as though Minerva had just talked down to her…"Who the hell do you think you are? I can use any language I see fit; besides you have no idea what I am referring to, do you? As you're from a long and prestigious line of purebloods!"

"You are as strong as any pureblood I have met." Minerva's voice shaking, as she tried to keep her anger in check. "And you had every right to marry Ronald…"

A bolt of red zoomed towards Minerva, and unlike previously, she deflected it with a protego charm as Hermione's voice quaked in fury. "But I'm not a pureblood, and never will be!" She sent another two stunners at the other witch, whose face was becoming blurred as her rage bloomed. Rage at the twenty-one howlers; the daily prophet articles, several of which were already siding with Ron stating that Hermione had been unfaithful for years; indignation at the constant insinuation… "I'm a delusional mudblood…"

Minerva could feel the tears welling up in her own eyes, "You are not a mudblood, Hermione." She stated as she deflected the stunners.

A strangled laugh left Hermione's lips, "Why thank you for that proclamation, Headmistress…" She tipped her head in mock respect, "For righting the wrong of my lineage, oh purest of purebloods."

Minerva felt her breath catch, her own magic crackling in response, nostrils flaring as she clenched her jaw. "Your marriage didn't fail because of your ancestry, dear."

"Even the statistics on the back page of prophet disagree Minerva! Over forty percent of purebloods who marry a muggle born witch or wizard end in divorce!"

"And did you read the source of those statistics, Hermione? It's from Wizco; a wizarding company founded to help promote pureblood superiority."

"Obviously it's working; as only eight percent of purebloods ever end in divorce!"

"That's because there are not as many pureblood marriages versus those married with to what you are calling muggle wizards or witches."

"And _your_ family, Minerva. How many of your children married muggle raised witches or wizards?"

"Hermione," Minerva shook her head, "We are not talking about _my_ family, but your…"

"All of them married purebloods, didn't they?" Hermione challenged. "And you are their proud mother, able to keep your lineage pure and untainted by muggle blood…"

A tear dripped off Minerva's lash as she whipped her wand in a quick and deft arc, a welt forming on Hermione's cheek. "Enough, Hermione."

"Haaa," She reached up, hand grazing her cheek to feel the fresh wound. "Did I hit too close to home? A muggle witch or wizard not good enough for the most powerful wizarding family?" She taunted. "As they might produce a squib for a grandchild…"

Hot, white anger was coursing through Minerva's veins, as her teeth sunk into her lip to keep her initial comments at bay. "Just because Albus and I both come from wizarding families does not mean that our children married purebloods. Nor," Emerald eyes glinting in the light, "Does that mean I would love my grandchild any less if he or she were a squib."

"It's because a mudblood wouldn't be good enough." Hermione continuing on, ignoring Minerva's statement. "Never good enough!" She roared, tears blurring her eyes, "As a wife…"

She flung another hex at Minerva…

"As a mother…"

And another…

"As a friend…"

Another…

Her voice choking as the Howlers rang through her head, "As a lover…"

Minerva deflecting the last hex with ease…

She felt a sob cracking in the back of her throat…as a blurry image swam in front of her, arms wrapping around her body, pulling her into an embrace…

One which she half heartedly tried to resist, to pull away…but…the arms encircling her waist tightened…

"I've got you." Minerva whispered as tears slipped down her cheeks as the other woman finally gave in; and she sank into her arms as soft sobs racked Hermione's body.

Several minutes passed and Hermione finally began to pull back, "I'm…" She felt horrible for all the things she had said to Minerva, "Sorry."

Minerva reached out, gently wiping away a trail of tears across her right cheek, internally wincing at the swollen welt she had caused. "We both have cause to feel sorry."

"I deserved…" Fingers gently touching her cheek.

"No," Minerva interrupted, "You don't. I should never have lost control."

"The things I said…" Hermione closed her eyes a moment, feeling ashamed of how she had lost control…verbally lashing out… "Were uncalled for and I was just trying to…" She opened her eyes as Minerva stepped closer once again, pulling her into a strong hug.

"It has been a long day, Hermione." She whispered into the still air as Hermione's arms finally rose and wrapped around her too. They stayed that way for another moment before she released the younger woman. "For both of us." Minerva felt Hermione's hands release too and she stepped back.

"I didn't mean what I said, Minerva." Hermione's red, swollen eyes peering into emerald ones, begging for understanding. "I have never thought of you or Dumbledore as anything other than equitable and undiscriminating."

Minerva nodded, believing the sincerity behind the words, but the sting had yet to fully leave from her earlier remarks. "Would you like to talk about your divorce, dear?" She asked, tactfully moving the conversation forward.

Hermione blinked, voice raw… "It's important for you to understand…"

"No, Hermione. I believe it's more important for you to understand." Minerva stated, reaching out to tip up the other woman's chin, enabling her to gaze directly into her eyes. Eyes, which at being this close, were slightly blurry without her glasses.

Hermione swallowed hard as a ball of emotion curled in her stomach…and a flutter passed through her chest as Minerva's hand gently tipped up her head; only to find clear emerald eyes piercing her with a potent and charged stare.

"Yes, I am from a wizarding family, as is Albus. Two of our children married what you call purebloods; one was Callum the other Esmerele. However, both of Audrey's parents were muggles and Malcolm's mother is a muggle." She narrowed her eyes ever so much, bringing clarity to the blurred lines of Hermione's face. "Now, regarding you…"

"Minerva, I…"

"Let me finish," Minerva's voice was abrupt, clipped causing Hermione's gaze to lower as she nodded. "And…" Minerva's hand reached out, gently raising her chin, tone becoming soft. "Look at me."

Teary chocolate eyes rose back up, blinking rapidly to quell and push back sudden swell of emotion as Minerva's hand fell back to her side.

"_You _are an incredible witch, Hermione. One who has the ability to become anyone she wishes and the skill to accomplish it. Never doubt that. Those skills come from your parents; who are muggle and there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed by that. Rather proud. That you can accomplish more than every witch or wizard alive; and you have your muggle parents to thank for it." A tender smile graced Minerva's face, "And your ancestry had nothing to do with your divorce to Ronald; nor how you were as a wife. People grow apart as goals and dreams become divergent; and the basis for your initial relationship dissolves. I have seen you with Rose and Hugo; and I know you are a far better mother than most; I'm sure your children would agree. I believe Harry would agree that you are a truly loyal and steadfast friend; as would Ginerva, Neville, George, even Ronald. And regarding that of a lover;" Her voice became lower, more sensual causing the hairs on Hermione's arms to tingle as she spoke. "I imagine you would do what every strong and powerful witch does to their lover; leave them wanting more." She laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "As for the Prophet and anyone else who tries; do not give them the satisfaction of having torn down a wonderful, smart, caring woman whose skill, though muggle born, will one day surpass my own." She dropped her hand away.

Hermione's voice was thick, laden with emotion as her heart skipped a beat. "I never meant to cause you any pain."

"Nor I you." Minerva sighed, eyes fixing upon Hermione's cheek. "I have something in the drawing room that should take both the pain and swelling away." She turned, "If you'll follow me."

Hermione numbly followed her mentor, twisting through doorways…and then she felt a chair against her legs…and she was sitting, with no recollection of how she arrived, only that her feet carried her. She heard Minerva open up a drawer, and she found her gaze seeking Minerva out…

She was across the room, next to the fireplace…flames dancing across her figure as she leaned over to gaze into the cabinet obviously searching for something. Another minute passed, and Hermione felt a wave of fatigue lance through her, eyes becoming heavy as Minerva stood upright…hair falling past her shoulders as it framed her face, eyes glinting, lips pursed in mild annoyance at not finding what she was looking for…and Hermione couldn't help but notice how young Minerva still looked. At this distance, she appeared perhaps to be mid-forty…and she was reminded that wizards and muggles do not age at the same rate. Wizarding folk tending to live two to three times as long as muggles, often predicated upon how strong a witch or wizard was. And as the first tendrils of sleep began to claim her...she heard Sirius' young voice in her head; _Are you talking about Aunt McGonagall?_

Minerva offhandedly charmed her hair back into a braid as she closed the third cabinet; she could have sworn the first aid kit was here. And then with sudden clarity, she remembered, she had taken it downstairs when she had sliced her hand… Standing, she turned to tell Hermione she would be right back, only to find the young woman's eyes closed, head nestled against the edge of the cushion fast asleep.

"Bonnie." She stated quietly.

Immediately the elder house elf appeared and then frowned at her Mistress' less than pristine attire. "Can you bring the first aid kit here? It's in the…"

"I's be back." She clicked her fingers, eyes trailing towards the other witch before blinking away.

Minerva reached up and pulled her glasses from her robes, the pain in her back becoming more intense as her adrenaline rush diminished. As she donned her gold frames, Bonnie reappeared with a small satchel in her hand. "What else will's you be needing."

Minerva arched her brow, at Bonnie's presumptuousness. "Please prepare one of the guest rooms."

Bonnie's jaw slackened at the request, and found herself stuttering. "I's…did you say…"

"One of the two guest rooms on the second floor Bonnie; either Callum's or my old room." Minerva stated and then turned her attention back to the satchel.

Bonnie was still too shocked to move; no one had stayed at the Manor since Master Derrick's death. And the Mistress hadn't stayed but once since her marriage with Master Albus…over fifty years ago. "Are you'se sure…you wouldn't want the Ridge…"

Minerva pulled the small olive green vial from the satchel, head tipped down to look over the rim of her glasses as she turned to Bonnie while unscrewing the cap. "No. Hermione is to know nothing of the Ridge."

"I's…"

Voice momentarily becoming unyielding, "Nothing, Bonnie."

Slowly the elder house matron nodded her white head, "I's don't understand, but she's will not hear of the Ridge Mistress."

Immediately, Minerva's tone softened, "Thank you. Now if you would be kind enough to prepare the room, as I cannot carry her back to Hogwarts, my hip barely supporting my weight this evening after the last two hours. I'll need you to apparate her through the wards to the room once done."

"Very well, Mistress." She kindly stated, "And will's I need to prepare the Mistress' bedroom too?"

Minerva pondered the question, but the growing ache in her back answered for her. "I'll be going back to Hogwarts. I…have a few items that need to be taken care of this evening."

"I's be back soon," Bonnie paused a heartbeat, momentarily watching as the Mistress carefully leaned over…finger lightly dabbing the red welt across Hermione's cheek. She had not been happy to hear the argument, nor some of the words that Hermione had yelled at the Mistress, but…she couldn't help notice how the Mistress was tending to the other witch.

Minerva heard the quiet pop, and knew that Bonnie would be back within minutes as she gently applied another layer of cream to the area; the effect immediate as the color from the welt was beginning to fade. And as she spread the last of the balm on; Hermione tipped her head into her hand…sighing softly against her wrist. She felt her pulse jump as the gentle breaths grazed her skin; and for one very brief instant, she imagined a world where she could again have a lover.

To feel skin sliding against skin…

And in the next heartbeat, she pushed aside the notion. _It did not do to dwell on what could not be_, she thought and with a sigh, she gingerly removed her hand…

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoo_

Minerva arrived back at Hogwarts at just before twelve; her side and back on fire…and the portraits less than happy at the time of her arrival.

"You stated you would be back hours ago." Dily's chastised the Headmistress.

"You'll never get any rest if you stay out until all hours." Everard stated.

"You look tired, Minerva. Are you alright?" Albus asked.

"Where did you leave your protégé?" Severus inquired.

"The Minister has asked that I relay…"

"As did Helena…"

"Percival also…"

Minerva held up her hand, "I need a few minutes. As I believe I have broken a few ribs…" She quietly stated, drawing a wake of mutterings as she limped forward.

"What happened?"

"Where have you been?"

"Is Professor Granger alright?"

"She's fine." Minerva replied gritting her teeth as the pulse of Hogwarts began ringing in her ears as magic swelled through her; healing her…and as the last of the blue and alabaster light dissipated, Minerva sank blissfully onto the sofa in her office. Her walking stick sliding along the sofa, until it fell to the floor with a soft crack…Minerva too tired to care for a moment as she peeled her glasses off just before her body fell sideways, eyes closing…head landing upon the cushion and her arm, glasses dangling from her fingers as exhaustion claimed her.

All of the Headmasters and Headmistresses quietly rustling from frame to frame as they debated whether to wake her and give her the messages they had been told to impart. However, it was unanimously decided that another few hours would make little difference…for Minerva was sleeping, even if it was only for a few moments.

_Xooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox_

_A/N: Inch by inch… ;) _


	27. Chapter 26a October 27th, 2009

**Chapter 26****th**** ~ October 27****th**** 2009 (Tuesday) …part 1**

Minerva woke with a start, blinking herself alert as she sat upright; as Elgin's hurried voice began again. "Mistress, you'se **must** wakes up!" His blinking eyes peering up at her. "Musts hurry!"

Minerva closed her eyes wincing as she placed the heel of her hand to her temple as her head pulsed in pain. "What is it?" She asked, voice barely audible.

"You'se brothers…"

Albus' portrait overriding Elgin, "Aberforth, Minerva. He's being attacked!"

Minerva abruptly stood, feeling mildly off kilter, as she summoned her walking stick. "Albus what time?" She licked her lips, as the world slowly fell into place.

"Just after three."

Minerva closed her eyes, steeling her nerves and then with a wave summoned her glasses that were for some apparent reason on the floor as she turned to the portrait that could hold the four founders of the school, all at once or individually. At once Rowena's and Helga's face appeared. "Alert Filius that there's an attack going on at Hogsmeade." She slipped on her glasses, clarity coming to her vision as she turned to Elgin, "Go to the Manor and awaken Hermione."

"At the Manor?" He asked, not sure he had heard her correctly.

"Yes," She waved a hand down the front of her robes…the creases and stains falling from the silk, "Dily's; Everard." She nodded, and as one both went to alert Helena and the other the Minister respectively.

"Please be careful, my dear." Albus stated as Minerva gave her wand one more wave, hair snapping into a thick braid.

"Severus, to the Potters and have them alert the Order." She pulled the wards to her, eyes finally snapping to comforting, familiar ones that twinkled as brightly as any star. "I will, love. Please, alert the children." And with a resounding pop, she was gone…a stray paper fluttering off the corner of her desk in the now empty room.

_Oxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_

Helena arched backwards…head pressing into the pillows as Harold's teeth grazed her nipple…

"My love…" She moaned, as his warm mouth began suckling and pulling upon her left one. "Yes…"

"I want you…" He rumbled, hand dropping to her lace underwear…fingers circling her center, feeling the moisture pooling through the cotton as his own desire grew…

Her legs opened, farther as he continued his menstruations with both his fingers and mouth…and Helena couldn't stop another moan from eschewing forth as her fingers absently curled around the bed sheet...her blood beginning to pound in her ears…as she could feel his need for her growing through their bond…

Harold lifted his head as Helena's head moved to the side…blond hair cascading across her jaw, loving how sensual his wife was…feeling her _want_ him through not only their bond…but the juices lapping against his fingers…

Helena reached down and pulled him forward, her lips crashing against his…as his chest slid along hers…and echoing the same thought, his boxers and her underwear vanished…and both moaned as their hips touched…

But it wasn't enough…as their bodies craved more…to be touched deeper as their tongues raked across the others…

She could feel him shift above her…body eager to greet him…as her hands slid down his back…their kiss breaking as he entered her warmth…her legs greedily widening as she arched to meet him; moaning into his shoulder…

"Oh…Helena." He whispered as her inner muscles already began to contract along his shaft…causing his body to tremble in anticipation.

Helena shifted…feeling him gently rock against her core, "Yes…love…" She breathed continuing to shift…

"Helena!" Dilys popped into her frame, feeling even her painted ears _wanting _to turn bright pink at the sight before her…

Harold's gruff voice broke the suddenly quiet air, "What?" His need overriding any embarrassment.

"It can wait, Dilys." Helena crooned as she pulled her husband back into her… "Five minutes…"

"Ten…" He moaned into her ear… "I want you to come…over and over…against me…"

Dilys swallowed, hard as she averted her eyes but did not leave the frame. "Aberforth is under attack in Hogsmeade."

Despite their overwhelming need…their want for release…both witch and wizard turned to Dilys…bodies flushed... "This had better not be a joke…" Helena snapped.

"Minerva went there…"

Harold ground his teeth, "It is a joke dear, a cosmic one." He moaned as he withdrew… "Who is with her?"

At the direct question, Dilys raised her head as Harold stood up, away from the portrait. "No one. She sent for help, but apparated there a minute ago; alone."

Helena stood at once, immediately feeling her center pulse with desire…

"Dear…" Harold ground out, feeling her jolt of desire course through him.

"I want you, just as you do me." She snapped before turning back to Dilys, "Hermione?"

"On her way. As will the Ministry, and the other Order members." Dilys stated as both Harold and Helena already having donned their undergarments as both pulled on their inner robes.

"I'll be there momentarily." Helena stated as the hem of her robe vanished.

"Dear, go to St. Mungos…I'll go to Hogsmeade."

"And if he's been injured or one of the Order members; I'll," She slipped on her outer robe as Harold pulled on his boots. "Apparate north of Hogs Head."

"I don't like it, please, just go to St. Mungos." He pleaded standing and in one deft motion whipped on his outer cloak. "I'll bring anyone who is injured straight away." He leveled his blue gaze to his wife, love emitting from their depths. "I promise."

Knowing that he had a point, she conceded. "I'll have healers waiting at the entrance."

"Thank you." He whispered, leaning in to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

"Be careful." She murmured against his cheek before he leaned back.

"I will." He reached over, grabbing his opaque wand…and silver framed lenses… "You too, love." He replied as he stepped from the room, hurried footsteps running down the stairs, the door bursting open against the frame as it rattled the pictures in their bedroom. As he stepped from the house, he could feel her love…their smoldering desire…and a wave of uneasiness ripple across his skin. _I love you too¸ _he thought as his long strides quickly brought him to the edge of their wards; and with his wand at the ready, he blinked from the Hovel.

_xoxoxoxoooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxooxoxo_

"Potter!" Severus' deep voice reverberating off the walls as he appeared at the quaint home. _Why in blazes did they have to buy a home here? Godric's Hollow of all places…_ "Potter!"

Severus waited another heartbeat before repeating his phrase for a third time, "Potter!"

He could see a light blink on and hear the rustling of footsteps, "Potter!"

Harry came stumbling from his room, hair askew…glasses tilted on his face, "What?" His voice heavy with sleep, Ginny stepping from the room as she drew her robe about her.

"Aberforth is being attacked at Hogsmeade."

Harry stared at him for two solid seconds as the words made the connection within his tired brain and at once he was running back down the hallway, "Go to George's first." He stated to Ginny whose robe was already on the ground as she pulled on a pair of jeans.

"The kids…"

Harry threw on a shirt, "The Burrow, Molly."

"Time is of the essence, Potter!" Severus yelled from his portrait, "As Aberforth and Minerva will be severely outnumbered."

Ginny glanced up as Severus finished his comment, and felt her own stomach clench as the color drained from Harry's face at the notion that Minerva was in trouble.

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxo_

Percival was already clasping his violet robes as Audrey came out of the bathroom, "Don't…leave this one to mother and Tessa, Percival."

"He's my Uncle, love." Percival said, stepping back kissing her cheek. "And mother won't always be able to be the one to save the world."

"And it isn't your role, either." She quipped as she summoned his wand, "Just because you're their son."

"We aren't talking about the world," He snapped in response, "But my family."

_Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxo_

Elgin appeared next to Hermione's bed, the disturbance immediately alerting and bringing Bonnie as he spoke her name aloud. "Professor's Granger."

Bonnie frowned, "Elgin…"

He shook his head, "Professor's…

Bonnie reached out, gently shaking Hermione's arm. "Hermione."

Hermione groaned as she rolled over, "Five more minutes…"

"Hermione!" Bonnie and Elgin's voice ringing in the still house, causing Hermione to bolt upright.

"What?" She asked, blinking awake…eyes startled to see both Bonnie and Elgin staring up at her.

"There is an attack at Hog's Head," Elgin stated, "Mistress sent me's to gets you'se."

Hermione threw the covers off her legs, immediately noting that her wand lay next to a penned note…and she also noticed that her robes had been transfigured…into a midnight blue set of pajama tops and bottoms made of cotton.

At once, Hermione took her wand…the pajama tops and bottoms vanishing as she returned the clothes to their original state; and shoved the note into her pocket. Whatever it said, she'd read later.

"My shoes…"

Elgin pointed to the foot of the bed, "Here's Professor."

"What time is it?" She asked, slipping first one on…and then the other as Bonnie answered.

"Two's after three."

"Am I still at the Manor?" She asked standing.

"Yes." Bonnie replied, "Mistress asked…"

"Not nows…" Elgin interrupted as his hand stretched out and grasped Hermione's arm who waved her wand again, her hair falling into a braid…a leather strap appearing along the end to hold the braid in place. "Ready's?"

"Wait," Hermione turned to Bonnie, "Where's Minerva?"

Elgin answered, "Gone's ahead."

Worry immediately coiled within her stomach, "Alone?"

"Yes." He answered, wondering why she was asking these silly questions. How else would the Mistress travel? Unless she was traveling with the Master, or the rare occasion the Mistress took the Professors Granger. Surely, the Professors Granger knew that.

"Go!" Hermione yelled to Elgin, "Now!" As her right hand curled tightly around her wand, anxiousness flooding her veins as the bedroom blinked away.

_oxoxxxoooxoxoxoxooxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxoxo_

Minerva felt a wave of heat flood her senses as the village came into focus. The bottom of Hog's Head was in flames, and she could see bolts of light coming from the upstairs through the window.

However, the whizzing of air behind her head, caused her to drop and turn around in time to miss a crucio curse.

"We knew you'd come." The tall black robed wizard with ebony hair and green eyes stated, the flames flickering across his face.

"Douglass?" Minerva questioned remembering the young Gryffindor from when Callum, her son, had gone to school. "What could Johannes possibly have offered you?"

"It's hard to pass up the opportunity for immortality, Headmistress." He stated, six other men stepping from behind the tree line. All of them with their wands raised. "And, you are the key to obtaining it."

Minerva's gaze darted to Hog's Head, as a window busted out and smoke billowed out of the loft. _If Aberforth was alive, he wouldn't be for long. He'll die from smoke inhalation, _she thought hoping against hope that he'd be able to make it out as she leveled her gaze to Douglass. "If I am the key, why is Johannes not here?"

"Ohh…" Douglass smiled a lopsided grin, "He's busy…" He nodded to the fire, "Taking care of something personal."

Minerva gave Douglass a curt nod, "As am I." And with a pull of magic, she apparated into the loft of Hog's Head. Despite taking a deep breath before she arrived, the smoke burnt her eyes and lungs…as a bolt suddenly shimmered across the room, disappearing into the smoke. "Aberforth!"

"Minerva!" Came the strangled cry of her brother-in-law. "He's…" His voice losing volume as he sucked in another deep breath, body starving for oxygen. "Family portrait."

She snapped her head around knowing where the picture was in the room, despite not being able to see four feet away. A rictasempta curse was less than two foot from striking her chest…and as she moved, she felt it slice deeply into her side and she dropped down to her knee spinning around as she summoned the smoke, soot, particle matter to her…

"You never cease to amaze me, Minerva." Came Johannes' sharp voice, his black eyes searching for where the witch had vanished to, but then felt a snake coil around his body, tightening…strangling…and at once, he blew the boards to the loft apart as he apparated away.

Minerva felt the flooring buckling and then she falling into the flames of the bar…explosions blowing towards her and…she could just make out Aberforth's body about twenty feet away as another bottle blew apart, fire bursting towards her…obscuring her vision as she jerked her eyes away…tears streaming down her cheeks…as her legs struck the floor…

"Ahhh…" She screamed out from the impact, body collapsing…and as she tipped her head upwards…she could see the rafters beginning to fall towards her…

_oxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxox_

"Minerva!" Hermione screamed, and she was gone before the words had graced her ears…but the seven men standing ten feet from her all instantly snapped their heads up to her. "Shit." She muttered as a flurry of curses and hexes all streamed towards her. At once, she cast a protego charm, and with another flick…summoned the metal frame that once held the Hog's Head sign, it growing and morphing into a flat plate before her as the first two spells struck her charm, dissolving it…the other five pinging off the metal.

"You must be Hermione." Douglass stated, marching forward. "It'll be a pleasure to kill one of the golden trio." A yellow bolt charging forward…melting her pseudo shield…

Hermione already transfiguring the dirt from the ground into soldiers…creating a barrier between them, her wand moving at a remarkable speed as she transfigured one after the other as dirt, stone, wood and metal soldiers blew apart; the particles raining through the air…as her heart hammered in her chest.

_Focus_, she told herself. _That's how you'll stay alive._ She could feel herself beginning to tire, and she recalled Minerva's words from a few months ago; stating that she had often time battled when it was most inconvenient. _How awful…_She turned her head away as the last blast ricocheted towards her, splinters flying into her hands¸ _bloody true_, she thought as her wand started to become slick from her blood…forcing her to grip her wand even tighter.

"You'll be dead before anyone else arrives." One of the wizard's harsh voice continuing to taunt, "Leaving your ex-husband to raise your bastard children."

His words spurred Hermione on…if at all possible, pushing her to go faster…and as she made another two soldiers…she whipped her wand in a small arc...

"They'll only remember you as the mother who deserted…"

…the stones chips morphing into daggers before falling back to the ground, as she transfigured two more.

"…them, to their father because she wasn't good enough…"

The statue to the left blew apart, and in that moment, as the pebbles rained down…she sent the daggers at one of the wizards…

"…to stay alive to see…" The wizard's eyes became the size of a bludger as the first dagger imbedded into his leg, and then his body was obscured from view, as she transfigured another statue…

"I'll make it home tonight," Hermione laboriously breathed out, "It is the lot of you who won't."

"Brave words…" Douglass sneered.

"Not really." Harold stated as he stepped fully from a vortex, wand already whipping through the air; two bolts of lightning singing the air at once as they leapt forward from his wand.

"Hermione, take the ones to the left." He yelled out, as he conjured an alabaster, warbling shield charm…his eyes momentarily searching for Minerva as three curses gently caressed the charm, making it glow brighter against the night air.

Hermione transfigured the dirt into a lasso, springing it forward as she stepped around one of the remaining statues.

"Where's Minerva?" Harold winced as a bolt of electric caught the edge of his thigh.

"In Hog's Head." Hermione twirled and ducked from a crucio curse as she morphed the twigs beneath the large oak into wooden staves.

Harold spared a momentary glance to the flame engulfed building, "Are you sure?" He cast another two spells at once, trying to take out one of three wizards he was battling.

"Yes." Hermione breathed out, maneuvering around…to get a look at the building as she shot the staves at the three men before her. "Dear God." Hermione breathed out, the flames had to be fifty feet into the air… "Minerva."

And as if hearing her muttered name, a blood curdling scream came from within the building…as the structure shifted, flames bursting through the windows…

"Go!" Harold yelled as he pulled his magic…and used his bond, a flood of Helena's magic joining chorusly with his, soothing his sudden pain…and he morphed another alabaster shield between Hermione, he and the six wizards…

_xoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxo_

Helena felt a deep sense of worry flood Harold and then the pull upon their bond…

In all of their years of marriage, they had only used the bond twice before…once was when Harold joined Minerva to save their daughter; the other was when she had to use it, to try and save their son.

A tear pricked Helena's brilliant blue eyes as another wave rippled through her, fatigue beginning to settle behind her eyes.

"Are you sure there are wounded coming in?" Michaels asked as his eyes continued searching the atrium for the wounded.

"Yes." Helena quietly breathed out, a tear dripping onto her cheek as her legs began to shake with the effort to remain standing.

Michaels turned around, hand immediately out as he wrapped his arm around Helena. "You just left an hour ago, you need to go back home…"

Helena shook her head, blinking… "Get me chocolate."

"Helena…"

The drain increasing as Michaels lowered her into a chair, "Now." She breathed out with effort.

Twenty seconds later he returned to a white Administrator, "Here." He handed her an unwrapped bar, setting another one in front of her. "I just…you haven't done any magic."

"No, _I_ haven't…" She said, drilling him with her eyes, "Think Michaels…old magic." She stated as a shaky hand lifted the bar back to her mouth.

His voice dropped, shock lining his features. "You're…" He leaned forward, "Bound…to your husband."

"Yes…"

"But you're a healer." Michaels stated in disbelief. "You know the medical reasons why it shouldn't be allowed…"

Helena swallowed the last bite, the drain still palpable, and she ripped open a second bar. _This was not what I was craving when I got home_, she thought. "You're right, I do." She stated quietly. "But also, as a healer, it is not your right to judge, merely administer treatment."

"I just can't believe that you, of all people would choose to bind yourself to another. To have your life ended as soon as your partner dies…"

Another wave rippled through her, and she closed her eyes, concentrating…centering herself, her magic… "It was one of the best decisions I have ever made." Her voice barely reaching his ears.

_Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_

Harry had heard of the theory of creating a shield that resembled a veil, but he had never seen one in real life…nor had he imagined that it would be larger than three foot, perhaps four at the largest. And yet, as he stepped forward, that was exactly what he was staring at; except it was over sixty feet in length…Harold kneeling in front of it, face the picture of serenity, arm trembling…as four wizards cast spells at it, while two others sprinted in opposite directions, trying to go around the sides; but it seemingly grew longer.

"Harold!" Harry yelled running forward, "Where's Minerva and Aberforth?" And he turned around to see Hermione running towards the building, "Don't tell me they're in the bar!"

"Stay…" Harold wheezed, "Can't…" Sweat was streaming down his face, "Hold."

Harry's face portrayed his momentary divide, and then he drew himself up…wand out. "Ready."

"Three…" Harold's voice strained.

Harry cast a look backwards, seeing Hermione holding her hand up as she neared the roaring fire. _She won't go in, unless she can get back out…_Harry reasoned as Harold groaned out a, "Two."

Wand beginning to shake violently, "One."

And the wall dissipated from the middle, fluttering outward. Harry threw two hexes at the four men, as Harold flung up a protego charm in front of himself as he staggered to his feet, hardly able to stand. "I'm sorry, love." He whispered, exhausted…as he barely held his wand within his fingers. Not knowing for the first time in years if he would be making it home this evening.

_xoxoxoxxoooxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxxooxxoxoxxo_

A plume of fire burst forward, causing Hermione to stumble backwards. A loud cough coming from behind her, and she felt a wave of relief as she turned around, expecting to see Minerva…and found her heart in her throat as she meet obsidian black eyes. "Not who you were looking for, Mrs. Weasley or should I say Granger now?"

Hermione and Johannes pointing wands at the other, "Where is she?"

"Who?" He quipped, staring at the woman before him. One of the golden three…

"You damn well know, Minerva." She snapped, hearing the timbers creak as the wood dried…flames bursting higher. Time was of the essence.

His eyes averted to the burning building, "Last time I saw her, she was falling through the floor of the building about two minutes ago."

Hermione swallowed, "You lie."

Orange flames reflected off his black, soulless eyes. "No." He stepped closer, "But I believe she will be coming out any minute…" His eyes flickering to the building and back, "She is a most resilient woman."

"You sound as though you admire her." Hermione stated wondering how she would be able to get around him, and to Aberforth and Minerva.

"She's an amazing witch." His voice becoming cold, "And even more amazing in how well she can weave a tale."

"The only one who weaves a tale is," She flicked her wand, "You." A curse bursting forth from the tip of her wand.

_xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxooxoxoxoxoxo_

George's red hair shimmered orange as he cast a protego charm in front of Harold's body, blocking a crucio curse from striking him. "Wotcher mate." He yelled, running forward, wand out. Flames dancing across his bare chest as his outer cloak billowed behind him, stripped pajama bottoms a sharp contrast to his normal dragon hide pants.

"Rousing you a bit early, this morning?" Harry quipped as he deflected a perfectus totalis.

"Nah, mate." George stated, drawing close to an obviously exhausted Harold. "Was out exercising."

Harold chuckled despite the situation, "So was I."

George and Harry stole a glance to Harold, the seriousness on his face…the sparkle in his eyes… "Woah, not that lucky, mate." George retorted as they formed a triangle back to back…against the remaining four. "Where's McG?"

Harry and Harold's eyes darted to the burning building, "Inside."

George waved his wand…flourishing it to the side, eyes dashing to Aberforth's…heart sinking, "You're kidding, right?"

"No…" Harry groaned, "Hermione's…getting them out."

George could see two figures just outside, a flurry of spells darting between them, "No, mate. She's encountered resistance."

Harold narrowed his eyes, summoning every ounce of energy as he cast another protego charm, enabling him to glance to Hog's Head for a solid second. "Johannes…" He breathed out as the front of the building began to crumble, "Get out of there Minerva." He breathed, tears in his eyes as he whipped his wand in a deft arc and then a quick snap. A flame jumping to the tip of his wand…and at the snap, it shot forward…engulfing one of the wizards.

And then Harold saw Neville and Percival running forward…

Douglass seeing them too, "Time to go." He stated and as one, the remaining wizards vanished.

Harold falling to his knees, "Get to Hermione," He breathed out, pointing to the front of the building.

Percival's long legs making short work of the hundred feet separating him from where his uncle and mother was, "Johannes…" He bellowed, legs burning from their lack of use.

_xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxo_

Hermione twirled and dipped, blood streaming down her arms from her hands as spells sprang back and forth between them as the flames danced behind her.

His bolt of lightning morphed into a haze of smoke as Hermione whipped it back at him, jolting across his chest…

He cracked a crucio curse at her as he dissolved the smoke, bending it into a giant snake…

Hermione ducked…the spell barely missing her shoulder…and as her eyes refocused, she felt fangs of fire sinking into her leg… "Ahh…" She cast a powerful wind charm, dissolving the fire in a gust…wand already casting a protego charm before spinning around and lassoing a tendril of fire; heart hammering in her chest. _There was no way she'd be able to get to Minerva. She'd have to put the fire out, _she thought as she flung a hundred fiery daggers at him.

Then she heard a noise that made her heart soar… "Aber…forth!" Minerva's broken voice yelling out. Momentarily breaking her concentration as she jerked her gaze away from Johannes…as a crucio curse struck her in her stomach…the very breath rushing from her lungs.

She could feel the fire…

"One of the three; and my uncle. Not bad for a night's work." He twisted his wand, intensifying the pain…

Hermione could feel the rusty taste of blood filling her mouth as she bit down on her lip…focusing on anything but the intense pain bursting through her muscles; or the knowledge that in minutes she would be dead.

"No cries, yet." He leaned closer, eye arching. "Come, come. One bellow, nice and loud and I'll end it. Let Minerva know you're out here…"

Hermione could feel her back spasming…eyes rolling back, tears streaming down her cheeks…

_Won't let Minerva down…_

"How much more Hermione?"

_Hold on… _She could feel her mouth opening, a low pitch coming out…_ Minerva…_

And then she heard his name being called, as did he…and his concentration wavered as he snapped his head around. Black eyes narrowing as his brother-in-law fired a crucio curse at him.

"Damn you." He snapped deflecting the curse, "Haven't been courageous your whole life, now you chose to…"

Hermione reached over, fingers picking up her wand…and flicked it, anger coursing through her…slicing the back of his legs. And as he whipped his head around, Hermione was pushing herself upright…eyes narrowing, and then he was gone.

_Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxox_

Minerva couldn't feel her hands, lungs…as she pushed the fire aside. "Aber…forth!"

She could see his body, and stumbled forward…fire falling from the ceiling…as she collapsed onto her knees… "No…" She murmured…a pike protruding from his chest.

"Min…" He wheezed…barely loud enough over the fire.

"We're going…" She licked her lips…

Burn marks littering his white hair as he shook his head, "No…" And he forced his eyes to focus, "Jo… believed…" He gasped, "I…secret…kids…"

"Save your energy, Abe." She curled her one hand under the crook of his arm, "Come…"

"I…tell Albu..s how…lovely you…still look…" He smiled as the pain ebbed from his body.

"No, Abe." Her raw voice cracking… "Not like this."

"Kids…always love…them…you…" His jaw went slack…as the wall in the front began to give way, as if linked to the owner's life…

She closed her eyes as dry tears streamed down them…and apparated them to the street…

A rush of cool air hit her face as she gasped a deep breath of air…

"Minerva…" Hermione choked from beside her, as the Headmistress' collapsed against Aberforth's body. "Are you…" She kneeled down, "Aberforth?

Minerva rolled over, eyes blinking up…into concerned brown eyes, "Dead…" She wheezed, "Johannes?"

"Gone."

"Mother," Percival quietly stated in a rush as he slid down beside her, pulling her into his arms as his eyes welled up with tears at seeing his uncle's broken body…

"Your side." Hermione immediately noticing the large dark area upon her robes.

In one deft move, Percival's lean body was already standing…mother ensconced in his arms and with a glance to Hermione…he was gone.

George and Harry skidding to a stop, side by side. "Hermione." They breathed out, George bending over. "I got her, Harry." He stated as he leaned down, long arms wrapping around her back and scooping her legs up. "Hold on, Hermione." He whispered as he stood, and with a nod, apparated to St. Mungos.

Neville drew up next to Harry, "Blimey Harry. You alright?"

Harry knelt down next to Aberforth's body, "Yeah." He stated, eyes lifting to the collapsed burning bar.

Neville turned…and wound his wand in a quick swirling motion…pulling the water from the soil…the air from the wind to the south…enlarging it, and then with a focused motion that included his left hand…the ball of water grew…and at once, the flames sizzled out as the water burst upon the fire.

_oxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxoxo_

Percival stepped into his mother's chambers, his father immediately appearing in the portrait as he laid her upon the bed.

"Abe?" Soft words echoing through the warm chamber.

Tear filled eyes raised up to his fathers, and he gave a solitary shake of his head.

"N…o." Minerva croaked out, head turning to the side… her voice slipping into Gaelic…as she spoke, her son and husband doing the same. _"I'm sorry, my love." _She took a shuddering, wheezing breath. _"I tried."_

Gentle eyes took in his wife's bloody, singed blackened robes… _"Rest, love."_

_"Mother," _Percival's broken voice ringing in the still room, _"Please listen to father."_

_"Never good…" _She choked as she took in another rattling breathe, _"Two in agreement."_

_"Johannes?" _Albus asked.

_"He got away." _Percival stated, _"He was about to kill Hermione…"_

At those words, Minerva sat up…her body convulsing in a fit of coughs from the smoke still in her lungs…and at the first gasp of breath she asked with half panicked eyes, "Saw her…alive…"

"Yes," Percival reassuring his mother, "But she was fighting Johannes."

Minerva fell back onto the bed, tears in her eyes as Hogwarts' magic prickled her skin…the pain becoming dampened and augmented at once…she could feel her breathing ease as the pain along her ribs became unbearable…

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Albus asked, trying to distract their son from the disturbing scene.

"Harold looked utterly exhausted." Percival stated, "As did Harry. I think they both sustained mild injuries, Hermione looked to be a little worse for wear, but she'll live."

The light dissolved from around Minerva, body sagging into the bed…eyes fluttering close. "Just rest…a minute." She breathed out, exhaustion claiming her.

"Moth…"

"Don't." Albus stated and nodded to the door, which Percival went through with a frown. Albus waited momentarily, eyes gazing upon his wonderful wife, _"Aberforth says hello."_

_"I'm not watching his damn goat." _She muttered into her pillow.

Albus chuckled, _"He didn't think you would."_

_"He's there…" _She moved to get up to look at him…

_"Rest…" _Albus' eyes filled with sorrow, _"He's been here and gone…"_

_"Already?" _She asked as her body collapsed.

_"Time works different here, Tabby."_ He whispered, _"A lifetime here and gone in a heartbeat."_

_"I'm….so sorry." _She stated, tears running down her cheeks and into her pillow.

_"Don't be, it was wonderful to see and talk to him."_ He stated, wishing he could wrap his arms around his wife and take away her pain as her soft sobs evened off as did her breathing, _"But a part of me…" _His voice never reaching another soul's ears as he whispered into the dark, _"Wishes it had been you, love. I do miss you so."_ He gazed a moment more and then left his portrait for the one in the office to see his rapidly growing impatient son.

"Mother needs to be checked out by Helena."

"She'll be here after everyone else has been tended to." Albus' assured.

"But…"

"What she needs most is what she is doing, sleeping son." Albus stated, several other Headmasters and Headmistresses nodding their heads in agreement, "As she hasn't had much of late."

Tessa burst through the door, gasping, "Mother?"

Percival's gaze held that of his father's portrait for but a moment more before turning and informing his sister exactly what had happened.

_Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxox_

Helena's trembling fingers pulled the door aside, eyes immediately finding solace as they met her soul mate's blue ones. "Are you alright?" She breathed out, "Michaels said that you…" Her eyes remained fixed upon the white bandages binding around his right upper arm.

"I'm fine, love." He stood, arms out as his hands wrapped around her shoulders, kissing her forehead as he pulled her closer, into his arms.

"I didn't think we…" She felt his heart beating against her chest, as she nestled into his embrace, "Would be seeing each other again, today."

"For a minute…" His lips brushing across the top of her head, voice barely audible. "We weren't."

She tightened her arms around his chest, "God, Harold…"

"I know." He stated, acknowledging how close he had come to not coming back this morning. He could feel Helena's subtle shake within his arms. "George…was rather timely with his arrival."

She pulled back, hand coming up to caress his cheek, "Remind me to thank him…" A smile beginning to curl her lips as her finger stopped at the cleft in his chin and she pulled him ever so much closer. "Later." She whispered against his lips before covering them with her own.

He needed no encouragement, mouth immediately opening beneath her talented lips…tongues meeting…as her hand slipped through his hair, pulling him closer…and his dropping down her back…

Their kiss fueled by their love…as both poured their soul into it, as they expressed to the other exactly how much they truly loved the other.

With aching slowness, lips left their haven…eyes slowly opening…

"I love you, Harold." Helena whispered, a tender and intimate smile upon her lips, lighting her blue eyes from within. "My knight."

He tipped his head to the side, peering deeply into her eyes, voice gravely, "And you are my life, Helena." His lips briefly kissing a tear as it trailed down her cheek. "My love."

"The draw upon my magic…"

He nodded, "I'm sorry." He stepped back, "I created a bit too large of a veiled shield to enable Hermione to get to Minerva. Which…how is she?"

"Hermione…"

Harold interrupted, "Minerva."

"I wanted to see you before I went to check on her." Helena said, "as Percival took her back to Hogwarts." Helena smiled at the irony, "Of course the rest of the wizarding world thinks I'm seeing her right now at St. Mungos."

"And Hermione?"

"Barely conscious upon her arrival…"

_xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Ron's eyes swept over the charcoal of what remained of one of the wizard's body, "Do you know why Aberforth was attacked?"

Harry shook his head, "Not a clue." He frowned, eyes darting across the hundred feet to where the elder wizard's body laid. "And I don't know if we'll ever know the truth."

"What about the man taken to St. Mungos?" Ron asked standing.

"I don't know if he'll make it." Harry said, running his hand through his unruly hair. "He had significant blood loss from the massive amount of stone daggers embedded throughout his entire body."

"He's got a better chance than that bloke." Ron said turning to face Harry, "The stone daggers, sounds like McGonagall's handiwork" His friend merely shook his head.

"It was Hermione's…."

Surprise clearly evident upon the red head's face. "Really?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah." He tipped his head over to the four foot deep by three foot wide and another six long hole not even ten foot from the burnt remains. "She held off seven wizards until Harold got here."

"Seven…" He whistled, "How in blazes did she do that?"

Harry shrugged, "Don't know."

"Did you see _her_?" Ron's voice dropping, as he took a step closer. "Neville said…"

"She is hurt, Ron." Harry stated in a comforting tone.

Harry could detect a tremble within Ron's voice as he spoke, "Neville said that her hands and arms were covered in blood."

Harry reached out, "Ron…" Wrapping his hand upon Ron's shoulder, "She's alive."

Tear filled eyes met reassuring green ones, "She's so damn smart…and with the Headmistress…" His Adam's apple bobbed, as he swallowed hard. "I never thought…"

"I know mate…" Harry's voice beginning to crack too. "Me either."

_Xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo_

_A/N: Do to the length of this chapter; it has been broken into two chapters. Hope you enjoyed!_


	28. Chapter 26b October 27th, 2009

**Chapter 26b ~ October 27****th**** 2009 (Tuesday continued)**

Elgin opened the door to Minerva's room, giving Helena a nod as the first of the sun's rays streamed into her dearest friend's room.

"Thank you, Elgin." She stated walking in, lighting several candles as she did.

"Blondie's." He tipped his head to her, as Helena turned to the bed and felt her breath catch at the burnt and bloody state of Minerva's once emerald robes. "Dear Merlin, Minerva…" She stepped forward as she pulled out her wand.

Elgin drifted to the corner, quietly watching as Blondie began casting a series of spells, their colors blending in with the sun's morning light. She was one of the few witches or wizards who he enjoyed watching as they cast their magic, her skill truly artful. _It was beautiful, potent…though he would never tell her_, he thought as she drew her wand back, the magic dissipating in a flurry of spidery tendrils.

Helena slipped her wand into her robes, noticing that Elgin quietly vanished from the corner. _A most unusual and stouthearted friend, _Helena thought of the little house elf as she sat upon the edge of the bed. "Minerva." She stated. "I know you're tired, but I need to talk to you."

Minerva cracked her eyes open, feeling the metal of the frame pushing against her temple she involuntarily rolled onto her back, causing a soft gasp from the woman beside her.

"That blood was from you?" Came the terse reply and then a release along her side as the fabric gave way.

"You are ruining my robes." Minerva's gravelly voice burning as she spoke, her throat and mouth as dry as a desert.

Helena's hand was already pulling the fabric farther away from the stained area, "I believe you had that well in hand, already."

"What time…" Minerva tried to lick her lips, tongue almost sticking to them. "Is it?" She croaked out, cringing at the sound of her own voice.

"Just after seven." Helena muttered as she saw the evidence of Minerva's most recent wound, but it was far worse than usual. "What happened?" She asked as she ran a tender hand along the red and partially inflamed skin that looked as though it had been seared closed.

Minerva's hand reached over, sliding along her side and she groaned. "A pain…"

"Elgin," Helena knowing that neither woman could listen to Minerva's parched speech. At once, Elgin appeared, yellow eyes blinking from one woman to the other.

"Yes."

"A glass of…" Minerva tried to swallow again, as Helena finished. "Please make that a pitcher of water, Elgin. And if you would ensure that Minerva has a lot of fluid today, she is significantly dehydrated."

"At once Blondie's." And he was gone in a flash, and before either could resume their conversation a pitcher with ice was suddenly beside her table, a glass with water already too.

Helena picked up the glass and handed it to Minerva, after she pushed herself upright enough to drink the water. Helena waited as Minerva swallowed half the contents of the glass at once, and then proceeded to finish the rest before beginning to reach over, Helena taking the glass from her hand. "Let me." She set it back down, eyes returning to Minerva who sank back into her bed.

"That's marginally better." She said, feeling as though she could upend the pitcher at once, but knew that a lot of liquid at once would not quench her bodies thirst.

"Your side." Helena redirected back to the topic. "Why is it still red and inflamed? Hogwarts' magic has always healed your wounds, even your severe ones never leaving marks or scars."

"It did upon my return from Madrid," Minerva stated, "I think it depends upon the damage of the wound." Her right hand reaching over her chest, gently touching the skin. "As this was a rictasempta curse." Minerva turned her head, eyes blinking as she fully woke and told Helena what had happened; her arrival, Hog's Head, the curse, the floor disappearing…

…_Minerva felt a timber shift as she clawed her way upright, dizzy from the blood loss. Despite the oppressive heat, the smoke, the flames…Minerva could see the dark stain that matted her robes, down her side to the mid of her thigh. She needed to stop the bleeding, before she bled out._

_Fingers tightening around her wand, she summoned an intact bottle from the far side of the bar. She caught it with one hand, and twisted the metal cap off…dropping the bottle to the floor. She pointed her wand, and three flicks a twist, and three spells later, the paper-thin metal lid had grown to a metal plate with a handle to the side._

_Another five seconds passed as she cast two additional spells, and she felt herself swallow down her fear and jammed the cherry red metal into her side…_

_A scream ripped from her throat as she dropped to her knees, the steaming metal clattering to the floor…_

Helena felt upset to her stomach as Minerva finished her tale, of finding Aberforth, his last words…

"And then Percival brought me back here." Minerva's voice still weak, though her eyes already held her unyielding resolve. "I know you already ran your diagnostics," She pushed herself fully upright, "How bad?"

Helena shrugged, "All things considered, from what I can tell, it hardly effected your magical stores. You're holding right at forty…"

"And the others…" She adjusted her glasses, "Was anyone seriously hurt?"

Helena tiredly ran a hand up through her blond hair, her own fatigue from the last twenty-four hours more than catching up to her. "I'll need to give you a potion…"

Minerva reached out, grasping Helena's hand. "Who?" She whispered, knowing her friend far too well.

"Hermione is…"

Minerva wasn't able to keep the worry from flickering across her face as Helena continued on, and she forced herself to listen to the words and not permit her thoughts to stray.

"With Michaels as we speak." Helena stated, concern evident in Minerva's face, "From what I've pieced together, she fought Johannes…"

Minerva gave Helena a brief nod.

"And at some point, several splinters peppered her hands and arms. She was lucky that she was able to continue to grip her wand, however, it'll be a day before she'll be permitted to do any finer motor movements with her hands. She also had a deep pair of puncture wounds in her thigh that were dissolving tissue and bone." Helena paused as she gave an internal debate on whether to share the last bit of information. Under most circumstances, she wouldn't; patient confidentiality. But…these weren't most circumstances… and Minerva needed to know that next time Hermione dueled that there may be a hesitation…the bodies involuntary response for self preservation and not to have to suffer intense pain again. And if Hermione had to face Johannes again, it may be more than a few seconds of hesitation…

Minerva felt her jaw tighten, the muscle rippling beneath it as she waited, knowing that Helena was debating…and knowing that it was up to Helena to share the information. No amount of prodding or coaxing would pry it lose…

With a heavy sigh, she met Minerva's gaze. "Dear, this can't go any further."

She paused, "Not even to the Order, including Ron or Harry and Ginny…because it's her choice who knows and who doesn't."

Minerva felt trepidation swelling through her system, "Helena, what happened?"

"She suffered the crucio curse, intently."

"Is she going to be alright?" Minerva asked her Gaelic ancestry very distinct as a swell of emotion clenched in her chest.

Helena nodded, "Yes." She replied instantly, "However, the stress upon her back muscles and her spinal column was extensive. The damage looked like what I typically used to see after an hour perhaps even an hour and a half of torture, not minutes."

Minerva felt as though she had been stunned, momentarily unable to think, breathe, and even blink as her mind absorbed Helena's statement. _The crucio curse…_she forced herself to move forward and not think of exactly _how _much pain the crucio curse could cause, or that the person who had been subjected to it had been Hermione. "Was the damage from the current crucio, or could some of it been re-aggravated from her experience thirteen years ago?"

At this, Helena's brows narrowed, "Thirteen years…there is nothing in her chart."

Emerald eyes narrowed, as she recalled her brief conversation two days following the battle of Hogwarts and how Hermione had assured her she had seen a healer just the day prior; there had been no lasting damage done by Bellatrix. "She and Harry had been captured at the Malfoy Manor, and Hermione being of a…" Her own voice catching, as she recalled the conversation from last eve; the topic the very same – lineage. "Muggle lineage had been tortured by Bellatrix while being questioned before the battle at Hogwarts."

"It's not in the chart, dear. However, when I return, I'll verify that the stress cracks along her spine were not old stress cracks that were re-injured."

Minerva absently nodded as she replied, "Thank you." The events from earlier beginning to catch up with her. Hermione had been injured…Aberforth was dead. Another member of the family, killed. And she felt her heart close off marginally more; trying to keep the sting at bay…the guilt from coursing over her soul as she recalled his words; that Johannes had come believing he was one of the children's or even her own secret keeper.

"Minerva…" Helena's hand softly squeezing the other woman's.

Emerald eyes refocused, a faint smile upon her face, "Sorry, Helena. I was just…"

Helena finished for her, "Lost in thought."

"I was thinking about Aberforth and secret keepers." Her voice turning grave. "And perception, dear. As Johannes knows you are my best friend."

A long second ticked by, Helena meeting Minerva's piercing gaze and holding it.

"Harold and I have been in danger before; this is no different."

"It is," Minerva stated as a haze fell upon blue eyes, obscuring them from view. "And you know it, your eyes give you away."

Helena's jaw flexed, "Damn you, Minerva…" She snapped, "And your attention to detail...and observation skills."

Minerva waited, quietly as Helena mulled over Minerva's statement.

"Harold…this morning…" She clenched her jaw, an obvious display of her own discomfort at the topic. "Had to use the bond, he cast some type of a veiled shield…"

Minerva perked up at the phrase, "Did he, really?"

Helena frowned at her expression, "He said he did, though he had to cast it a bit larger to enable Hermione to get to you."

"Larger?" Minerva inquired, "It's near impossible to cast one, let alone a stable one that is just large enough for one person…"

"That explains the tremendous drain I felt." She mumbled, "We've only used our bond for magical stores twice before…"

"Your children." Minerva easily recalled the conversations with Helena after each time.

"And now, today…" She withdrew her hand from Minerva's, "I didn't think he'd be coming home; and I would be…" Tears welled up in her eyes, "Joining him, elsewhere."

"He made it…" Minerva stated, reassuringly. "You both did."

Helena's face cracked a smile, "Good thing…as _you _interrupted us this morning…"

Minerva frowned, "It was just after three…"

"And I had just arrived home less than a half hour prior…and I would very much hate to leave something like _that_ unfinished."

Minerva felt a blush break out upon her neck, "I'm sure Dilys will be scarce for weeks."

Helena chortled, "I concur, but I think Harold's going to flip the portrait over too."

"He can't..." Minerva's voice growing distant, filled with longing. "It's charmed…"

"I'm sure he'll find a way…"

Minerva's eyes glazed over with tears, "Be thankful, Helena…" She whispered, "As I would give anything for another moment…" A tear slipping down her cheek, voice raw, "And though you may have felt scared today, Helena don't be. For no matter what, you'll be with him and he with you."

Helena pushed herself closer, arms encircling Minerva's tattered robes. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have something so integral, intimate…ripped away…"

"I am _so_ thankful, you never will." Minerva stated as the warmth of the embrace began to permeate her skin, "But…Helena…" She pushed back far enough to stare into the very familiar face, "You must promise me not to take any undue risks, Harold too."

"You can't ask us to just stand by…" Helena's eyes narrowing as the muscles in her back went rigid, preparing for a confrontation.

"I am not asking you to, but…be smart. Johannes knows that you both are my best friends, and I wouldn't doubt if he believes that you or Harold to be either the children's or my secret keeper."

Helena's eyes softened, "We know the risks, dear."

"I don't want anything to happen to either of you." She let her head fall upon Helena's shoulder, "You both deserve a long life."

Helena's voice muffled partially by Minerva's hair as she replied, "So do you, dear." She ran her hand up her friend's back, "So do you."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

George stepped into the room as a rotund man with thinning hair in olive robes exited, "Gave me a bit of a scare there, love." He stated a huge bouquet of yellow tulips, mixed with sprigs of lavender, baby's breath and a dozen multi-colored roses interspersed as he set them upon the table. Leaning over, he gave her a kiss on her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione let her head fall back onto the pillow, exhausted as George sat down. "Tired." She muttered, mildly annoyed at not having seen Helena. Upon waking about twenty minutes ago, she had been greeted by Healer Michaels, the man who had just left. He was nice, explained her condition and that she would be staying until tomorrow for observation. "And like I was knocked off my broom by a bludger 15 meters off the ground, and was only able to decelerate for the last one."

"What did the healer say?" He asked taking her hand within his.

Hermione eyed his green ones; deciding on how much to tell George about the extent of her injuries. As she was still trying to process what Michaels had just stated.

"That…" She squeezed his hand, "I was lucky."

George raised his brow, "Lucky?"

"Johannes struck me with the crucio curse wanting me to call for Minerva, and as I didn't…"

"He increased the pain." His eyes softening in sympathy. "How significant is the damage?"

"I only ask that this remains between us, George."

"Hermione, surely Ron and Harry…"

"Will worry." She interjected.

"And I won't?" He quipped, a few long strands of hair falling against his cheek.

"It's different." She said, eyes pleading.

Her gaze was too much, and within seconds he found himself acquiescing. "Alright. But only the crucio…"

"That's all I ask." She stated feeling relieved and began recanting her story and the effects from her battles. George chimed in several times, both comparing where they were, and she felt her sides pull in pain from the sheer laughter as he described his 'evening' attire.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Minerva's eyes narrowed as she read the content of the letter that had been marked _urgent, _the students continued on with their lesson; second years Slytherin and Gryffindors transfiguring mice into water goblets. She could feel her lips curl into a frown after the first two sentences and banished the letter to her office, upstairs. This _urgent _letter was the same as the other two dozen plus this morning; concerning Hermione and the announcement of her divorce with Ronald. Only a third of this morning's had been demanding of Hermione's immediate dismissal; the other two thirds were inquiring if suitors were permitted access to Hogwarts for such things as dinners, a stroll upon the grounds, all the way up to inquiring about the personal living arrangements of Professor Granger and her spouse or significant other.

She would be writing virtually the same letter; and had half a mind to set up her auto-quill and responding with a form letter.

"Don't flourish your wand, Mr. Stephen. Quick, precise and fluid…" She gave a demonstration of the wand movement, "As you say the incantation."

"Yes, Headmistress…" He stated, practicing harder. After all, it wasn't every day that the Headmistress taught a class.

Minerva glided away, thoughts returning to the subject of the letters. Hermione…she had spoken a bit more with Helena regarding the younger woman's health and return to Hogwarts. It would be tomorrow morning at the earliest and probably after evening meal in reality before Hermione would return, and the day after tomorrow before she would be able to resume teaching.

Minerva paused along the side row, eyes sweeping over the students, ears perked as she listened to them reciting the spell. It was refreshing to step into a classroom and teach, it had been two years since she had; it had been to cover Filius' classes for the morning.

In some ways she found she missed it…

A tale wiggling in the form of a cup caused her to stride across the room…

_In other ways she didn't_, she thought as a petrified Slytherin girl stared up at her. "I'm sorry, Professor…I…"

Minerva waved her wand, the mouse resuming its prior form. "More enunciation on the first 'e' Miss Stanley, you're losing it when you pronounce, aleverto."

"Yes, Professor…" She stated, quickly grabbing her wand back up and trying again not wanting to give cause for the Headmistress to turn her into a mouse and chase her throughout the castle in her animagus state.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoo

Hermione's eyes snapped to the door as it opened, hoping to see Helena to inquire about Minerva or even Minerva, but instead her eyes landed upon her recently announced…divorced husband; Ron.

"Hi." He stated, shuffling in. A small bouquet of carnations, daisies and a few roses interspersed gripped in his fingers.

"Hi." She replied as he set them in the window.

"Got…" He nodded to them, "You a little something."

"Thanks Ron."

He ran his hand through his hair, "Hermione, you almost…what were you thinking?" He asked, voice strained in an effort to keep it level.

"I'm not doing this today, Ron." An edge lining her words.

"It's just…you almost died." A raw tenderness was reflected in his blue eyes as he leaned forward, hands grasping the footboard.

"I didn't, Ron." She stated matter a factly, "I was injured. Nothing more."

"But you could have…"

"Don't…" She shook her head, "Even go there, Ronald. You of all people, citing to me the dangers of what just happened. You're an auror for Merlin's sake."

"An auror who is trained to come back alive…"

Hermione could feel her anger rising, voice heightened, "And what, I'm not!"

"I didn't say that." He pushed himself away from the bed, "Dammit, Hermione." He muttered, utterly frustrated at his wife. _Correction_, he thought to himself, _ex-wife_. "What about the children?"

"And if you were to be killed tomorrow, what about the children then?"

His lips were drawn thin, "You are an obtuse woman, thinking about yourself and what you want."

"I thought that's what you were, Ron." She retorted.

He drew up beside the bed, "No." His eyes watering, "I go do my job, so you…and the children would be safe."

"That's what I'm doing too Ron." She replied, the anger ebbing from her voice.

"And the children?" He sat on the edge of the bed, "What do we do about them?"

"We'll talk about it…" She stated tiredly, head fully resting upon the pillows, "This weekend."

"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" He asked gently.

"This?" She questioned, "Regarding this weekend, I'm too tired Ron."

"No..." He shook his head, red locks flying everywhere. "Helping the Headmistress and the Order."

Hermione felt her world stop at his words…not because she was considering stopping, but because, if anything, last night had crystallized even further her determination to see this through. To help stop Johannes…protect the children…protect the other professors, the Order members, Minerva's family…and her heart seized at the last thought of protecting Minerva. It was almost as strong of an emotion as when the men last night had taunted her about not returning to her children…and she found her voice quietly stating, "No, Ron. You're not going to talk me out of this."

_Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

Minerva patiently waited for the last fifth year Ravenclaw to exit the room, the door no sooner closing and she already striding toward a blue door that had just appeared at the back of the classroom. Her fingers were upon the handle when the door to the classroom creaked, and Minerva fought off a wave of annoyance. It was not any of the students' fault that she was extremely pressed for time today and with a sigh the door vanished as the one to the classroom opened; and she was turning towards it.

"Minerva." Filius breathed out, "I'm glad I caught you."

Minerva smiled at him, "I was just stepping out." She waved her hand, the blue door re-appearing and at once the door behind Filius closed.

"You forwarded three letters from previous…" He quickly stepped towards her, continuing to talk as she opened the door. "Professors who would like to move their family and themselves into Hogwarts."

Minerva entered, Filius following as the torches burst to life within the internal passageway. "Yes." She stated, "I fear that this next week, my schedule is chaotic at best and I had promised them they could move in as of the 31st." They turned the corner, trickles of light spilling across aged, faded coloring doors.

"Are you sure this is wise, Minerva?" He asked as they stepped around a second corner, Minerva's hand already upon a maroon door.

"Do you have any other options, Filius?" She opened the door and stepped out into her living room.

"No." Filius thinking back to a time when he would have marveled at how quickly they had arrived here. Initially, upon becoming the Deputy he had rarely used the internal passageways, and it hadn't been until the last several years that he had become comfortable with them. Minerva had agreed and they had shown Pomona shortly after, she still muttered about never ending up where she had intended. "I just worry about the safety of the children."

"As do I," She replied while crossing her living room and began descending the steps, immediately noticing that her son was standing before her desk. "However, they are ex-professors and understand the necessity of the children's welfare."

Filius paused at the top of the steps waited until Minerva had finished, and then tapped the banister with his wand. The steps immediately reformed to a shallower drop off, enabling him to quickly descend. "What about the perfunctory aspects of Hogwarts? The cost of the linens, food, water…"

Minerva stopped and met her Deputy's gaze, "Regarding the financial burden, if the governor's say anything, I will personally offset the cost…"

"Mother…" Percival couldn't believe his ears. He knew his parents had always been rather affluent, but to offset a budgetary matter for Hogwarts…that could be well into the tens of thousands of galleons. She would lose the Ridge…or the Manor, "You can't…"

Minerva's head snapped around, drilling him with her piercing gaze. "I most certainly can."

"But the Manor or the Ridge, the cost of their upkeep…"

Minerva knew that her children had little concept of how much money existed within the McGonagall and Dumbledore vaults. As they had only ever seen the McDore vault, which in comparison was quite sparse, though the children often commented how their parents never seemed to lack money. "I have ample funds, Percival." She snapped, causing him to clap his mouth shut. She turned back to Filius, "As for the setup, work with Tily, as Elgin has been quite busy."

Filius nodded, "Of course." He stated, knowing that Tily was Minerva's primary house elf, but as of late, that burden had seemed to shift to Elgin. "But what of assigned house elves for the ex-professors?"

"If we have too many agree, there won't be enough elves per guests. Begin to work a rotating schedule with Tily and Elgin. Also," She stepped around her desk, "They'll need to sign a," She paused at the word, eyes narrowing, "Contract." She stated simply holding Filius' golden gaze for a moment, ensuring that he understood exactly what she was referring too.

At those words, he breathed a sigh of relief. Minerva wanted their guests, even though they were ex-professors to sign a binding contract, the same one that all current professors had to sign about duty to Hogwarts and the children. "Very well."

"Percival, what can I help you with?" She asked without preamble.

"Tessa and I wanted to know if you would be available this afternoon to help plan Uncle Abe's funeral arrangements?"

"No." She tersely replied, "I won't. I was due at the Ministry five minutes ago, have two more classes to teach after lunch, and am due to meet with the governors following classes." She reached into the container, pulling out the floo powder from within. "I trust yours and Tessa's judgment."

"Is there anything special…" His voice died away as Minerva flicked her wrist, the powder jumping from her hand.

"Filius, Percival." She stated, not waiting for a reply or additional conversation as she stepped into the green flames and was gone.

Percival stood there, mouth agape. His mother rarely left in such a hurry, and never by floo. "Since when did mother start using the floo network?"

Filius knew better than to answer and shrugged, "For some time I believe." He merely stated.

Percival glanced up to the portraits to see if any would give additional clues however, all of them were now pretending to sleep, including the portrait of his father. "I find that hard to believe." He muttered as he stepped over to the grate, grabbing some powder. "She hates to floo." A worried look passed over the younger wizard's face, "And, did she seem more agitated than usual?" He held up his hand, and shook his head. "Forget I said anything, it's probably just after last night, Abe's death..."

Filius kept his face neutral while responding, "She's quite busy, lad. She is covering Professor Granger's class in addition to everything else that happened last night and I know that during breakfast alone she received twenty letters from parents, families, the Minister. Give my best to your sister." He watched as the wizard frowned but nodded, and then vanished.

"He was right, you know." Albus' voice suddenly drifting across the room.

Filius raised his head, looking into the eerie almost lifelike gaze of his old friend. "I know." Filius tiredly replied. "Give it a couple of days, she'll find her balance again."

"True." The portrait's eyes beginning to draw closed, indicating that he was not going to be conversing further.

"I was sorry to hear about Aberforth, Albus." Filius stated, "He was a good man."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxoxxo

Hermione followed Molly's gaze as the door opened, revealing a tired looking middle-aged witch with auburn hair and green eyes. Eyes she was familiar with, had stared into…but these were perhaps a shade lighter than her mothers'; though they held the same intensity. "Good afternoon." Tessa's voice rolled over the other two witches.

"Tessa," Molly smiled pointing to the chair.

Tessa's eyes darted from Molly to Hermione and then back, "Could you excuse me for just a moment, Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly frowned as she met the piercing green gaze, a gaze that looked so familiar and yet she couldn't quite place. She wasn't apt to leave Hermione alone, despite everything going on between her son and Hermione; she was the mother of Rose and Hugo. "I think it would be better…"

Hermione laid a light hand upon Molly's, "I'll be alright, Molly." She stated reassuringly, "We just need a minute."

Molly pursed her lips, obvious she didn't like the notion one bit. However, she

finally stood, "Alright." She grabbed her shawl, "I'm going down to the tea room for something to drink. Would either of you like something?"

"I am fine, thank you Mrs. Weasley." Tessa politely replied.

"Perhaps some juice." Hermione stated.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, dear." Molly spun around pausing in front of Tessa, voice low but direct. "She's not up to strenuous conversation."

Tessa nodded, "That is not my intent, I can assure you, Ma'am." Molly stared into her strangely familiar eyes for another minute and then turned and left. Tessa waiting until the door closed before pulling her wand out and casting a simple silencing charm upon the room; meeting brown eyes with her own. "I just wanted to say thank you for trying to save Aberforth."

"I'm sorry we didn't." Hermione heartfeltly replied.

Tessa felt her curiosity get the better of her, taking a step closer. "Just one question, before I go."

Hermione nodded, "Of course."

"Why did you leave Harold to go and try and save my mother and uncle?"

Hermione felt her brow furlough, _what kind of question was that?_ She thought, shaking her head, "I don't believe you asked that, Tessa. If you don't know…"

Tessa leaned forward, "Few people have entered into mother's life without _wanting _something in return, Hermione. What do you want?"

Hermione pushed herself upright, her back protesting as she met Tessa's burning gaze with her own. "I went last night because I'm in the Order and I believe in helping everyone. No one should be left to fight alone. That _includes_ your uncle and mother. And as for your mother," Her voice becoming hard, "She is a friend who I want nothing from other than friendship if she so chooses to give."

Tessa's demeanor instantly softened, "I am sorry, Hermione…" She seemed to physically shrink away, "It's just that she's been through so much and with everything else…"

"I understand." Hermione's own tone easing as she sank back into the pillows. "But, rest assured, I want nothing but the best for your mother."

Green eyes measured the sincerity behind brown ones for several seconds and then finally nodded. "Well, then…" She flicked her wrist only two seconds before the door reopened, Molly coming back in, "Again, my sincerest thanks."

Hermione smiled at the other witch, and with a tilt of head in respect to her, she bid both witches good day and gracefully left through the open door.

Molly eyed Hermione, "Everything alright dear?" She handed Hermione a small pumpkin juice.

Hermione's gaze remained riveted on the door for a second more before taking the drink from her mother-in-law. "Quite."

oxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxox

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Shaw and you'll be serving detention with Mr. Filch for the remainder of the week."

Shaw's ears turned pink, but he merely ducked his head. Several Slytherins beginning to taunt him behind Minerva's back.

"And to you Mr. Evert, Mr. Rae and Mr. Tyrus, another face and you'll each be joining him. Ten points from Slytherin." She said turning to face them, brow arched.

A ripple of smiles lifted the Gryffindors' spirits at the equity Professor McGonagall had.

"Now, turn your books to page 82." Minerva walked back towards the chalkboard, but stopped at seeing a hand shoot up to her right. "Miss Collins?"

A brown haired, brown-eyed girl stared at Minerva…and for a hairs breath of a moment; it was like stepping back in time. Hermione was starring at her, face portraying her eagerness to learn; overwhelming trust within her professors and her fierce loyalty to her friends. _Why did I ask which I never should have, nor had a right to? Of course she would say yes, out of obligation…and now she is laying in St. Mungos injured, and almost killed by the hands of Johannes._

"How difficult is it to become an animagus?" The young voice asked, pulling Minerva back from her thoughts and to the moment at hand; and she found that she had the classes undivided attention.

Much like Hermione seemed to occupy her thoughts today…

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxo

Ginny chuckled, "And we kept hearing this annoying voice yelling, Potter."

Hermione felt her own lips curling at the story.

"Harry was grumbling, and then came another yell, Potter…" Ginny fought for a breath, "At that point Harry stumbled out of bed, hitting his ankle as he dropped his glasses. And Severus yelled again…"

"Potter." Hermione helped, a full-blown smile erupting onto her face.

"I'm not complaining," Ginny said, the lightness of her smile still evident in her tone, "But you'd think he'd try and be a little less…I don't know, Snape like."

"I doubt that'll happen anytime soon."

"One can hope." Ginny quipped.

"Much like how he continually hopes that you'll move out from Godric's Hollow."

An outright laugh burst forth from Ginny's lips, "Like that'll happen."

"My point exactly." Hermione replied, eyes drooping.

"I should get going," Ginny said, "Besides, I'm sure Harry, and several others will be here to visit shortly."

As if on cue, the door handle rattled, and Hermione's eyes darted to the door…and she felt a pang of disappointment as Harry stepped into the room, it was not who she had hoped…

"Hi…ya…Hermione." He said, smile lighting his eyes and face, "Hello, love." He said into Ginny's embrace as he picked her up. "I found these," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parcel. Ginny adjusted, moving to his side as he enlarged the package, "And thought you might enjoy them, seeing as you can't do magic for just a bit longer."

Hermione found herself smiling as clumsy hands pulled open the ribbon, and peeled back the paper to reveal two books. The third book in a series from a muggle author, Dan Brown, _The Lost Symbol_. The other book caused Hermione to chuckle, _Tricky Transfigurations_, by Minerva McGonagall. "They're perfect." She said as he leaned over, enabling her to give him a hug. "Where did you find this?" She asked pointing the book authored by Minerva. "It's been out of print for decades."

"A little shop on the south side of Dublin." Harry said, "In a muggle shop. The shopkeeper thought it was a book of jokes. Said he had picked up in an estate sale years ago." He sat down, Ginny sitting on the edge of his leg. "Why is it out of print?"

"There…" Hermione carefully opened the book, "Are apparently transfiguration incantations that are deemed second degree mastery and above."

"Why wouldn't they be allowed to print?" Ginny asked, frowning. "You'd think if someone wanted to be a transfiguration master, they'd need to know how to do them."

"She wrote this shortly after the war with Grindlewald, before she herself was a second degree master." Hermione said scanning the page. "I'm guessing she affronted a few wizards or witches in the field. From what I've found, there was only one printing done of the book, and five hundred copies at that."

"She'll have it devoured before she dozes off." Ginny said, chuckling as Hermione flipped the page.

"I give her two hours…" Harry chimed in, causing Hermione to blush as she lifted her eyes up to theirs. "Tops."

"Thank you, Harry." She stated closing the book, fingers still resting on the leather cover. "They're wonderful."

Harry nodded, "Quite welcome." His eyes fell to the book and back to Hermione, "Don't worry, 'Mione, I won't keep you from it for long. What did the healer have to say?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Minerva stepped out from the room, shoulders sagging. The meeting had been utterly exhausting. The Governors concern for the overall welfare of the school and herself had been touching…but the two hours she had spent reassuring them about the warding structure and the patrols by the teachers had taken tact, diplomacy, assurances even her vow that she was doing everything possible to keep Hogwarts and the children safe.

She tiredly reached into her robes pulling out her pocket watch. It was already half past eight. Tucking her watch away, she drew her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders and began walking away from the wards. The air was growing cold, a bite was upon it as kissed her cheeks.

_Almost time for quidditch,_ she thought as she leaned upon her walking stick, stepping forward. The next seven weeks would host four quidditch games before the holidays began. Four quidditch games. The thought alone warmed her soul. She always did love watching a good game, not quite as much as she enjoyed playing in one; but…with age and injury, one had to refine their likes.

She felt the prickle of the wards dissipate, and she paused…debating on whether to return to Hogwarts or stop by for a brief visit and see how Hermione was doing. Part of her longed to start a fire in her office and begin the lengthy piles of correspondence upon her desk; permitting her a few hours of sleep this evening which she desperately needed. In addition, she also needed to, at the very least, fire call Percival and Tessa to inquire what they had decided to do for Aberforth. And then there was Aberforth's estate…she closed her eyes, the work seemingly endless. The other part of her wished to see Hermione for herself, to confirm that she had not been severely wounded. That her personal desire to capture or kill Johannes had not cost another's life; the list was already becoming more than she could bear.

_A few minutes_, she thought…and with a pop, she was gone and standing in the Atrium of St. Mungos.

"Headmistress." One of the receptionists stated, "What is the nature of your visit?"

Minerva smiled at the young witch, eyes sweeping across the lobby area. It would seem that since this morning, Helena had already reinstated St. Mungos protocol when at war. No longer were guests able to travel into the prestigious hospital without signing in, and if things continued in a downward spiral, wands would have to be checked in the reception area except for designated personnel. Finally, she brought her gaze back to the stationed healer, "I'm here to visit Hermione Granger."

The young woman nodded, "Of course." She flipped a piece of parchment. "Room 417. I'm sure you know the way."

"Do I need to log anything?" Minerva inquired.

"I logged you in, Ma'am." She airily stated before returning to her filing.

"Thank you." Minerva replied, her gait slow and distinct as it echoed off the marble floors. Unlike during the day, it had become quiet, with few persons coming and going, much like the Ministry at this hour.

She stepped from the elevator on the fourth floor and turned to the right. The young witch had been correct, she did know the layout of St. Mungos. Far better than she ever wanted to.

Sighing, she morphed her walking stick back into her wand, to forgo the noise. It did not do to keep patients awake from the noise of her walking stick and she gimped steadily down the hall.

She was at 415 and was about to push open 417, the door slightly ajar when the words from inside stopped her…

"When I arrived and I saw the sheer amount of dirt that you had used to shield yourself and the scorch marks across the grass…" Angelina's distinct cadence washing over Minerva's skin. "Relieved doesn't begin to describe how I felt to hear that you would be alright."

She could hear Hermione's soft reassurance and then her words were swallowed, and a second ticked by, Minerva about to enter, but then heard the release of lips. Gingerly, she took a step back, and turned around not wanting to interrupt what was obviously a private moment.

_Besides,_ she thought, _I have marking and correspondence I should be doing anyways. _Her steps back were short and jilted, her mind on why Hermione would choose to begin a relationship with someone who was similar to the man she just left. She was about to enter the elevator, when Helena stepped off practically bumping into her.

"Minerva." Helena's face split into a grin. "Just finish seeing Hermione?"

Minerva's mask descended upon her face in a heartbeat, causing Helena to shy back. "No, I was about to, but I just received…" She pulled out one of the ten letters she had received earlier during her meeting with the Governors. "And I'm needed back at Hogwarts." She shoved the letter back into her robes, not enabling Helena to read the writing.

"Everything alright?" Helena asked touching her friend's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

Minerva forced a smile, "A bit tired dear."

Helena's eyes swept over Minerva's visage, inwardly frowning. The blasted woman was too damn good at Glamour charms and had a poker face that would wear out the gargoyle guarding her rooms. But, the look upon her face before she had seen Helena…when she had glanced up…it had been poignant and then gone…

Helena hooked her arm around Minerva's, "Come. Take two minutes and see your protégé." She was already dragging Minerva towards Hermione's room. "I'm sure she'll welcome the company."

Minerva swallowed her commentary how she very much doubted that Hermione would be delighted to see either of them at this point if Angelina was still there. "How's Adam doing?" She asked, changing the topic. Silently hoping that Angelina would be gone upon their arrival, and another part hoping that she wasn't. But, as they neared…and Minerva had not seen Angelina leave…she knew that she would be within Hermione's rooms.

"It's going to be touch and go for another week. There's an infection that has already began in his face and we have a drawing salve upon it; along with a regiment of potions, but the damage, as you know, was significant."

"Has he regained consciousness?" Minerva asked as they passed room 413.

"Not yet," Helena replied, "But when he does, he'll be in a lot of pain." She said pausing to meet Minerva's gaze, her left hand resting lightly upon the handle. "He's strong."

Minerva squeezed the arm within hers. "Keep that in mind."

Helena smiled, "You too."

They shared a meaningful look and then Helena opened the door.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Hermione heard the door open; Angelina glancing over too and she felt a smile break upon her face as Helena and Minerva stepped in.

"Good evening, Hermione." Helena stated and then turned to the obviously active young woman standing opposite of the door. "Angelina."

"Hermione…" Minerva stated nodding, "Angelina."

"Healer Harrison, Professor McGonagall." Angelina replied suddenly feeling out of place. "I was just leaving." She turned to Hermione and leaned over the bed, kissing Hermione on the forehead. "Glad you're safe." She stated quietly before standing and with a nod left the room.

Helena's eyes followed the other woman as she walked from the room and turned back, a smile pulling upon her lips. "She's pretty, Hermione."

Hermione blushed at Helena's comment, "It's not like that." Hermione stated averting her eyes from Helena to Minerva. And almost winced at the stone face greeting her eyes. Tone devoid of emotion as Minerva joined in.

"Quite." Minerva forced the word from her throat as Hermione's gaze turned to her. And she found herself staring into chocolate eyes…and she pushed a smile upon her lips. "I'm sorry you were injured."

"Nonsense." Hermione stated, "It's not like you weren't." She raised her brow, daring the other woman to dispute her statement.

Helena laughed outright. "Ohh…How well she knows you, Minerva."

"Perhaps a wee bit." Minerva replied, the muscles within her face relaxing as a real smile took place of her fraudulent one. "But, I, however, did not need treatment. You did."

Helena chuckled, leaning back against the wall…watching the two women's repartee.

"A mere formality, as you probably inhaled enough smoke to smoke your holiday ham."

Helena clamped a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. It was such a rarity to watch someone else give Minerva a hard time…and do it well.

"Only half a ham. As I did try and not breathe for quite a bit of time upon entering."

"Another layer of oxygen deprivation." Hermione quipped. "I'm sure your lungs were thankful."

"Neither of which was fatal, however," Minerva's cadence became serious, "Yours could very well have been."

"As could have yours." Hermione replied.

"Mine, was as usual, a nuisance." Minerva sat down next to Hermione, "However, the flesh, tissue and bone eating spell along with the crucio…"

Hermione's face flinched, eyes darting to Helena. "I thought you said…"

"She needs to know that you may have some reservations, Hermione." Helena calmly interjected. "And what they are caused from." She took a step closer and sat between them slightly away from the bed, forming a triangle. "I have not asked what in blazes you," She directed to Minerva, "Are searching for nor where you are gallivanting off to. Nor have I asked you," She turned to Hermione, "For information." She frowned, "I only know that you are both going after Johannes or are seeking leads outside of even the Order, which I have no problems with. But, that also means that you both…must know of the other's limitations. Hermione, your being subjected to the crucio curse could cause you to pause in a key moment. Minerva has a right to know that."

"Helena…" Minerva swallowed, Hermione glanced away. "Could you give us a few minutes?"

Helena eyed the two witches and nodded. "Don't stay too long Minerva, not only do you need the sleep. She does too." Standing, she leaned over and kissed Minerva's forehead. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." She turned to Hermione, "Kick her out shortly if she hasn't left. She got less sleep than you, and though she won't tell you, she's been going since I woke her this morning. I'll stop back in before I go home."

"Good night, dear." Minerva stated, "And if Harold's still cognizant, tell him hello and again, my apologies for the timing."

Helena coughed, "I believe he's forgiven you," She leaned back over as she walked by, "As have I."

Minerva chuckled, "Very glad to hear."

"Good night." Helena said, the door closing on the two witches.

Minerva waited for a moment collecting her thoughts, but Hermione wasted no time.

"It won't affect me." She needed Minerva to believe that her encounter last night would not have a lasting effect upon her.

Minerva met Hermione's gaze, "Are you sure?"

"I never let it affect me before." Hermione stated.

"Nor did you see a doctor like you told me." Minerva retorted.

"I…" Hermione met Minerva's stalwart gaze. "Was fine. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Poppy checked me out and I was told I was clear."

"Long or intense bouts with the crucio curse can have debilitating effects if it is not treated. The stronger and more apt the castor, the greater the pain and damage. You know it is an unforgivable curse, the reason is because the pressure exerted cannot be withstood by the body. The muscles will snap, bones will shatter, ligaments burst…and the mind can only stand so much pain before it will disassociate. So, even though, you may have felt alright, doesn't mean that your muscles, ligaments or bones were healed."

"That's why Michaels re-evaluated me this morning. He stated about my back…the hair line fractures…"

"Most were from last night, except for the ones along the middle of your back." Minerva's voice barely reaching Hermione's ears. "Those were re-injured."

"That still has nothing to do with me being affected when I step into a battle or a duel, Minerva." Hermione could literally feel Minerva pulling away, and she felt her breathe catch…eyes tearing up.

Minerva slowly erected one wall and then another, knowing that they had reached the point in the conversation to do what she needed to do. She would not endanger Hermione. No matter what the other woman had committed to, "And…I can't take that chance."

Hermione felt her heart seize, "After everything I've done, learned, continue to learn…what happened to the notion that I could walk away if I didn't think I wanted to do this or could?"

"Your help has been immeasurable, but…"

"Don't." Hermione whispered, a tear falling off her cheek. "If you don't want me to help you because I'm not able or because I don't have the skill…" Her voice breaking, "I don't have the heart to hear." Teary eyes capturing emerald ones, "If it's because of what I said last night…and I have offended you…"

"It has nothing to do with last night and the Manor, dear." Minerva stated, standing and turning away from her. "Nor your skill…" Her eyes misting over as she stared out into the city of London, "Nor your abilities."

Hermione stared at Minerva's back, the long lines, the proud shoulders, wishing to be able to see her face. "Minerva, I was hurt, no different than you. Your wounds just heal faster." Her tone softening, the words barely reaching to Minerva. "And as for the crucio curse, that's just an excuse for you to push me away." She swallowed the lump in her throat, "Don't push me away. Don't let Johannes win. Let me help you." Another tear slipped down her cheek, "I won't let you down."

Minerva had quietly listened, a tear running down her cheek. Hermione had been right; she was no different…stoutly Gryffindor and even bordering on heedlessly brave like her own self; except, Hermione could die and though Minerva was dying, at this rate, it would not be because of a wizard's battle. _And did she have the right to stop Hermione from helping her, even if it might take the young witch's life? Could she afford for Hermione to stop helping her?_

The truth of the matter was staring back at herself through the window's reflection in her haunted eyes, _because whether it was wise for her to cut ties with this woman or not…it was no longer, truly, within her ability to do so. She needed help and for better or worse, Hermione…was the best person to help her._

"Minerva…talk to me." Hermione pleaded, wishing she could leave the bed.

Emerald eyes shifted upon hearing Hermione's voice, gazing at Hermione through the reflection. "You may not let me down, Hermione." She cleared her throat, erasing her Scottish cadence, "But I may you." She turned around facing the other woman. "As you may very well die before this is all over." Her voice becoming soft, "You have become a close friend and I fear that as this nightmare unfolds I will be burying what remains of not only my family but my friends, and it is a cost I am not entirely comfortable with."

Hermione hadn't expected Minerva's admission, the surprise evident upon her face. "I, uhh…and you may die too, Minerva." Hermione stated, changing tactics. "It is no different."

Minerva frowned, "It is _very _different. My family, friends…were pulled in because of Johannes' stilted belief. Whereas, I went into this knowing all the facts, knowing the possibilities, knowing the inevitable outcome and that I may need to die to stop him."

"So did I." Hermione quietly admitted, "I knew when I said yes in August that I might not live through this, but it was a choice. One I made willingly. And did again when Elgin awoke me last night and do so every time we leave Hogwarts."

As if on cue, the tiny house elf appeared. Eyes already looking to Minerva, "You'se is needed at Hogwarts, Mistress."

Minerva knew that Elgin rarely sought her out, "Is Hogwarts safe?"

"Hagrid founds Ryklar, Mistress. He's not good." Elgin's eyes lowered, "You'se must hurry. He's asks for you."

She reached out her hand, eyes lifting to Hermione. "Then I will leave the choice with you, Hermione." She felt Elgin's fingers wrap around hers. "As it is your life, but please do not feel obligated to help me. I fear the collateral damage to those who know me or who help me, will be far greater than I or anyone can foresee."

"It's not collateral damage, Minerva. It's revenge by one man, trying to tear down his foe by any means he can find."

_He's succeeding,_ Minerva quietly thought, but instead smiled to Hermione. "Get some rest, dear. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can you let me know about Ryklar?" Hermione asked as Minerva nodded to Elgin.

"I'll send word." Minerva's voice fluttering across the air, her body already gone.

xoxoxoxoxoxooxxooxoxxoxooxoxoxxoxoxo

Blood was running down his chin, body convulsing as Helena continued casting a series of spells upon his large body.

Minerva was beside his body in a heartbeat, leaning down. Hands light upon his neck and face. "I'm here." She stated as she ran her fingers across his blood soaked hair. "I'm here." She repeated.

His body seemed to relax, breathing momentarily leveling off. "…rva." Blood gushing from his mouth.

"Don't talk." Helena snapped, "I need to repair…"

"Trust…" Ryklar murmured trying to lift his hand. Minerva reached out, taking it within her own.

"I'm here."

"Need to…" His body convulsed again, hooves digging into the ground…one striking Hagrid's leg. "See…" He stated while breathing in.

"Helena's going to save you." Minerva whispered, tightening her grip upon her hand to offset his own grip upon her fingers. "Tell me then."

"Broken…" A tear falling from his eye, mixing with the blood upon his face, "_You_ need to know…"

"There's no way you would survive five minutes of the Hukbar…"

"Wizard…magic…" He gasped.

Minerva felt ice grip her veins. "I…" She stared into his dilating eyes, eyes filled with pain. To do what he asked…only very skilled healers with years of practice would enter a dying person's thoughts to see if they could discover what spell had been cast against them to try and save them. And for every minute spent there, took days of recovery; the body and mind so closely interwoven. "Do you know what you ask?"

"…ust…" His eyes rolling back into his head.

"Don't!" Helena yelled as Minerva's wand was already sweeping across the air, terror gripping her heart as she realized what Minerva was about to do. "He's dying."

The leglimens spell had already left her lips, striking Ryklar's body and the world melted away…

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Minerva blinked, expecting to feel Ryklar's agony and blinding pain, but the moon's rays covered a grassy knoll, the stars twinkling beyond the veil as bright as a cold January night.

"They are so beautiful." Came his deep voice. "I believe I shall miss them the most."

Minerva turned slowly to see his young face, whole and unmarred. "You will live."

"No." He smiled, eyes glancing to the stars, "My body is already passing." He pointed to a distant star that seemed to be falling, even now it was just above the horizon, "There."

"That is only a metaphor, Ryklar. You're strong, young…" Her warm gaze trying to infuse hope into the centaur.

"You were right, Minerva." His voice cutting off hers, "The wizard seeks our gildings, and your blood and that of your family's."

"I will protect the gildings." She moved to stand fully in front of him, "And my family."

"He already has three of the eight." Worry leeching across his face.

"Did you learn which ones?" Minerva fought off her own unease at the question.

"A griffin, dragon and sphinx." He stated, "Though where he obtained a sphinx youth…" Eyes dropping from the heavens and fixing upon the witch in front of him, "He is a formidable opponent, Minerva whose star is rising."

"He is gathering followers." Minerva remembering Douglass' face. "Amongst unlikely persons."

The night sky wavered, causing Ryklar to look upwards, "You do not believe in portents, but you must listen Minerva." His eyes dropping to hers, "Our skills differ but are no less poignant." He pointed to the southern sky, "Look."

Minerva lifted her gaze, feeling a sudden weight descend upon her chest, her breathing becoming difficult as her eyes followed his hand.

"Mars is coming to the forefront..." His voice becoming soft, "War is coming, and from the way the stars are beginning to coalesce around the mighty planet, it is gaining strength; much like the men who follow the wizard." He pointed to another star, barely sparkling in the night, rising up from the horizon, a light trailing to the horizon. "The wizard's star; the light has been growing these past months." The sparkles of twilight beginning to touch the sky, his voice fading. "And Venus…_you_…" He pointed to a large star that seemed barely to emit light, "Are fading." He turned to her, body becoming clear as the morning rays of light began streaming through him, "And you mustn't fade or his star will not falter for centuries."

"Ryklar…" She reached out…hand passing through his body. "I'm dying."

"Jupiter has fallen, not you." He stated…eyes drilling into hers, "Do not be afraid to live."

"I'm sorry, Ryklar…" She whispered as the last of his body became transparent; the sun's rays lighting the glade of wildflowers they were standing in.

"Thank you for believing in us, even when I didn't believe in you." He stated, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

A tingle passed over her…knees buckling…breaths becoming ragged, "May the glade be beautiful and the stars bountiful."

Ryklar smiled at the witch, a tear within his eyes. "Live for us both, my friend."

A man stepped beside Ryklar…twinkling blue eyes…auburn hair…hand guiding the centaur away. "We must leave, as must you Minerva."

Minerva fought for a breath, raising her arm…reaching outwards. "A..l…bus…"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoox

Helena shook her head, "No…" She stated, watching as Ryklar's pulse died away. Her eyes immediately snapping to Minerva. "Break it off, Minerva!" She yelled.

Hagrid watched wide-eyed as in one fell swoop, Helena had arced her magic from Ryklar to Minerva…

Helena began to cast the easiest series of spell to break a leglimens spell…but Minerva seemed unfazed. Her body's breaths fading away…a blue light beginning to swirl around her emerald robes…

"No!" Helena yelled, "Damn you Minerva!" She raised her wand, "Not like this!"

Hagrid felt like the world moved in slow motion as Helena raised her wand, yelling…a blue light swirled around Minerva…

"A..l…bus…" Came a strangled cry from Minerva's lips before her body collapsed, the blue light vanishing.

Helena modified her spell mid-cast; creating a diagnostic spell and as it swept over Minerva, she felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. Minerva was unconscious, but alive. "I swear, you're going to be the death of me one of these days if you don't kill yourself first." She muttered to herself as she neared her friend. "Hagrid," She lifted her head, "Let me heal your leg, and you can help carry our esteemed friend back to her rooms."

"Of cours' 'Elena." He stated, "Is she 'lright?"

"She'll be fine." Helena stated reassuringly to Hagrid, eyes drifting over to Ryklar as the half giant approached wondering what was so important that a centaur would willingly submit to human magic. "She just needs to get some sleep."

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_A/N: Just a quick clarifying note – regarding Minerva's animagus cycle that has been restarted, she just came off if during the previous weekend (October 23-25). At the beginning of chapter 25 you will see a variety of inferences that one can deduce she has just finished; Minerva getting her other pair of glasses from Elgin, how she hasn't been available nor around according to Hermione, and the overall lack of sleep on that Saturday night (she typically doesn't sleep much the between the 2 and 3 night because of the intense feelings). We will see her 'problem' again in 5 weeks from that point; which happens to be the last week of November and the next time will be the first weekend in January. _

_Hope you enjoyed the second half of the day. See you next Friday & as luck would have it; the chapter also takes place on Friday, October 30__th__, 2009. _


	29. Chapter 27 October 30th, 2009

**Chapter 27 ~ October 30****th**** 2009 (Friday)**

Hermione stepped into the staff lounge, to a room eight times its normal size with trays of food laden upon a long table to left of the door and to the right several bowls of punch including a few bottles of liquor to the side.

"Hermione." Filius squeaked already handing her a drink, "I take it your cubs are nestled in Gryffindor's Tower."

"As secured as your fledglings are within Ravenclaw's." She replied taking the drink from his hand.

"And how have the last two days been?" Marx asked gliding over. "A bit of catch up, essays to mark?"

"It was like I never left, the classes designated in my plans and assignments were given, collect and marked." Hermione had been surprised to find even her essays she had been behind on marked too, "I don't know how Minerva finds the time or energy to do what she does."

As one the three heads of house turned to the Headmistress who was in a deep conversation with Rolanda, her wife – Myriam, Poppy, Clemons and his wife, Clystra. Marx's deep voice mirroring their thoughts, "Perhaps she drinks pepper up potions morning, noon and night."

"And probably has a double with her afternoon tea." Pomona stated, joining in. "Good evening, Marx, Hermione…" Her eyes dropping to her husband, "Dear." And with a shared smile continued on, "How have you been, Hermione? You looked a bit tired this morning."

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, "I had a few correspondences to catch up on when I returned and have been up late the past two nights. But as I was relaying, I had been very lucky as I did not have to spend much time regarding my classes as Minerva had them well in hand." The few correspondences numbered well into the two hundred range. "Otherwise, I'm quite fine. Thank you for asking."

Pomona smiled at the younger witch, her eyes seemed a bit duller since she returned from St. Mungos. Probably a combination of her fatigue, what occurred and the constant articles about her and Ron in the Prophet despite what else was going on in the wizarding world. "Glad to hear."

Marx turned to Pomona, "And I see that Mr. Smith has tumbled your house below two hundred points again, today."

Hermione listened as their conversation turned to Xavier Smith's recent panache for trouble…in every class; although he had refrained from doing so within hers. She stated that in Transfiguration, he had been engaging and had even earned five points this morning…eyes drifting over to Minerva's emerald robes. She had not seen Minerva since Tuesday evening except at the Head Table for meals. She had been pleasant, but…reserved and her mind obviously elsewhere.

Hermione wondered what preciously it pertained to, herself and the incident the first part of the week at the Manor, Aberforth's death, Ryklar's death, Aberforth's funeral…any and all the above could be possibilities, but…as Minerva's rich laugh rippled through the room causing several heads to turn towards the melodious noise, Hermione couldn't help but wonder what one precisely had caused Minerva to give pause.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Minerva's green eyes narrowed, her body darting past the young Slytherins and stopping in the shadows just ahead, to morph back into her human form. "I believe, Mr. Evert, Mr. Rae and Mr. Tyrus that your common room lies back the way you came."

All three fourth years jumped backwards, obviously startled by the Headmistress' sudden appearance. "We…uhh…" Tom Tyrus tried speak, but his heart was hammering too loudly in his ears.

"Will be returning immediately," She dropped her head just enough to allow her eyes to peer over the edge of her frames, "Won't you."

Darius Evert grabbed his friends' arms starting to pull them backwards, "Right away, Professor."

"You have two minutes." She said watching as they continued walking backwards, "Which I believe is just enough time to arrive back to where you should never have left."

Evert nodded, turning and forcing his friends to turn, the three began a full dead run back towards the Slytherins Common room. She could hear a faint question by one of the three; she believed it was Tom state that she wouldn't be the wiser if they didn't go back to their Common room. At once, Minerva morphed into her animagus state, momentarily stretching her back legs…enjoying the stretch upon her hip and after a few seconds…a small tabby cat sprinted down the hallway taking a left and a right, veering down the corridor to see if they were indeed heading towards their Common Room. She could detect three forms still clambering down the hall, and she turned and sprinted up the backset of stairs, body darting down the hall and down the steps along the other side…the steps swinging around connecting to the dungeon steps. She drew to a stop in front of the bare stone walled portal; morphing back into her human form slightly winded. It had been some time since she had ran full tilt. It had felt good, but…she would feel it tomorrow in her hip. Casting a quick charm, her robes and hair looked as though they did moments before…her appearance seemingly unchanged.

She watched as the three young men rounded the corner…jaws gaping that the Headmistress had arrived back to their common room before they had. "Good night, gentlemen." She said, the portal opening as she stepped around them. "And I trust…" She paused, turning back around, "That I won't find you out and about again."

All three boys shook their head no, still speechless as Professor McGonagall's clipping boots and walking stick echoed off the walls as she disappeared around the corner.

"How'd she bloody beat us here?" Darius asked stepping into the green and silver room.

"Maybe she really is as powerful as Dumbledore." Tyrus murmured.

"Nah." Neal stated, following his two friends in and closing the door behind them. "She's more powerful. Whether politically or magically as even the Malfoy's won't cross her."

oxooxoxoxoxoxxoooxoxoxox

Minerva stepped back into the lounge, the party in full swing as bouts of laughter swept over her. Her eyes darting to the clock, she had been gone just under an hour. Though the teacher's sweep took a bit longer than when she and Albus used to do it; it was a nice way to enable her to get away for a short bit. She had also noted that she'd be able to bid everyone good evening shortly, it was just before 8:30 and she would begin making her way out shortly after nine. Picking up a glass of chilled tea, she made her way over to Marx.

Her eyes momentarily catching Filius' worried ones…and she gave him a small reassuring nod. He had been concerned this evening, stating that she had been pushing too hard for too long and with not enough sleep. And…she had not been able to argue, because he was right. She did, however, assure him that she had no plans for the weekend, save for the quidditch game tomorrow afternoon and promised not to leave the castle unless of dire importance. She even consented to have Filius make the report in the morning to the Order and she would rest; he eventually consented to relax this evening and enjoy.

"A word, Marx." She stated drawing up next to the tall albino man.

Blue-red eyes turned to her, a smile curling across his ghostly rose lips. "Of course, Minerva."

Minerva quietly leaned in, informing him that three of his students were out after curfew…

xoxoxoxoxoooxxoxoxoxoxooxx

"Luscious." Myriam purred, taking another sip.

Rolanda smiled leaning over and kissing her fully upon her lips. "Glad to hear." Rolanda pulled away, following her wife's gaze to the door. Both witches watching as Minerva quietly glided back into the lounge. "She's finished her rounds."

Myriam eyed Minerva as she picked up a glass of tea on her way through the room, "Even with Clemons it still takes the two of you an hour. What about you, Hermione?"

"Marx and I take an hour." Hermione said joining their gaze.

"You know…" Myriam's voice low, eyes continuing to watch Minerva as she weaved around the room finally stopping by Marx, "Even for a witch in her eighties, dear, she is still absolutely breathtaking."

Hermione felt the temperature in the room jump twenty degrees at Myriam's comment…and was completely unprepared for Rolanda's subsequent one.

"She is perhaps the one woman who would give me pause to leave you," Rolanda rumbled, "For a night."

Myriam reached over, running a hand down her lover's face. "There would be no pause, dear. If it was me." She leaned in, both women momentarily forgetting about Hermione as Myriam continued on. "She's utterly fascinating. Reserved…and yet…I imagine her eyes would smolder a brilliant green when flared with passion."

Rolanda chuckled, "Sorry Hermione." She said turning away from Minerva. "Old habit."

Hermione averted her eyes from Minerva to the yellow eyed woman, "I…just never heard…" Sure she may have thought it once or twice that Minerva was lovely, had aged well…still appearing middle aged…but to hear another woman, who was perhaps in her forties or fifties _want_ Minerva…she swallowed. "Anyone refer to her…in such a manner."

A smile curled Myriam's round face. "She is a beautiful and probably a very sensual woman, Hermione." She took a deep draught of her drink, "And so much more than what I am sure most people see anymore, the venerable and regal Headmistress and I have told that to Minerva. Whoever her partner is, is lucky indeed."

Rolanda wrapped her arm around Myriam's waist. "Almost as lucky as I." She said, "Sorry if we made you uncomfortable dear." She stated. "It is of no disrespect. We often find ourselves wondering who the lucky person is who has captured our Headmistress' heart; as in the evenings…" Rolanda nodded to Minerva, "If there are no students about, she wears a silver colored wedding band upon her finger. However, she spends little time away from the castle these days and over the years a hollowness seems to have taken residence within her smile and even her eyes at times."

"I don't know darling…" Myriam leaned into Rolanda's embrace, "This evening, they seemed to shine…"

"True…" Rolanda stated, eyes lifting to Hermione, "Do you know, by chance, who are esteemed Headmistress is married too?"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxooxxoxooxooxxxoxoxoxoo

Minerva stared into the heaven's unblinking, eyes searching for the stars Ryklar had shown her days before. The star that supposedly showed Johannes' rise in power; Mars…and the oncoming war…and Venus. She had asked Sinistra for a layout of where Mars and Venus were tonight, and Sinistra, while surprised had quickly agreed. Even offering to show her, which Minerva smiled and stated was unnecessary.

Minerva knew that it wasn't Sinistra's fault that she had shown little interest in the field of astrology; and the ounce of patience she did have with the subject had all but left her after Albus' death. She always listened, but…usually asked Filius to handle the subject…and all aspects involving it, including the Tower.

Her partially numb fingers tightened along the stone wall, she had not been up here since Albus' death except for her and Filius' annual inspection at the beginning of each term. Even now…with her need to see the stars for herself…to try and understand Ryklar's message, it had been hard to climb the stairs.

Closing her eyes…for a moment, she inhaled a deep, crisp breathe of air… _It was so quiet here, _she thought used to the constant hum of life that permeated the halls of Hogwarts.

Focused, she reopened her eyes…looking. Her eyes swept across the velvet black sky and the thousand twinkling stars…for an hour more, to no avail.

"I'm sorry, Ryklar. I don't see as you did." She stated as she continued gazing at the sky, "Nor do I understand Jupiter's reference; unless you mean Albus. But…" A tear choked voice continued on, "He's still here. I feel him…" She reached out a hair's breath farther, "Just there…" She whispered, "Always…just out of reach." Wishing for the thousandth time he was actually there, wishing to fall into his embrace…to take solace in his arms…even if only for one night.

"Good night, dear friend." She whispered to the heavens before drawing her cloak back to her and descending the steps to her rooms; taking the long winding corridors, not quite ready to return to an empty room, and bed tonight that would be filled with perhaps three hours of sleep punctuated by terrifying dreams and blood curdling nightmares.

xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

Hermione took the south steps to her rooms, wanting to stretch her legs before settling in for the evening and was surprised to find the set of steps she was on, instantly shift…with her on it. She leaned forward grasping the lip of one of the steps, maintaining her balance as it swept through the air. _I'll have to tell Minerva immediately, if one of the students had been on the steps…_

The staircase came to a gliding stop, and Hermione stood in time to see Minerva step around the corridor and onto the staircase.

Startled, Minerva drew to a stop, a frown crossing her face. "Hermione." Her eyes quickly taking in the area of the Castle she was currently in, "A bit far from the Tower."

Hermione had noticed that Minerva had seemed in a world of her own, but…to see her so…disoriented was unnerving. "And you, Minerva, are still several floors from your office and suite." She stated, noticing the light rose hue across her cheeks, the rest of her face ghastly white. "Are you alright?" She asked, stepping closer noticing the tips of her fingers were practically blue. "How long were you outside?"

At the questions, Minerva's mind pulled back from her internal musings, truly focusing on her surroundings. Apparently, the change had been obvious, because Hermione stepped back a step. "Fine and for a while, I was mulling over a few things."

Minerva quickly recalled that this evening had been the staffs' party…and she must just be leaving… "And did you enjoy your evening?"

"Yes," She replied at once, "Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked, concerned from the almost indifferent voice…

"Quite." Minerva feigned a smile, "I was just heading back to my rooms for a bit of tea and some light reading; good night." Minerva stated already beginning to descend the stairs again and Hermione watched, motionless as Minerva's gait continued…uninterrupted as she headed towards her suite. It mattered not whether a step was ahead, her pace remained constant…and Hermione felt like crying out as Minerva continued onwards that there was no step, her lungs filled with air…about to bellow out…only to have a set of stairs appear out of nowhere…beneath Minerva's foot. Hermione watched with morbid fascination as this persisted…until she steered off the third floor, apparently taking an alternate route versus the main one.

"What in blazes is going on?" Hermione muttered still shocked at witnessing what she had. She had never known the stairs to shift with people on them, nor for someone to walk between floors with such, utter and complete faith that the stairs would be there when stepping. Not counting Minerva's odd behavior. Shaking her head, she tiredly began ascending the steps and inwardly cursed. She was on the north side of the castle now, and would have to take three passages to the eastern stairs…

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione gazed at Godric. "Good evening."

"Hermione." He stated, "Did you have an enjoyable evening?"

"Rather, though…" She paused upon entering, "Would you mind accompanying me to my study?"

"Of course." He stated and at once left his frame for the one above the mantle in the fireplace that usually housed a plain seascape along the isles of Locklee.

"I happened upon a rather peculiar event this evening, and…" She paused unsure if she should continue or leave well enough alone. Godric's waiting picture was all the incentive she needed. "I've never heard anything about it." She leaned back, hand resting upon the side of one of the chairs. "What do you know of a Head of Hogwarts being able to call the stairwells to them?"

Godric nodded, "A wonderful idea created by Rowena and in times of crises, most assistive. Only the Deputy or Head of Hogwarts has the ability."

"What about…subconsciously?"

At this Godric frowned, "It has to be of conscious thought, Hermione. The relationship between the Head and Hogwarts is tangible..."

Hermione sighed, "Thank you Godric."

"Hermione." He stated and stepped from the frame.

Hermione walked over, lighting the fire as she went. She had a few essays to mark and she was going to wait until after breakfast; but she was too awake. Sitting down at her desk, she noticed a small paper folded along the edge..

Picking it up, she immediately recognized Elgin's scrawl. She always marveled that despite his mispronunciation of the English language, his written skills were impeccable.

_Sorry, here are Mistress' times from this week. _

_Monday – 3_

_Tuesday – 4.5_

_Wednesday –1.5_

_Thursday - 2 _

_She's still not sleeping. Times where she slept over 2 hours was due to her injuries and being healed by Hogwarts._

_Elgin_

Hermione pulled out the totals from last week, her frown growing. Twelve and a half hours over six days…and eleven the last four. 23 hours of sleep in ten days. Hermione sat there dumbfounded.

23 hours in ten days.

A person couldn't function like that.

Hermione felt herself blink as her brain connected that the person was Minerva…and she had been concerned the first of the week at the information. She had been worried that Minerva's recent sleep pattern could very easily become de-habilitating. Now…worry had been replaced with downright fear and distress for Minerva's health.

At once, she stood…and went to her rooms, with a wave of her wand, a small bottle of dreamless potion along with the antidote landed in her left one…and then her robes were flourishing behind her as she swept from her rooms.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Minerva reached for her cup, and withdrew her hand…the tremble in her fingers preventing her from picking it up. And she could do nothing, but lean her head back…eyes closing as she took several deep breaths. They would go away shortly, it would just take…time. It had started Wednesday evening after dinner, and she knew it had been caused by sheer exhaustion. Not that she had been able to sleep since then for more than a couple of hours, she would sleep long enough to realize how utterly exhausted she truly was.

Several minutes passed, and Minerva felt the shakes subside. She turned the page of the Transfiguration Journal, reaching for her tea when she felt the magic of the Gargoyle activate.

"Impeccable timing." She muttered, grabbing her robe and pulling it on as she slipped her feet into a pair of slippers and stepped from her rooms and into her living room as Hermione walked in.

"Hermione..." Minerva's brow furloughing at younger witch, "Is everything alright?"

"You still aren't sleeping." She stated drawing to a stop across from the other woman, noticing that she had changed from her traditional robes into her night attire, a sweeping long embroidered ivory robe covering what appeared to be a dark colored nightgown that stopped far higher upon her legs. "Are you?"

Minerva met her questioning gaze, "What business is it…"

Hermione took another step closer, "Are you?" She asked, voice barely a whisper staring into Minerva's eyes, waiting for an answer. Minerva didn't move…sparking Hermione to continue on. "23 hours in ten days…Minerva…" Her voice raw, "How are you still walking…functioning…"

Minerva knew that information could only come from three sources, and one was bound to her; the second, Tily – her primary house elf until as of late, only knew Hermione in passing… "Elgin." She stated lowering her eyes.

"He's worried, just like Filius and I." She said as the elder elf appeared into the room.

Large opalescent yellow eyes blinking up at Minerva. "Mistress."

"Can you explain why Hermione knows of my sleep or lack thereof?" She asked, causing him to shift from one foot to the next.

Elgin didn't shift his gaze, but his discomfort at the direct question was palatable as he stared back at her, not answering.

"Elgin…"

"Because I asked him." Hermione unable to bear witness to Elgin's continued unease.

Elgin turned to Hermione, shaking his head, "You'se may have asked Professor's…but that's not whys I'se did whats I'se did." And slowly he turned back to Minerva. "You'se not sleep since the night befores the forest, Mistress. Professor's Granger, and Deputy Filius is most worried as is me's and the other elves. And I'se instructed befores the Masters death…I'se to keep you'se safe…" His small Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, "She's only know of the lasts ten days, Mistress." He hung his head, "But you'se haven't been sleeping for longs befores that. 23 hours is most compared to other times." Elgin reached out his knobby hands, taking one of hers within his. "I's not meaning disrespects Mistress…buts you'se needs helps. Professor…" He turned to Hermione, "She's trying to helps you'se Mistress." His voice became quiet, heartfelt, as yellow eyes filled with emotion gazed into her emerald ones. "Please…lets her. You'se so tired…" A large milky tear dribbled down his cheek, "You'se been shaking…Mistress."

Minerva kneeled, keeping his hand wrapped around hers, as she sunk to eye level. "I'll listen to her, my keen friend." She gently reached up with her other hand and brushed the damp trail away, "Now get some rest and I'll see you in the morning."

He bowed his head deeply, "Yes, Mistress."And with a quiet pop, he vanished.

Minerva remained motionless for a moment, the silence in the room deafening. "I don't suppose you are going to forget my conversation with Elgin." She said, standing but failing to turn and face Hermione, instead walking towards the banister overlooking her office.

Hermione had known Minerva hadn't been sleeping, but to hear Elgin's words…she had not been able to keep the tears from her own eyes. "No." She swallowed, hard. "Why didn't you tell Helena or me the extent to which you haven't been sleeping?"

Minerva's fingers gripped the rail tighter, "It's a side effect…" Her voice catching, causing her to clear her throat, "Of the Hukbar."

"It didn't last this long last time, did it?" Hermione gently took a step forward as Minerva shook her head.

"No." Came the soft reply. "But…a lot has changed too." She relaxed her hands as her eyes landed upon Albus' portrait. Remembering when they had gone through the Hukbar, how the nightmares had plagued them both; their only solace in the other's embrace. Each taking a turn sleeping…while the other remained awake until they were able to begin slowly falling asleep, together.

"Why not take a dreamless draught?" Hermione watched Minerva's back expand, her muscles tensing at the notion.

"Because memories become the dreams." She said turning to face Hermione. "And while sleeping…" She felt her jaw flex at discussing something so personal. "There would be no one to awaken me, and it would be as if re-living the Hukbar again."

"I'll stay tonight, Minerva." She pulled the small vial from her robes, "I don't have class in the morning and can go to sleep after you have awakened and still make the quidditch game."

Minerva felt her heart rate double, head already shaking. "I…" She swallowed, "I'll be fine, Hermione. I'm sure it will be just a short while longer."

"Tuesday evening you spouted to me about seeing a healer after my first bout with the crucio curse; and then this bout…and how I might react, be a chink in the armor…when _you _haven't slept in almost a month. Your hands are trembling, when will it end, Minerva? How much longer can you go without sleep?"

"You think I don't _want_ to sleep, Hermione?" Minerva's voice was raw with emotion.

"Then let me help you." She retorted, "Let yourself _be_ helped, Minerva." She took a deep breath and took another step closer, hand clasping around Minerva's right arm. "You're exhausted."

Minerva dropped her head away from Hermione, "I've tried everything…" She finally admitted pulling away, "Except the dreamless draught."

Hermione stopped her movement, arm upon her shoulder. "Then take it tonight." She stepped around to face her, "Get one night's sleep, I'll wake you with the antidote if you begin to appear as though you are slipping into the Hukbar."

"Hermione…I will be fine." She whispered, no longer able to meet Hermione's gaze. "But thank you."

"Pride." Hermione's voice unyielding, "Let it go." She reached upward, drawing Minerva's gaze to hers. "Just for one night."

It had been years since Minerva had willingly leaned upon another person, not through necessity of injury but by choice. And though she was not at a point of necessity, she was rapidly approaching it…her exhaustion had reached the stage of being palpable and was only a matter of time. "Do you have the antidote?" Minerva softly asked.

Hermione reached into her robes, pulling it out. "Here." She showed a green vial to Minerva.

"There is no reason for you not to sleep, Hermione." She stated walking towards a carved chestnut door not quite pulled close. "Go to your rooms and I'll have Elgin bring you back here when you are ready to sleep."

"Minerva…" She took a following step, Minerva pausing in the doorway. "I…the dreamless draught..."

"I will take it, Hermione." She stated, tone bordering on defeated, but her eyes held no reserve, mask or concealing charm; Hermione realized as she stared into the gaunt and tired face of Minerva McGonagall. The skin beneath her eyes looked to be bruised, the circles were so dark in comparison to her milky complexion; her cheeks drawn from apparent weight loss…

"I don't understand," She said, trying to hand the vial to Minerva. "Why are you sending me away if you are going to take the draught?"

"I will be up for some time, as I'm sure you had intended to be too. Change, get comfortable and have Elgin bring you to my suite when you are ready for bed." She cracked open her door, pointing into her private room and the bed just beyond. "I'll take the draught and we can both sleep. I shall ask Albus to watch me and awaken you if I begin to stir. Does this sound acceptable?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, but will Albus know if you are…having a nightmare? And how will he be able to hear you?" Her eyes darted to the office area.

"Yes he will, and a small portrait of him resides in my bedroom here." Minerva stated, "I shall see you…shortly." She said giving her a curt nod and stepping into her rooms.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Hermione glanced down at her sapphire colored pajamas feeling mildly awkward as she slipped on her robe and shoes. The two vials still firmly tucked within her right hand as she slipped her wand into the pocket of her robe too. She glanced around her room before taking a breath to call Elgin, but he suddenly appeared beside her without having to say a word.

"You'se is ready?" He stuck out his hand.

"Is she?" Hermione asked, hoping she had not stayed away too long that Minerva had already dozed off, or that she had arrived too early and was not ready for bed.

Elgin merely smiled, "I'se taking you'se straight to hers rooms."

Hermione gently laid her hand within his, "Alright." And before she could think to say about the lights in her room, and extinguishing them…they had already gone out, and she was standing along the right side of an enormous four poster bed with a plum down cover atop, Minerva was nestled along the left side of the bed…book within her hands, glasses atop of her nose…bare shoulders save for the thin purple straps along either collarbone…black hair with strands of grey spilled across two linen white pillows. An end table to her left, a light sitting there…_an electrical light?_ Her wand rested beside it, along with a tumbler with what appeared to contain a light amber liquid.

A matching light and end table that was lit was to the right of the bed. The overall room, was very spacious. An embankment of windows was splayed along the far wall, two wardrobes covered half the wall opposite of the bed, an L shaped dresser was nestled in the corner with a mirror atop of it closest to her, and another dresser rested in the opposite corner, Albus' portrait above it…the corner to the left of Minerva held a doorway…and the corner closest to Hermione was another doorway.

Minerva gently closed her book as Hermione glanced about her room. "Good evening." She rumbled, voice betraying her fatigue.

Hermione's eyes snapped back to Minerva. "Are those electrical lights?" She asked pointing.

"They are easier on the eyes," She reached over putting her book on the nightstand. "The doors at the head of the room go into the bathroom," She said turning back around, "And there are hooks on the inside of the door for your robe."

Hermione watched Minerva stretch, and as she turned back around, she averted her eyes and pulled her wand from her robe and placed it on the nightstand along with the green vial. "Here." She leaned across the bed, Minerva sitting up…hair tumbling down her back…as the covers fell from her chest…and Minerva took the blue one within her hand. "Where ever did you get a bed this large?" Hermione asked as she stepped into the restroom, a gentle light spilling upon the tiles. Hermione resisted the urge to look around, merely hanging up her robe.

"One of Albus' eccentricities." Minerva replied as she wandlessly summoned the cork into her hand. "It's half again as large as a king sized bed."

Hermione slipped off her shoes and reached for the top cover peeling it back and noticed that Minerva was still eyeing the vial. "I promise to awaken you, Minerva."

Minerva paused for another few seconds, as Hermione slid into the bed, she _wanted_ to believe Hermione…but knowing that if she did not get awakened…she would have to hear her daughter's pleas… Swallowing her doubt, she upended the bottle and then banished it with a wave of her hand, peeling her glasses off and reaching over…putting them by her wand as her fingers gently grazed the metal around the glass of the light, bathing the left side of the room in darkness.

"How do I turn the light off?" Hermione asked, looking for a switch.

"Magic." Minerva quipped, already feeling the potions effects spidering through her system.

"And when Nox doesn't work?" Hermione rebuked back.

Minerva turned onto her side, "Just touch the…metal." She murmured. "It's touch activated."

Hermione reached over, touching the brass fixture, and the room fell into darkness except for the light coming in from the moon. "I never would have thought you would know so much about muggle technology."

"Integrated…" Minerva's mind was shutting down as her body began to succumb to sleep, "…….ing….one."

Hermione turned towards Minerva, "I didn't hear what you…" But she stopped at seeing her steady breathing, knowing that she was already asleep.

"You can go to sleep too, Hermione." Albus' voice gracing her ears. "I'll wake you if need be."

"Won't you get tired?" She asked yawning.

"Not anymore." He replied.

Hermione felt herself nod, "Thank you for watching…" She yawned again, "Minerva." She muttered, the long day, short nights and beyond comfortable bed quickly catching up with her as she felt her muscles melt into the mattress.

"I am the one who should be thanking you." Albus stated as Hermione's breathing leveled off too, matching the quiet rhythm of his wife's. "Good night." He whispered softly into the still air.

Xoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: Well…Minerva and Hermione ended up in bed together, and now I just can't bring myself to write anymore…_

_Just kidding, well kind of. Unfortunately, I will be unable to continue updating this story every week through the holidays as real life has become borderline maniac with only more chaos to ensue until after Xmas; I will endeavor to make sure it still gets updated every two weeks but I can't promise it._

_Next…we will see the 'morning after', October 31__st__ as soon as I have some time. Happy Halloween :)_


	30. Chapter 28 October 31st, 2009

**Chapter 28 ~ October 31****st**** 2009 (Saturday)**

Hermione jumped awake at the bellowing noise, heart hammering in her chest as coffee eyes narrowed in the darkness, her brain taking a solitary moment to adjust and remember. A painful whimper to her left was followed by Albus' distinct voice, "The antidote Hermione."

Hermione wasted no additional time, hand reaching over to the table…glass clanking as her hand found the lamp and slid to the edge to touch the metal, immediately bathing the room in light as she pulled the antidote into her fingers, the cork falling to the floor as she turned to Minerva. She was laying on her back, facing towards her, lips contorted in pain, left hand splayed upon her side…holding…as another whimper slipped from her lips.

Hermione's right hand slipped beneath Minerva's head slowly tipping it upwards, leg propping her upper back up as her hair tumbled against her arm as she slowly upended the vial against her lips…some of the silvery liquid running down her lips…trailing across her cheek as the rest went into her mouth…

The vial empty, Hermione waited…Minerva's upper body leaning against Hermione's leg, hand still holding her head up…

Five seconds…Minerva tipping her head back farther, pushing Hermione's hand down as her body seemed to contract…losing contact with Hermione's…

Ten seconds…Minerva's mouth opening…a soft cough rippling through her system…and then a deep gasp was drawn in, followed by a rattling cough that racked through her lungs…shaking her entire body.

Emerald eyes blinking open, tears in her eyes as she took another breath…

Hermione gently ran her hand down Minerva's exposed arm. "You're in your rooms Minerva." She stated, "Just breathe."

Again Minerva coughed, her entire bone structure seemingly moving as Hermione continued to gently stroke Minerva's arm.

"That's it…breathe." Hermione quietly stated, feeling utterly helpless as Minerva took another breath, eyes closing upon unshed tears…

"I…" Minerva could still taste the smoke. "Will be fine." She murmured, side aching from the fire on Tuesday.

Hermione pulled her fingers away, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you sooner." She stated, eyes staring at Minerva's momentarily placid face. Her own heart still hammering in her chest wishing she could spare Minerva any more pain…as the elder witch turned away from Hermione, facing the windows…her body curling into a ball.

"You woke me soon enough." Minerva whispered as she tried to continue taking calming breaths, side throbbing...hand reaching around to put just a bit more pressure… "How long…was I asleep?"

Albus' softly replied, "Just over four hours, my dear."

Hermione watched as Minerva adjusted her hand…pushing against her side. She couldn't remember when she had been struck in the side or anywhere near that area during the Hukbar or the memories. "Are you alright?" Hermione quietly asked.

Minerva was still too tired…too distracted…the question tentative…as if Albus had spoken it…and she answered it, honestly. "My side burns, but…" Her breath was shuddering, "It eases."

Hermione had thought that she had perhaps pulled a muscle, but…when would Minerva's side been burnt? Tuesday. "The memories you had were from Tuesday?"

Minerva opened her eyes at the soft voice, which was not Albus', but held a rich, almost earthy cadence…not the whimsical one that too often floated from Albus'. She had momentarily forgotten about Hermione…and her muscles stiffened at what she had mistakenly uttered. "Yes." She ignored her protesting side as she reached over and flung the covers from her body.

Hermione's eyes involuntarily jolted to the movement, watching as the long lines of Minerva's back tightened as she stood…the long plum silk nightgown falling from her erect posture…black tresses tumbling down to hide her back from view… "What happened to your side?"

Minerva paused, turning as her eyes narrowed enabling her to see the woman no more than five feet away. "A minor mishap that was caused in my haste to help Aberforth."

Minerva turned, Hermione noticed that the elder woman's nightgown was held up by two thin straps resting on either side of the collarbone; the neckline made a V down her chest, but it remained modest as the rest of the gown fell loosely from her body…another indication that Minerva had indeed lost weight. However, as she met Minerva's eyes…it was even more apparent how tired Minerva still was; and how much sleep she hadn't been getting. "If your side burns, I doubt it was minor Minerva."

"Yes, well…" She pursed her lips, not in the least interested in getting in a verbal debate upon waking. "It is over." She stated, non-confrontationally before striding into her bathroom…the light immediately coming on as her feet grazed the marble, the door closing behind her.

"Over." Hermione muttered into the now silent air, "What the hell happened in the first place?" She cast a glance to the door, and then to the portrait of the man across the room…only to see the frame empty. Hermione leaned back, marveling in the sheer size of the bed…thinking how when Rose and Hugo had been small, it wouldn't have been near as uncomfortable when they climbed in bed with she and Ron…in addition, it was luxuriously soft. _Wonder how much this costs…? _she thought. _Granted she was definitely not at a point in her life where she would probably wish to be that decadent, but_…she cast a look across the bed, _it was moderately tempting._

She heard the faint trickle of water in the bathroom, and Hermione recalled Elgin's statement that once up, Minerva remained so. Frowning at the notion that Minerva was already taking a shower to start her day, Hermione cast a glance around the room, and noticed a clock perched along the wall, made of stain glass and appeared to be the shape of a Phoenix. It was just after four.

_Today is going to be a long day_. Hermione thought, as she mentally ticked off the items to do; quidditch game, Order meeting, talk with Ron, pick up the kids after the quidditch game, and she sighed at the thought of going and spending the evening in London with her children and George.

And then there was Minerva…

She had hoped to talk her into taking a second draught this morning if she had been forced to awaken her…but as the faint sound of water could be heard, she very much doubted that Minerva would consent; despite the obvious need for additional sleep. Hermione knew that dreamless draughts were not the answer, but until Minerva was getting sleep regularly…something had to be done. Minerva couldn't continue on as she had. Last night, Hermione had been both surprised and saddened upon seeing Minerva without her Glamour charm firmly in place, the circles under her eyes…were and predominately remained in place, a ringing testament at how well Minerva hid her true self from the world.

_But…how to make her sleep? Willingly?_

She yawned, as she thought that perhaps Sunday evening Minerva would consent to another dreamless draught…

Minerva hadn't meant to stay in the shower as long as she did, but…she needed the solitude. It had been a long time since another person had been within her rooms upon waking, and despite being an early riser; she thoroughly enjoyed the quiet time to herself.

With a wave, her hair snapped dry and another one and it fell to her back in a thick braid as she pulled her robe from the back of door. Her eyes casting along the space of the bathroom, the other half still mildly darkened…but she could see Hermione's robe resting upon the other door's hook.

Without further thought, Minerva slipped her robe on and tied it, before opening the door and stepping out; expecting to see Hermione waiting to talk with her about what had happened on Tuesday and instead found the younger woman's eyes closed, sleeping. Minerva remained riveted for a few moments; eyes grazing over the younger woman's face…her soft lines, gentle features…

"Elgin…" She quietly uttered.

A tired house elf appeared, "Mistress." He stated, eyes blinking focused.

"Please take Hermione back to her rooms." She stated, and at his worried expression she continued on. "She'll be more comfortable there and I was going to do a bit of light reading. And no…" She smiled at the elder elf, "She did nothing wrong."

He nodded, "At once."

"And Elgin…"

He paused mid-snap, turning. "Mistress?"

"Have Tily bring the report this morning, it does not do for us both to be tired."

Elgin's mouth quirked into a kind smile, "Of course Mistress." And with a snap, both he and Hermione were gone.

Minerva pulled her glasses on as Tily suddenly appeared, "Anythings you'se be needing, Minerva?"

"A cup of tea would be lovely, Tily." She said pulling her book off the nightstand as she set upon the bed. She wandlessly summoned a light blanket to drape over her feet as Tily spoke.

"Of course. Chamomile be's alright?"

Minerva flipped the blanket over her bare shins and feet, "Yes, thank you."

At once, Tily was gone as quietly as she had arrived. Minerva already opening her book to where she had been last night, but paused…as she took a breath…a light scent of almond still clung to the air.

Shaking her thoughts, Minerva nestled a little farther down into the pillows…the almond scent tickling her noise…as she began to read…

Tily came and left a cup of steaming tea, which she drank a few sips while reading…before her eyes became heavy…

Tily arrived thirty-two minutes later, five o'clock, with the morning report in her fingers to find Minerva curled around a pillow, a gentle, but soft snore slipping off her lips…glasses still perched on the end of her nose, book lying against her leg…hair falling from her braid.

A tiny smile fluttered across Tily's face. It had been some time since Mistress Minerva had fallen back asleep in the morning. She would make sure that unless it was the Deputy, no one would disturb her until she woke again.

With a snap, Minerva's thin gold-framed glasses and book appeared in Tily's hand, which she gently set on the table, along with the morning's report under her glasses. She snapped her fingers again; another thick blanket appeared above the Mistress…which she gently lowered upon her.

The Mistress stirred slightly…pulling the pillow closer to her…face easing…and Tily snapped her fingers and was gone. She had a few items to take care of…including closing the Headmistress' floo for the morning.

****

Elgin stared at Tily, unbelievingly. "You'se sure?"

Tily nodded her dainty head, "Yes, Elgin. She's just woke back up an hour ago."

His mouth felt slack as he stared back at his long time friend, they had worked side by side at Hogwarts for years. She serving the Mistress, he the Master. Now they both served the Mistress; and since mid-summer he had been working overtime to serve the Mistress' personal needs while Tily took care of the linens, cleaning, and the daily concerns and issues with the Hogwarts elves. "That's the first time she's slept for that long…in…"

"Thirty days." Tily finished without pause.

His eyes blinked as they lifted to look at the clock. It was just after nine in the morning. "She's even slepts through breakfast."

Tily nodded, both understanding the absolute rarity that Minerva missed breakfast because she had overslept. The time could be counted on one hand. "I know. I took hers breakfast, and she just finished." Tily stepped forward, "Elgin…" He dropped his still baffled gaze to her as she continued, "She's still not wells."

"I know." He whispered.

Hermione hadn't meant for her conversation with Ron to run this late, and for once…she wished she had the ability to apparate through Hogwarts or change into an animagus and run faster as the thunderous applause echoed off the grounds rattling the iron gates as she closed them. With hurried feet, Hermione raced to the pitch, a whistle blowing across the field as she crested to the stands; Rolanda diving out of the way as she released the bludgers, quaffle and snitch. Hermione quickly ascended the stairs, eyes mentally checking off who had a seat open as she reached the Professor's box. At once her eyes found Minerva sitting beside Filius and Lucius Malfoy of all people as she, herself, slid in next to Professor Hesch her stomach still in her throat at seeing the blond haired wizard five rows above her.

"Running a bit late, Professor Granger?" Marx stated glancing at her sideways.

"Momentarily." She replied adjusting her robes as she pulled out her gloves, trying to quell the shake in her hands at seeing Lucius after all these years. "Lost track of time."

He gave a distracted nod as the two Slytherin chasers passed the ball in a daring flip move around Bridget Smythe, a Ravenclaw chaser. "Here, I'd have thought you to be an avid quidditch fan."

Emily Jones, Ravenclaw's keeper, batted away the quaffle drawing a frown from the Head of Slytherin. "Though I do enjoy the game, my husband was the avid fan." She watched as Ravenclaw's chasers sped down the field, mind on the last time she had seen Lucius. It had been close to six years, the day he had been released from Azkaban.

Marx clapped as his team intercepted the quaffle, "You've never played?"

Neal Rae's shot soared through the goal post, Marx loudly clapping beside her, drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand, and not on how she felt about Lucius. "No." She stated as the announcer's voice boomed ten points to Slytherin. "Only watched."

"As Minerva's protégé, and as you are so alike, I thought you too had played quidditch." He tilted his head down, enabling Hermione to see over the rim of his darkly tinted glasses. "My apologies."

Hermione nodded, eyes glancing upwards…past Marx as she did, eyes landing for a fraction of a second upon Minerva…head tipped to the side as she listened to Lucius' comments. She felt bile rise into her mouth at seeing him so close to the Headmistress. _What in blazes is he doing here? _She wondered as her eyes returned to the pitch.

Her earlier musings about Minerva drifting subtly across her mind, momentarily pushing Malfoy from her thoughts as she had wondered for the twentieth time that day why she had awoken in her bed this morning, not that she minded…but she hadn't remembered falling asleep while waiting on Minerva. And why had Minerva sent her back to her rooms? Had she done something wrong? Not awaken her soon enough?

Minerva had looked far more rested this afternoon, but then again…it could merely have been a glamour charm. And she had yet had the opportunity to inquire from Minerva how she was feeling, as she had been serendipitously absent from the Order meeting this morning.

Just the thought about the Order meeting caused Hermione to wince…not because of who had attended, rather the duration and the constant questions regarding the incident from Monday night. Her involvement. How she had held off so many wizards? Johannes. And how she had survived against him? What his capabilities were? Could anyone other than Minerva take him? And Harold… The thought of the elder wizard caused a smile to erupt on her face as Marcus Allen, a Ravenclaw chaser, evened the score. Every member of the Order had asked him how to create a veiled shield. _It is a mystery…_he had stated, eyes sparkling as the room had erupted in protests.

As the meeting had come to a conclusion, Harold stated he would teach anyone _willing _to learn the necessary incantation and wand movement beginning next Saturday, but only if those taught consented not to share that information with anyone else.

Minerva watched as Clemons, Poppy, Pomona, and Filius stood upon her arrival; enabling her to take her preferred seat. She nodded her thanks to them as she walked past, drawing to a stop beside Filius and Lucius Malfoy. She gave him a curt nod, "Lucius."

"Minerva." He replied, "And I believe you know Andre Aegis."

Minerva gave the middle-aged man a nod, "It has been some time, Andre." She stated, the gentleman in an equally affluent, tailored robe as Lucius; though in a beautiful russet color that offset his sandy brown hair. He had gone to Hogwarts a few years before Lucius, but she knew they had been friends as both men were within the same house, Slytherin.

"Minerva," He reached his hand outwards, Minerva did the same…fingers interlacing in a strong grip by both in front of Lucius' midsection. "You are looking beautiful as always."

"And you, Andre, have remained a flatterer." She stated as their hands separated, "I hope you enjoy your day."

He gave a nod in thanks as Lucius offered a gentle hand outward to assist her with her seat.

Minerva reached out, both witch and wizard shared a look to the man on the other side of Lucius as she took the hand and gently sank to the bench. "Thank you." She stated, eyes sweeping through the Professor's and visitors seating, immediately noticing that a certain brown haired witch was absent. With a slight tilt of her head, she turned to Filius, voice not even loud enough to be construed a whisper. "What time did the meeting finish?"

"10:30." He stated as blond eyebrows furloughed, "Something the matter?"

"No dear." She replied as she straightened back up.

"I must say, Minerva that your actions these past months have left some…wondering." Lucius turned to Minerva, blond hair draping across his shoulder.

Minerva quirked her brow turning, "As with most things, I pay little attention to the ebb and flow of popular opinion."

He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling against the sun's light. "We both know that is not entirely true." A cheer went onto the field as Hooch set the quidditch box upon the pitch. "As you use it to your advantage, just as deftly as you transfigure objects. Perhaps…" He leaned closer, "You have more Slytherin within you than I would ever thought possible."

"Careful, Lucius…" Her voice rumbling with the applause, "Coming from you, I may consider that a compliment."

"After a fashion." He stated as Hooch released the snitch and the frenzy of the game was now in play. "Perhaps a friendly wager?"

Her eyes momentarily rested upon his, knowing that the stakes would be far higher than a simple game. "I tend to refrain, though…" She seemed to ponder, a hint of almond on the air rushing past her senses, _Hermione_…she thought momentarily distracted. And as if on cue, the witch rounded the corner and came into her peripheral view…before sitting next to Marx. "I could be persuaded." She forced her mind away from the young woman, the latest statement of headlines from the Prophet this morning concerning her and Ronald's divorce, how she had looked last night in her sapphire… "Unless 500 is too steep." At her words, she could feel Filius all but choke, able to cover it as a cheer as two of his chasers did a daring stunt around a Slytherin one.

Lucius gave a nod, "Not a problem, but I was hoping to clamber it to 769 as that is the galleon amount, plus interest since our _last _bet." He clapped as young Mr. Rae scored ten points, "And we are already up…_10_."

"Yes…" Minerva stated as the chasers squared off again… "But, I shall take the bet, none the less. What's _10_ points, if you have captured the snitch?"

"As you well know, _everything_ if you are the one with the higher _10_." Their eyes met for another brief moment, before Lucius and Minerva returned their attentions to the other persons sitting next to them.

"Do you know who the man sitting next to Lucius Malfoy is?" Hermione casually asked as she joined in the clapping for the tenth Slytherin goal over the past hour.

Marx didn't turn his head, "Andre Aegis."

"Why does that name ring a bell?" Hermione muttered to herself as the Ravenclaw team regrouped trying to recall where she would have heard of him from. _A trial perhaps? A sentenced death eater?_

"Perhaps Black Aegon?" He stated quietly so as he wouldn't be overheard.

Hermione felt her eyes grow large, "I thought he was still in Azkaban."

"The man _believed_ to hold that name, is." Marx stated, eyes returning to the game.

"How do you know…"

"I went to school with him." Marx replied before she had the opportunity to finish her question. "And he is incredibly resourceful, with very deep pockets."

"But to have someone else sent…" Brown eyes narrowed at her colleague, "Why didn't you come forward regarding the mistaken ruling?"

"All of us have decisions, Professor." He quietly stated, "And we have to live with the consequences of those decisions."

Hermione numbly clapped at something else that had happened on the pitch, joining the cheers, her mind on Marx's quiet statements about the man sitting next to Lucius…and she couldn't help wonder why he was here. Why would Minerva allow him upon the grounds? And Lucius…why was he here? Didn't Minerva know what he had done to her? If not done in deed himself, he had willingly taken part in it. Had willingly watched as Bellatrix had cast crucio after crucio. His taunting words…And now, there he sat…as though nothing had happened…next to Minerva…and they even seemed to be carrying on a conversation…or perhaps commentary would be more apropos. But…still… Hermione restrained from glancing behind her, knowing that too many times would cause suspicion, though…it didn't stop her from _wanting _to.

"I was surprised upon hearing of Professor Granger's appointment to your staff, Minerva." Lucius stated as Hermione glanced back to the pitch, their eyes having met briefly. "And in transfiguration. I would have thought muggle studies more her…_field _of expertise."

Minerva discreetly laid her right hand upon her agitated Deputy as she deftly replied to Lucius' remark. "Unlike most wizards or witches for that matter, Lucius. Hermione has the skills necessary to become a Master in more than one _field_." She turned to the man on her left, eyes challenging. "And she is a wonderful addition to the staff."

Andre leaned forward, brown eyes meeting her challenge with his own. "We shall see, Minerva. The year is…young."

Minerva didn't break her eye contact with him, despite wanting to glance to Lucius and see his reaction. She knew she couldn't. "I am sure her expertise will only increase with experience."

Andre gave a subtle nod, "Perhaps. Or become…careless, like so many other professors who once worked here."

It was Filius' hand this time that squeezed her own in a painful vice like grip as her face remained the picture of poise. "As with all things, Andre, life lies in the hands of another's perception."

Andre leaned his head back, chuckling. "You have _not _changed, Minerva. My apologies if you took offense to my comments, they were not intended as such."

Minerva gave a nod to the younger man, straightening back up…Filius finally releasing his grip upon her fingers as the two seekers dove through the center of the players, their goal obvious. They had seen the snitch.

Unobtrusively, Minerva flexed her hand…feeling her fingers pull as she did…her eyes falling to the witch several rows down, brown hair touching her shoulder blades, the way the sun graced her profile…and then Minerva tore her eyes away and back to the game as her mind replayed her conversations with Lucius…and Andre. The former had been expected, the latter's far more worrisome.

Hermione paused at the edge of the pitch, eyes glancing to the teachers and visitors box. Mildly surprised that Minerva was just now leaving, as was Andre and Lucius. They were chatting in what appeared to be an amicable manner and she couldn't help but wonder for the hundredth time that afternoon; why both the men had been at the game. And why in Merlin's beard was Minerva still talking to them?

Her eyes left the two men; lingering upon the witch as she herself paused and looked back over the field before joining the two men and descending the stairs. For one brief moment, it seemed that she was looking directly at her; and despite the distance, Hermione could still feel the intensity of her gaze.

Shaking her head at such nonsense, Hermione turned and left. The game had gone much longer than anyone had thought; and she needed to pick Rose and Hugo up from her parents before nightfall and the sun was already beginning to cast oranges and reds upon the sky. Twilight was approaching.

Filius was still shaking his head as he took a seat, "769 galleons, Minerva. Merlin…that was a steep bet to have lost."

Minerva pulled her hat off setting it upon her desk, "It could have been worse." She murmured as she continued walking towards the small sofa. "And it was worth the price." She stated sitting.

"How can you say that?" He squeaked. "You lost 769 galleons and the remarks…I barely managed not to hex him on three different occasions, Minerva!"

"Which I am most thankful." She stated, "As Lucius was here as my guest."

Filius felt his jaw slacken, "_Your _guest." He recovered almost instantly, "Minerva…why would you ask him here, with everything else…"

"He has information, Filius." She stated leaning forward, "That cannot be shared in the traditional sense."

Filius could do nothing but blink at his long time friend, dumbstruck. _Lucius…there…to share information._ He felt his head shaking no, mouth still unable to formulate a word or rebuttal.

"We have been meeting over the past several years at various sporting events, of course through pure happenstance to most and exchanging information."

"What…" Filius forced his mind to work, along with his mouth. "Information exchange, huh?"

Minerva felt a warm smile cross her face, "Yes. As you can imagine, neither one of us are able to merely meet and share information freely."

Filius' intellect quickly shinning through as he spoke while he absorbed the information, "A cause for consternation and alliances to both you and he." He steepled his fingers, voice becoming steady. "I was privy to almost the whole of your conversation, Minerva. Forgive me, but I failed to see much information being exchanged."

An impish glint reflected in her emerald eyes, "That is as it should be, Filius."

The large lights about the park were shinning bright against the black night, bathing the area in artificial light. George watched as Rose and Hugo ran to the muggle swings in the park, leaving him alone with Hermione. He gestured to the park bench, "They'll be fine."

Hermione smiled, eyes following her children. "They always are."

He chuckled sitting next to her. "They must get it from your side of the family, and not the Weasleys."

She tucked her leg up beneath her, "Maybe the Prewitts too."

George's gaze remained steadfast as Rose helped Hugo into the swing. "How are you doing?"

"Hmmm…" She muttered, "Doing?"

"Your back." He shifted slightly, "I know at the meeting today, you said you were fine, but…after everything…"

She smiled, "I still can't pick up anything too heavy. Helena has me taking a regiment of potions, herbs…and some foul tasting concoction that makes me gag every time for a week. So…next Tuesday is my last round. Otherwise, no adverse effects."

"You were _really _lucky, love." He leaned over, brushing his lips across her forehead. "Next time," He sat back down, "Don't model after McG and go where all fear to tread."

Hermione couldn't help the smile form upon her lips, _If only you knew, _she thought. "And look who's talking, running around with only a third of your clothes on. Really George…"

He chuckled, "True, but I wasn't hurt, love."

"And we wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't either." She rebutted. "So, I'll just be a bit more careful next time."

George met her piercing stare, and for a moment…it felt like he was meeting McG's gaze, save for the overwhelming sea of green. Finally, he nodded, "See that you are."

"I will." She stated defiantly.

"And…how are you doing with media?" He shook his head as he recalled some of the stories printed, "Both the Quibbler and Prophet have been relentless this week with their stories about you and Ron."

She sighed, "They'll run out of stuff to print…sooner or later."

George laid his hand upon her forearm, fingers gently caressing the hair upon her arm. "For both your sakes, I hope it is sooner."

A sick laugh erupted from her throat, "It won't be. We're news. And I fear, will continue to be with everything else going on."

He shook his head, "Give it a little bit of time, I'm sure, they'll start covering Johannes again."

"It didn't work on Tuesday, even after Aberforth had died. Dumbledore's brother, the owner of Hog's Head…dead by an attack, had been news on page 4 George."

"Advertisements on page 1 or 2 this week jumped in price by over 300 percent. Then again, so did their circulation."

She pulled her gaze away from Rose and Hugo's brilliant smiles, "You were going to run an ad?"

He shrugged, "Good business, doesn't mean I approve or like it, love." They sat quietly for several minutes watching the children, finally George's soft voice breaking the stillness. "What do you know of Rory?"

"As in Rory Wallace, the Order member Rory?" She asked turning to the lithe man beside her.

A smile tugged at his lips in response, "Yes, that Rory."

"He's good friends with Minerva." She stated without hesitation, "Has been for years." She watched as his face seemed to imperceptibly fall, "George, what are you looking for?"

"I…" He swallowed hard, eyes no longer able to meet hers, "Friends with McG you say."

Hermione nodded, eyes questing over his face, searching for an ounce of understanding. "For at least the last five decades. Perhaps longer." She paused, still trying to gauge her friend's emotions. "Probably one of her closest friends."

He absently nodded as if in thought, and then frowned. He remained quiet for another two minutes, obviously debating…

"Just ask." Hermione stated, "Whatever your question, ask, George. If I can answer, I will."

Without preamble, he did…and it took her breath away. "Is he her lover now?" His quiet voice asked.

_Lover. Minerva a lover…with Rory…_ "No." She stated mind still ringing with the notion of Minerva having a lover. As if it would be a common occurrence. That despite being widowed, she would be involved with someone. "I…" Hermione met George's gaze with her own, "I am sure they are not."

"You're sure?" George frowned, at Hermione's nod. "I saw them in Diagon Alley not long ago, and they just seemed _very _comfortable with each other. In a way, that I have never seen McG be."

"Picture Harry and I or you and I in another fifty years." She replied.

He gave a halfhearted smile, eyes gazing back out into the night. "It's good that she has friends…" He muttered quietly before feigning a smile and glancing at her. "I hear that you and Angelina are going out a week from tonight."

Hermione was slightly off balance at the sudden shift in conversation, but answered regardless. "As friends, George." He quirked his brow, disbelieving. "Nothing more."

"Are you sure?" His devilish smile lighting up his face, almost covering up the shadow that had been shrouding his blue eyes.

"We've been exchanging letters on a regular basis, and it is nice to have someone to speak with…other than Harry and Ginny. A different perspective so to speak outside of the Weasley family." She stated, "As for the more part," She shook her head, "I'm content with just being friends with her, George."

"Have you told this to Angelina?" He asked feeling mildly concerned for his other close friend.

"I have, and she said she was alright with it." Hermione stated as Rose and Hugo were scrambling back into the swings after having jumped out mid-swing and gliding through the air. "So, we're just going out, two friends. A few drinks, a few laughs…"

"Just…" He cleared his throat, "Please don't lead her on, love."

Hermione frowned outright, "George, I already spoke with her and told her that I just wanted to be friends. Nothing more." Concern lacing her eyes, "Is there something I should know?"

He shook his head, "No. Just I worry about you, and her…and I know she likes you. And I just don't want there being any…wrong notions."

Hermione smiled at his thoughtfulness, "We'll be fine." She leaned forward, elbows upon her knees thinking when in the world she would have time for a relationship with her schedule, a laugh immediately erupting from her lips.

"What?" He inquired as Hermione was almost doubling over in laughter.

"I was thinking of my schedule…" She took a deep breath, "And the notion of a relationship." She shook her head, "I had more time in my third year with a double course load and a time turner than I do now."

A low chuckle rumbled through George's chest. "Surely, it can't be that bad."

Hermione nodded, "Worse. Between classes, the children, marking, Head of House duties…which your products are most unhelpful, the Order…" Hermione reached over, hand upon his arm finally realizing why he had asked about Rory. "You weren't asking about Rory because of Minerva, were you?"

A jolt passed over his face before he could stop it, and he dropped his gaze. "I was just asking what you knew about him."

"George…" Hermione's own heart hammering in her chest as she realized what he was looking for. "They are close because, he used to be involved with her…brother."

George's face immediately snapped up to met hers, "Brother? McG had a brother? Is he still alive?"

"Yes and no, he's not."

Hermione watched as a spark seemed to ignite within George's blue eyes, "How long ago did he die?"

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know exactly. But it has been decades ago, and as for Rory…and her brother, I don't think many know or rather knew, of their relationship."

"And now? Do you know…I mean…is he…" Hermione couldn't help the smile from forming on her face. It was incredibly uncharacteristic for George to stammer…and after another five seconds, she couldn't handle it any more.

"I don't know if he's involved with someone, George. Nor do I have that good of a relationship with him to ask. That…" She leaned over breathe across his cheek. "Is all _you._" She said kissing his cheek and standing. "Rose! Hugo!"

George stood, "Come on rascals!" He turned her, "You're sure?" He could see the two children sprinting towards them, "That he…"

Hermione nodded, recalling the photo album Minerva had leant her for a short time and the pictures of Derrick and Rory within. "I believe they had a relationship for several years."

George knelt down scooping Rose into his arms as Hermione grabbed up Hugo.

"That was awesome!" Rose said. "Can we come back here tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" Hugo said in between a deep yawn. "Swings!"

"Not tomorrow, sweethearts." Hermione stated, "I have some things to do at Hogwarts tomorrow."

"Uncs George…pease?" Hugo asked puckering his lips at his uncle. "Pease cans we?"

He shook his red head, mind still on the notion that his interest in Rory…wasn't for naught. "Huh…no, Hugo." He met the young boys gaze, "Your mom has work to do tomorrow, so you'll be remaining at Hogwarts."

"That's alright, Hugo." Rose stated fingers trailing along her Uncle's unique robes. "We could see Aunt Minerva."

George turned to Hermione, brow quirked in question. But had to wait for an answer from Hermione as Hugo let out a large whoop in joy. Yelling out, "Puppy!"

"She tries to see them when they are at the castle." Hermione stated, "And told them to stop calling her Aunt McGonagall."

"Did you know she has a huge office?" Rose asked George, eying him intently. "And that it has all these pictures on the wall, but hers isn't because she's not dead yet?"

George couldn't stop his chuckle, "Yes, I knew that Rose."

"Pillow to puppy…to rabbit…" Hugo muttered curling his arm around his mother's neck, flipping the edge of her collar with his finger as his head nestled against her shoulder. "To frog…to bird…"

"So Hugo and me, we gave her a picture to put up on her wall so she'd be up there and still be here." Rose stated proudly.

"I'm sure McG loves it." He kissed her cheek.

"Mc…G?" Rose's face gave a frown, "That's not her name."

George glanced to Hermione, "Are you going to the Gates?"

She gave a nod, "Yes, but I'll…"

He winked, "I'll see you in a minute…" He stated over Rose's head before taking a second to answer her question and explain that although Rose was granted the wonderful privilege of calling the Headmistress Aunt Minerva, he had been granted an equal privilege and she permitted him to call her McG. He went on to explain that it meant as much to him as calling her Aunt Minerva as it did to Rose.

"I think I understand." Rose stated and looked to her left, "Where's mom and Hugo?"

"They are waiting on us I think. Hold on, little one." And a second later, they were standing beside Hugo and Hermione in front of the massive gates of Hogwarts. "Down you go, dear."

Rose frowned, "Don't you wanna come up?" Tugging on his fingers, "Please Uncle George?"

"It is well past both of your bedtimes." Hermione reached out her fingers, touching the rod iron with her fingers. The gates immediately opened and she dropped her fingers and grabbed Rose's outstretched hand. "Perhaps in a few weeks."

Hugo's eyes barely blinked, and both adults knew he would be asleep before she had arrived at her rooms. As for Rose she nodded, "Bye Uncle George." She dropped her mother's hand and gave him a big hug, George leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Bye my beautiful Rose." He whispered and she giggled, as she placed her hand back into her mother's hand.

George then straightened and stepped closer to Hermione. "I shall be in touch, love." He kissed her cheek, "Always a pleasure."

"Let me know if anything, develops." She stated stepping away, "And I'll talk to you soon."

George nodded as she turned and they began to walk towards Hogwarts, the gates swinging close...and George couldn't help the bubbly mood nor the goofy grin upon his lips as thoughts returned to the Highlander man – Rory Wallace. _Perhaps this week wasn't all that bad after all…_he thought, apparating away.

Tily set the tray of tea down, "Anything else, Minerva?"

"Huh?" She glanced up from her small desk located within her private rooms, "I'm sorry, Tily. No, please get some sleep. And thank you."

Tily nodded and was about to leave when she paused, blinking up at Minerva. "If you'se need anything else, Elgin will be awake shortly."

Minerva gave a solitary nod in understanding. Her sleeping patterns had begun to tax even the elves. "I understand Tily."

Tily let her gaze linger for a moment on the witch and with a crack she was gone, Albus' voice immediately replacing the quiet.

"What woke you this time?" He gently asked.

Minerva paused in pulling her quill from the inkpot, eyes turning to the portrait. "The death of Percival and his daughter."

"Minerva you _must _find a way to get some sleep." He stated imploringly.

"I'm trying, love." She said, eyes burning from the light. "But tonight…" She let her gaze remain for a moment, "It was so real…lifelike…I could even feel the heat of the fire that killed Audrey."

"That's the third time you've had the dream. Maybe it's…"

He stopped at her pursed lips, knowing that any further discussion along that vein was fruitless. "It is most certainly _not _a vision, Albus."

His eyes twinkled in response, "I'm glad over the years, some things have remained steadfast."

At that she too chuckled, "I believe that if I were to live for another hundred years, my feelings on divination would remain unchanged."

"Tabby…no matter how real the dreams…"

Minerva's lips thinned, "These are far worse than dreams Albus…it's like a dream twisted into that of a memory, giving it texture…scope…"

"And you aren't sleeping because of them."

"I knew this was a possibility…"

"A side effect, my dear that would go away." He corrected.

"And I got several hours last night."

"Because of a dreamless draught, which you still needed to be awoken from." He stated feeling irritated at his wife.

"And I fell asleep this morning for almost another four hours…"

"Tabby…don't." He pleaded, "I don't want to argue." He tried to lean forward, silently cursing the canvas…the frame, "I want you to talk to me…tell me what's going on…I want to try and help."

Her fingers dropped the quill at his words as his voice brought back memories of a time long since past. "I don't know why I'm not sleeping, Albus. Merlin knows…I've tried. You've seen the sheer amount of potions I've drank, the physical exercise…the mental exercises too…" She peeled her glasses off, blinking her eyes… "And you ask…and Elgin and Tily…and Hermione…and Filius…like I have some control over my damn ability to sleep or not."

Albus knew his wife was tired…knew the last several weeks were wearing on her nerves… "I just want you to talk about what you see when you sleep."

"You, dead. Esmerele…dead….Callum….dead…" Her voice beginning to break, "And Harold and Helena dead…Tessa dead…Derrick dead…Percival…Filius…" A tear slipped off her cheek, "Rory…Hermione…the grandchildren…all dead. And me…with the rubble of Hogwarts resting beneath my feet, alive."

"Many of those people are not dead." He stated, trying to make her see reason.

She dropped her hand from her face, "And neither were you one morning…and then later that night you were."

"Minerva…"

She shook her head, "Don't, Albus. _You_ aren't here. _You _don't know. And this…" Her voice rising an octave, "Is horrible. The dreams…they come…insidiously slipping into memories to create nightmares…with the same intensity as a Hukbar knowing that the man I love…the man I am bound to cannot chase the demons away. He's been damned…as have I." She took a deep breath, "And I try to fight off the damn nightmares, Albus. But…there is no solace, only another nightmare waiting to be seen the next time I close my eyes. This last week…they have lessened in their intensity, so I hope…"

"They are beginning to wane."

Minerva sighed, "Or else, I'll be asking Hermione for a dreamless draught every few days…" She put her glasses back on wearily, "I'm so tired, I'm seeing shadows of my dreams while awake…" She chuckled, "And Elgin was worried about my bloody hands shaking…"

Oxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_A/N: See ya soon._


	31. Chapter 29 November 1st, 2009

**Chapter 29 ~ November 1****st**** 2009 (Sunday)**

Helena felt two familiar arms wrap around her, and she smiled leaning back into his embrace. "Good morning."

"Hmmm." He leaned forward, kissing her neck, "Yes, it is." He rumbled against her skin. "What are you so diligently working on?"

She tipped her head up, capturing his lips as he went to pull back. "Nothing that can't wait a moment." She said a few minutes later, breathlessly against his skin.

Harold's eyes narrowed at the tattered journal and papers, "Helena…" He turned his head, "What has caused you…" He reached out, and felt Helena gently tug against his arm. "To pull all of Meric's writings out, dear?"

Helena sighed, "I just remembered seeing something, and…" She shrugged, "I started looking."

Harold realized by the burn of the candles, his wife had been up for hours. "What time _did _you wake up?" Her face told of her guilt, and he shook his head, "Did you even go to bed?"

"Yes." She stated incredulously, "I _did _go to bed." Her lips quirked a smile, "Though I was up by three."

He dropped his left arm from her waist, "Did you at least find what you were looking for?" He asked, voice becoming raised as he disappeared into their kitchen for a moment.

Helena turned back around, already pulling her glasses back on… "Yes, and I never realized that Meric hadn't accounted for daily variables. His future writings were based off a very simple alignment of…"

Harold sighed, knowing that baring an emergency at St. Mungos his wife would be pouring over Meric's notes. Looking… He poured the water into the pot, listening to her talk, but her words caught his straying attention. "What dear?" He said, stepping back around the hall to ensure he had heard her correctly. "I didn't catch the last part."

Helena glanced up, a frown clearly evident upon her face. "Didn't catch or wasn't listening?"

"Dear." He gave her his best, not now look.

"I thought so." She grumbled, "As I was saying, the reason Meric's calculations have rang true even so long after his death, is because he was using space or rather in this case the person as the fixed point…"

"Time is not the constant which we both knew, but he established it as a variable…"

"That would become exponential, but just like magic; he built in ground rules into his equation."

"Just like you can't conjure water or food…"

She picked up the worn journal, pulling on her page marker, the pages tumbling backwards. "You know these…"

He stepped forward, taking the offered text into his hands. And glanced at it…eyes squinting to try and force the print into legible words. Sighing, he pulled the book away, and glanced about. "Have you seen my glasses?"

Helena raised her brow, "I recall you saying just last week that your vision hadn't become worse."

"It hasn't." He stated turning around and walking down the hall to the den as he called back, "My eyes merely are getting older…" His voice growing fainter, "And don't like to focus as often."

"Remember I am a healer, Harold." She stated as his long stride could be heard coming back down the hall. "Try again."

He glanced up, a smile lighting his eyes. "I can see fine." His eyes darting down to the print, "It's just your writing, dear." She could see his eyes scanning the equations, "When you're in a hurry, it's almost completely illegible."

"At least you can make out that it is English, last time I tried to read yours…it looked like you were trying to imitate Egyptian." She pointed to the bottom, "The second to the last…"

His eyes skipped ahead, "It's redundant to…" He started to point, but Helena came around, finger pointing to the -/+ sign.

"He added the + sign."

"A balance…" Harold muttered, eyes skimming ahead. "Have you figured out what this was to compensate for?"

"As far as I can tell, he wrote this when Callum was fifteen, Minerva thirteen and Derrick ten. Their overall personalities set. I think he started experimenting here…" She reached over pulling several sheaves of parchment, "On himself with a similar equation."

Harold took the papers, "Alright, but then how am I written into the picture…" He muttered, "I never understood…or Filius…Pomona…"

She frowned, head shaking. "He was brilliant, Harold. It's taken me close to fifty years to break part of his equation process. Now…" She pulled down what looked to be very new and hasty calculations, "I took _that_ equation and applied it to Minerva as of today."

"Are you sure it's for Minerva?" He asked scanning the lines of calculations.

"I've seen it throughout his texts when she's been included."

"And?" He went to reach for the second page, but she seemed unwilling to give it to him. "What is it, Helena?"

Slowly she handed him the final piece of parchment, hands already moving papers across the table as if searching for something else. "It's a variation of…" She pulled out Meric's second to last entry. "This."

Harold felt his heart stop in his chest at the final words upon the sheaf of paper within his hand. _Minerva McGonagall deceased on February 25__th__ 2010. _He glanced up, "Where are the rest of calculations for the carry overs?"

Unsteadily, Helena reached down, feeling her stomach lurch at the look of fear upon his face. His eyes immediately jumped to the bottom of each page…Dead. All dead. Percival…Audrey…their still unborn child…Tessa…Malcolm…Callum…Katherine… With shaking fingers he flipped the next one, and felt tears prickling his eyes at the sight of their own names…with the same date and outcome beside it. "Are…" He cleared his throat…not able to look at who else's name appeared beneath their own. "This…I don't remember this in Meric's…"

"Here…" She took the papers from his hand, steadying them with her own. "This…is Meric's."

"She still dies. But…" He skimmed the small calculations, "The family lives." He frowned, "Why the difference?"

"There are two unknowns, as he has a second equation that I have been trying to find the master key to so I can use it to run the numbers. And…" She sighed, "Then there is Hermione."

"She dies on the 25th too?" He asked not understanding what she was referring to.

"No." Helena stated, drawing the chair out. "And when I factor her into the equation, unlike most of the younger generation, they are not significant to sway the balance for more than a few persons, and always the youngest. As I'm guessing that is where all the energy would go to, saving the grandchildren. However, Hermione…" She drew her glasses off her nose, blue eyes piercing her husbands, "When I placed her into the equation…" She handed another small stack to Harold. "It became a whole other end."

Harold flipped the pages…eyes skimming the bottom, but stopping at the last one. "Everyone lives," His eyes glancing over the silver frame of his glasses to peer at into his wife's brilliant eyes. "Except Percival, Audrey, their child and Minerva."

"I need to find his second equation." Helena quietly said as she stared into her husband's loving eyes. "Because…when I do an Arthimancy equation without, _this,_" She pointed to the one equation she had found this morning, "And conduct it like a standard Arthimancy formula, I can only run the numbers through the middle of November…after that, there are just _too _many variables, people, places, events…and…" Her voice was broken, "There has to be a way. It's…" She held up Meric's book. "In here. His last entry. She lives."

Harold took the two steps that separated them, and kissed her forehead, "Let me grab some coffee, dear." He whispered into her hair. "And I'll help."

She nodded, "I thought you hated Arthimancy…" She murmured as he pulled away.

His eyes glanced down to the stack of papers beside her, the ones with the matching dates and outcomes. "I do." He replied. "To not be able to interject choice…"

"There's always choice, and not everything can be calculated…"

"God…" His eyes darted down to the date, _February 25__th__ 2010_, "I hope not."

Hermione glanced up at to look at Godric's portrait, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She frowned at her son who had chosen two seconds ago to let out a bellowing scream.

"The Headmistress is here."

Hermione didn't have an opportunity to move as both of her children went flying to the door, screaming Aunt Minerva. "Don't jump up!" She stated loudly as Rose and Hugo both slid around the corner of the door into her study.

Hermione glanced to the clock as she followed; it was just before 12:30. No wonder why they had stopped listening, it was getting close to their naptime. Well, at least Minerva won't feel obligated to stay long, she thought as she stepped into her study in time to see Hugo launch himself at Minerva as did Rose.

Hermione felt a smile curl upon her lips as she watched the other woman pick up Hugo with ease and gently kiss Rose upon her cheek. "Good afternoon my wee bonnie lass…" She stated, her brogue unnaturally thick as she straightened up. "And you, my little lad seemed to have grown since I last saw you."

"Really?" Hugo's eyes widened, a smile splitting his face too.

"I am quite certain." The Scottish woman stated, a rare smile lighting her eyes.

"Wait till I tell mum!" He leaned over giving her a slobbery kiss, "Tanks Aunt Merva." And it was evident, he needed to get down…to go tell his mother that he had grown again.

Hermione watched as Minerva let him down, noting that she was a natural with children, and they were with her too. It was as if they were too small to be stopped by her incredibly fierce personal walls that normally defined her relationships…

"Mum!" Hugo drew to a halt at seeing his mother standing in the corner of the room, "Aunt Merva said I grews!"

Hermione chuckled, "Did she?"

He nodded, "Yup." He pointed to the other room, "Measure…?"

"I'll be along in a minute and then we'll see." Hermione said smiling at Minerva who was conversing with Rose about what book she had just read, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

"I don't believe I've read that one." Minerva stated glancing up to Hermione in question.

Hermione smiled and mouthed _muggle children's book_.

Minerva gave an unobtrusive smile and turned back to Rose, "But perhaps I could borrow it and read it too."

"Sure." Rose said simply, "Or…" She glanced to her mom, "Can Aunt Minerva read to us for a little while."

"How about you measure Hugo for me, let us talk for two minutes and then we'll be in. And…" Hermione paused making sure Rose listened, "You'll only have a half an hour to spend because then you are going down for your nap."

"But mom…" Rose began to stick her lower lip out.

Instantly an edge came to Hermione's voice, "What did I tell you?"

"Yes, mother." She said turning on her heel and walking into their living room.

Hermione waited until her daughter had walked through before glancing up to Minerva, who was standing there looking at her with a bemused expression. "Good afternoon, Minerva. Thank you for taking some time out of your schedule to visit with the children."

"And to you Hermione." Her eyes twinkled, "As for making the time, don't be silly, and I thank you for the invitation. You have wonderful children."

"They enjoy your company." Hermione honestly replied.

Minerva paused, the light reflecting off Hermione's eyes and for a moment, it felt…timeless and then Hermione blinked, the moment gone. "And I theirs."

"Elgin said you didn't get much sleep last night." Hermione stated, wanting to broach the topic but could immediately feel Minerva's reservations sweep over the elder woman.

"Perhaps a topic for another time." Minerva succinctly stated, eyes darting to the other room. Her discomfort palatable.

"I was just…concerned." Hermione stated, not wanting to push too much, but fearing that if she didn't bring it up that it would be dropped again until Minerva passed out from exhaustion.

Minerva's jaw rippled, voice strained. "And I thank you, but I will…let you know if I need further assistance."

Hermione's eyes narrowed measuring the other woman's sincerity, "Will you?"

Minerva met Hermione's startling strong gaze, with her own. "Yes." She answered quietly.

"Minerva…" Hermione went to reach out, but Rose's voice burst into the room.

"Are you coming?" She asked, looking exasperated at her mother and aunt.

"I grewed!" Hugo stated sliding into the door behind his sister and then was barreling around her, "You is right Aunt Merva." He stuck his arms out, smile plastered on his face. "I grewed! I's taller." He jumped up into her arms, "Likes you!"

Hermione sighed, eyes darting back to her living room and then to Marx. "One moment."

Hermione swept from her study and through the doorway, both children sitting on either side of Minerva who had begun reading the book to the children. At once, Minerva stopped and glanced up to see Hermione's gaze snap from her to the children and back. "There is a problem that…would be better if I handled versus Marx…"

Minerva nodded, "Go, I'm sure we'll be fine."

Rose nodded pulling her blanket up higher, eyes falling from her mother and back to the book held within Minerva's hand. "Go, Mom. We're reading."

Hugo was playing with his stuffed phoenix but stopped and glanced to his mom. "Shhh…Aunt Merva's reading, mum."

Hermione fought to keep from chuckling at her children who had summarily dismissed her, and she glanced back to Minerva. "I'll be back within twenty minutes."

Minerva nodded, eyes already returning to the words. "Now where were we…"? She stated and Hermione paused for a second to watch Rose point to where they were. "Ah yes." Minerva cleared her throat, "Charlie stepped into the…"

Hermione already whisking towards the door, "Ready?"

Marx nodded, "Are you sure you don't want me to get Pomona? I know you have your children here this weekend…"

"They'll be fine." Hermione stated without explanation, both Professors stepping into the hall and heading towards the Tower.

Hermione groaned; she hadn't meant to take as long as she had. But, the young woman had been mortified that she had started her cycle…and others had noticed. Hermione's feet flew across the steps, she had said twenty minutes to Minerva…and it had been closer to an hour. _I hope the children have fallen asleep by now, _Hermione thought as she reached Godric's picture.

"Please tell me they have behaved for her." Hermione stated to Godric.

He shrugged, "It has been quiet since you left."

Hermione muttered her password and entered. Her ears immediately perked for noise, but she didn't hear anything. _Perhaps they did fall asleep,_ she thought quietly stepping forward. She heard the soft snores of her children a moment before she stepped around the corner, expecting to see Milksy waiting for her or even Minerva sitting by the fire reading…but never in all of her thoughts had she expected to see what greeted her eyes.

Her children were nestled on either side of Minerva; Rose upon her right shoulder, arm across her chest gently touching Hugo's arm…as her son was upon her left one…her head nestled against his…glasses still perched upon her nose…hair beginning to fall out from her carefully crafted bun…all three were sleeping peacefully.

Hermione stood there for several minutes in shock and awe. Shock that Minerva was sleeping…and awe that all it took was a nap with her children to accomplish it. She looked so peaceful…resting there upon the couch, her children in either arm. As the light from the fire flickered in combination with the shadows upon Minerva's face, it was evident that the woman portrayed to the world was very different than the one beneath the surface. She typically portrayed herself as confident, strong, assured, unyielding, brave and never an ounce of fear. And as Hermione stared at the usually stalwart woman, Minerva moved…head turning to the side…more hair escaping from her bun, framing her face…arms involuntarily tightening around the children, Hermione realized that she had seen her as a person…one with a startling intellect, fierce loyalty and protection of her family, a devout friend…all of which very few had the privilege of seeing and as Hugo snuggled deeper into Minerva's shoulder, Hermione realized that even fewer people ever saw the woman before her as that…a woman.

She so rarely let go of the persona that had come to define the woman with the name, Minerva McGonagall. _No wonder why Helena and her friends protect her so steadfastly_, Hermione thought as Hugo shifted again…and Minerva innately moved to accommodate. _She is just like everyone else_…Hermione thought watching the heart-warming scene before her. _But no one ever sees an ounce of weakness from the formidable witch…no one sees the human behind the legend…no one sees the woman behind the witch…_

A soft sigh slipped from Minerva's lips and Hermione found herself staring at the lines that encompassed her face. The line of her high cheekbones…long lashes…even noticing the soft hairline wrinkles along the edge of her eyes…

Vaguely she heard Myriam's words echo over her from the other night, _She is delectable to watch…_and Hermione took a breath as the fire crackled to her right, pulling her attention. _Delectable…no,_ Hermione thought, summoning another blanket from her room. _ Rather, timelessly beautiful_, she opened the blanket draping it over Minerva and her children. With another wave, the last of Minerva's hair spilled onto the enlarged sofa as the long hairpins landed within Hermione's hand. Hermione flicked her wand two more times, the sofa morphed into a large bed…and Minerva's glasses joined her hair pins…which Hermione set upon the coffee table as she left the room and entered her study to begin her marking. She had sixth year essays to grade.

Hermione glanced at the clock, as Rose sleepily stumbled into the room. "Mom?" It had been three hours. Her children never slept that long. Sighing, she stood, feeling her own muscles pull.

"Shhh…" Hermione stated, "I'm here." She leaned over brushing her daughter's bushy hair from her face and noticing the long lines that marked her skin from not apparently moving for hours on end.

Rose blinked up at her, "I…" She paused yawning again, "Like when Aunt Minerva reads to me."

"I'm sure she enjoyed it too." Hermione stated.

"She's still sleeping. Hugo is too." Rose turned her head to look into the living room.

"I know darling." Hermione replied, "How about we try and not wake them?"

Rose seemed to think about this, and Hermione could tell her daughter _wanted _to wake them, but finally nodded. "For a little while."

And as if on cue, Hugo yawned deeply and turned over…eyes opening…as his legs crunched up. Hermione didn't take the chance and strode over to the edge and at once, picked him up. "Good afternoon precious." She whispered, "Let's get you to the bathroom." She nodded to Rose, "You too."

Rose sleepily nodded…and began traipsing after her mother…Minerva stretching out, shifting…and Hermione paused believing she too would awaken, only for her to turn over, pulling a pillow over to her.

"In you go." Hermione stated to Hugo, hoping that Minerva would sleep for several more hours. She obviously needed it.

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Her father asked leaning over to give her a strong hug.

"Yeah." Hermione replied breathlessly, momentarily unable to breath until her father released his arm. "Sorry I couldn't pick up the children sooner yesterday. Its just quidditch started and I had a meeting…"

"Don't worry about it dear." He stated, eyes upon his daughter, knowing that his wife had the grandchildren well in hand. "And the computer, how is it working? I keep forgetting to ask."

"Wonderfully." Hermione replied, "I even began lesson 2 this morning. Hugo has been helping." She recalled him saying hello to her in Gaelic.

"And…has he your aptitude for learning?"

"Learning…we'll see; but languages…" She nodded, "He picks up very quickly." She paused, "Dad…like I said before there's some stuff going on in the wizarding world…"

Robert immediately detected his daughter's concern; "We've been over this before, dear. We're fine."

"I just…" She sighed, "Be careful, dad. You know, don't let anyone in. If someone comes here asking for me…"

"Don't worry about us, Hermione. I'll load the double barrel this evening." He said trying to ally her concerns.

"The children…"

"Will be fine." He stated, voice indicating that there was no room for argument, but Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle cap.

"No dad. They wouldn't be if wizards or witches came after them." She put the cap into his hand. "This is a port key. It folds time and space, enabling travel over long distances. If someone comes here…and you're unsure…have Hugo touch Rose and both of you touch her with the cap in her hand. She only needs to say Godric."

Robert began to interrupt, "Hermione…I'm sure…"

"Dad this is important, please. Just repeat the word. Godric."

He frowned, "Godric."

She nodded, "I'm sure nothing will happen either, it's just…you always taught me, better safe than sorry."

"Yes, I did. But…where will _this_ take the lot of us?"

"To Harry and Ginny's house."

Robert nodded, "Alright. I don't like it, but if someone comes here that we don't know we'll use this, portkey. Satisfied?"

Hermione smiled, leaning in and kissing her dad. "Yes. And thank you, Dad."

"Robert!" Jean yelled out through the front door, "Oh, hello sweetheart didn't know you were still here."

"Just leaving mom." Hermione squeezed her dad's hand again and waved to her mom. "Bye." And apparatus back to Hogwarts' gates.

She wasn't going to say anything to her parents, but after everything that was happening…she didn't want to take the chance that her parents or children would be injured. She knew that a portkey wasn't much in the ways of defense against a wizard, but it was a start. Besides, she knew her father had impeccable aim; and after the last time with Voldemort, she had sworn never to muddle their memories again.

They said they would be fine and had a right to know what was going on and make a decision, as it was not Hermione's to make for them. She had agreed at the time, never believing there would ever be a need to do something as drastic as she did during her seventh year. But…she opened the large double doors to the aged school, it seemed she had been wrong. She had spoken to them three weeks ago, and they had adamantly refused to leave sighting that the neighbors were good and would help protect them if someone came. Besides, they felt they were far too insignificant to be wanted by anyone…

Hermione had thought of warding her parents' property but had to refrain because of where it was located in London. Besides, she wouldn't be able to adjust all the wards without being there for weeks because of all her parents' friends. Sighing she rounded the corner, legs automatically ascending the 147 steps to her rooms…her mind upon her parents…and how vulnerable they were.

"Good evening Godric." She said as the door swung open and unlike earlier, and the deathly silence upon entry…she heard strangled whimpers and at once ran to the noise to see Minerva tossing and turning…the linens and covers pooled at her feet…tendrils of sweaty hair stuck to her face.

"Minerva." She said, leaning down next to her…gently touching her shoulder. "You're at Hogwarts. Minerva…"

The other woman's eyes snapped open, body rigid…a deep breath held within her lungs…as she blinked wide eyed at Hermione.

"Everything is alright. You fell asleep with Rose and Hugo…"

Minerva let the breath out and closed her eyes, body immediately relaxing. "How…long." She muttered still mildly breathless.

"It's close to seven." Hermione stated. "I don't know what time you fell asleep, but you've been sleeping since before two."

Minerva took another breath, trying to will the nightmare away, but the faces still flashed before her mind's eye. Sighing, she gave up, knowing it would be of no use and sat up as she opened her eyes, feeling her hair tumble down her back. "I'm sorry…" She realized that she was within Hermione's living room. "I did not mean to inconvenience…"

Hermione placed a hand upon Minerva's arm halting her movement to shift to the edge of the bed, her intent to get up and leave, obvious. "You didn't. Nor do I want to hear an apology from you because you slept. There was no inconvenience, Minerva." Hermione let go of her arm, "I was going to have Milks bring some dinner up, as I didn't eat with the children. Would you like something?"

Minerva closed her eyes for a long moment…wishing she wasn't hearing Helena's screams…or the warmth of her dearest friend's blood dripping off her own hands as she tried to stop the curse from spreading. "I…" She licked her lips, "Perhaps a bit of tea."

Hermione noticed the ashen color of Minerva's complexion. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She said, "Just still a bit tired." She turned and smiled to the younger woman, "Perhaps I've had too much sleep this weekend."

Hermione stood chuckling, "Doubtful."

Minerva stood and felt her back and hip catch, "My joints would disagree with you, Hermione." She glanced about the room, noticing her glasses and hairpins sitting beside the muggle book she had been reading to Rose and Hugo. "If you will excuse me for a moment." She couldn't stop the wince from passing over her face as she leaned over and picked up her things, and then walked to the bathroom.

While waiting on her return, Hermione transfigured the bed back into the sofa and banished the linens. She adjusted the seats and asked Milksy to bring a second meal after hers arrived, hoping Minerva was hungrier than she believed.

Dinner passed quietly, the conversation mainly focusing upon Rose and Hugo and how quickly they were growing. It wasn't until after Milksy took the plates that Hermione noticed Minerva finally relax again.

Minerva's discomfort hadn't been overt, but it had been there…lining Minerva's movements, taking the edge from her smile… "Minerva…when I woke you, what had you been dreaming about?" Hermione asked, wondering if there had been a correlation.

Minerva twirled her teacup within her long fingers, debating. "Helena…dying." She quietly replied. "But, it wasn't as intense as most."

Hermione forced herself to remain unresponsive, but she felt her mouth dry. "What do you mean, not as intense?"

"The nightmares are after effects from the Hukbar, and they…" A gentle smile graced her face, "I believe are beginning to wane."

"And if someone had to perform the Hukbar and their memories had been positive…"

Minerva's brow rose, "They would be sleeping far better in the evening."

"The other night…I know that it took me a while to wake you, and if I somehow offended…" Minerva's face began drawing into a frown as Hermione continued on, "I probably shouldn't have fallen asleep. I don't know how long it took Dumbledore to wake…"

Minerva realized the basis of Hermione's concern and immediately leaned forward, her long fingers gently brushing across Hermione's arm, effectively stopping Hermione's ramblings before she straightened back up. "Hermione, I can assure you that you did fine Friday evening." She stated, "I just needed to clear my head, and when I returned you were asleep. I asked Elgin to take you to your rooms, as I figured you would be more comfortable within them. I was grateful and remain so for your assistance."

Hermione felt her ears turning pink, "When I woke up, and I saw I was back in my rooms…" She shrugged at her own misguided thoughts.

Minerva forced her own discomfort aside, voice soft. "As you are aware, I let very few people into my life and…find talking about my own…weaknesses rather difficult." She paused as if searching for the words, and after several seconds she set her cup down, interlacing her fingers upon her lap. "If I do not continue to sleep after a couple days, I…" She tightened her fingers unobtrusively in her lap, "Do not wish to impose, rather…"

"I'd be happy to help." Hermione finished a gentle smile upon her lips. "And it is no imposition, Minerva."

Minerva felt a weight ease off her mind, "I thank you, dear."

Hermione reached forward, refilling her teacup. "As I said, not a problem."

Minerva nodded letting her fingers drop, "You said earlier that you gave a portkey to your parents…"

Hermione nodded as she added a cube of sugar. "Yes." She picked up the spoon, "Why do you ask?"

"Preparation dear." Minerva obliquely replied.

Hermione paused as she stirred, glancing up to meet Minerva's eyes. "What do you know that you aren't sharing with me?"

Minerva opened her mouth to say _nothing_…but found she couldn't. After everything they had shared so far, after her unending support…the trust…and Minerva found that despite the need to partition, the need to distance Hermione from the potential threat…she didn't have heart to dodge Hermione's question or obfuscate with her answer.

"Minerva…" Hermione began to worry at her lack of response, "What do you know?"

Minerva reached up, brushing a strand of her hair back; the thick braid had been cast hurriedly and was already beginning to pull out. "Whether from the incident on Monday or your association with me, Andre made a veiled threat towards you today."

"Andre…" Hermione thought for a second to place the name and cringed, "The man next to Lucius." Minerva nodded and Hermione continued on, "Why were they here? Neither have children attending Hogwarts and despite Slytherin playing…"

"Lucius was my guest today." Minerva interjected drawing the same response from the other occupant as she had earlier today with Filius.

"Your guest?" Hermione's voice rose to resemble Filius' usual cadence. "After everything please tell me you're joking, Minerva."

"If only I were." She quietly stated, wishing she could relay the information she knew Hermione would ask for without breaking her and Lucius' agreement. "But…as I have stated to you many times before, perception, dear."

"What…" Hermione blinked away the thought of her in Malfoy Manor…writhing on the floor and starring up into the gloating eyes of Lucius, and she found herself shaking her head. Knowing that Minerva had to have her reasons, she just wished she could understand. "Or perhaps I should merely ask why Lucius was your guest?"

Sighing, Minerva leaned back into her chair as she pondered the question and how much to breach…and how much to leave, ambiguous. "I…have crafted a unique relationship over the years with Lucius."

Hermione felt her stomach drop, wondering exactly what Minerva meant by a _unique relationship_. "Unique as in…?"

"We have been sharing information for, some time." Minerva partially clarifying.

Hermione tried to keep her tone neutral as she silently berated herself for what she had momentarily entertained, "Information?" She asked while silently wondering why all of a sudden she kept thinking about Minerva and lovers. And she and Lucius…there was no way…

"Neither can stride into the other's house, shall we say, without people noticing."

Hermione absently nodded, "So you meet in public venues or…happen to run into each other at a restaurant?"

"We typically meet at a quidditch match and we never meet in a way that could be construed as anything other than…"

"Hostile."

Minerva's mouth quirked, "I was going to say less than congenial."

"Why the pretense?" Hermione asked, "You're an animagus. Why not just transfigure and meet him within his Manor?"

"I have." Minerva replied, shocking Hermione. "But both his Manor and mine are not optimal to meet as neither of our acquaintances are keen on the others."

"But how..." Hermione outright frowned as she thought back to yesterday, "Surely your conversations are overheard. Why all the trouble? And how do you know you are both sharing information and on the same topic?"

"He needs information as do I. We both have resources and can walk in places the other cannot." Minerva paused at the incredulous look Hermione was starring at her with causing her lips to curl into mischievous smile. "Hermione, you appear as though I have just told you that I had been sorted into Slytherin; come, come, dear. Snap to."

Hermione blinked a few more times, the smile upon Minerva's face widening. "It's just…" Hermione couldn't fathom the notion that Lucius was _helping _Minerva. It didn't make sense. "I…" Why did she trust him? Why give him information? What information was she giving him? "I don't understand."

"Nor would I expect you, nor anyone from the Order too. It is through a precarious set of circumstances that we have struck an accord and have maintained it for the last several years. As for the information sharing, we have devised a system that enables us to communicate with even the most suspecting friends in either of our company." Minerva paused taking a sip, "Today was no different as Lucius had asked Andre, to show me the face of one of Johannes's' supporters, but also, if there would be any questions as to Lucius' involvement in assisting the Order or Ministry, he has a stout witness who can give the information regarding what was discussed."

"And Andre's threat?" Hermione speculating as to why Andre would make an unveiled threat to Minerva of all people.

"He inferred that you would meet the same fate as some of other _careless_ professors who once worked here."

The pot of tea burst apart, liquid splattering across the table, chairs…as Minerva turned her head away from the noise. "How dare he!" Anger lacing Hermione's raw words.

"Easy Hermione." Minerva stated calmly as she returned her gaze, "Your emotional outburst is preciously what Andre wants from you. For you to remain unfocused…"

"Emotional outburst!" Hermione thrust herself upwards, "How can you just sit there!" Her arms opening out, hands moving as her voice rose. "He not only threatened me, but anyone who has worked at Hogwarts!"

"I am aware what he was threatening…" Minerva's composed countenance and quiet lilt did little to cool Hermione's ire.

"Perhaps you forget that less than a week ago, I almost died as did you. And what of Wilhelmina…and the Simmons…"

"Enough!" Minerva thundered, her own anger now barely contained as she stood. The two witches staring at the other as Minerva's clipped voice cut through the scant room. "I will _not_ argue about this matter with you." She took another calming breathe, "My hand still aches from where Filius gripped it yesterday trying to keep me from doing what Andre wanted, to what we are both doing this very moment, reacting. We must be smarter and more patient." She glanced down to the table; her broken cup lay upon the floor from her sudden movement seconds ago. She slowly raised her eyes up to tired, worried brown ones. "I did not tell you to cause more consternation nor unease, but to ensure that you have taken precautions for your family, Hermione. Whether today, tomorrow or six months from now, they will come for you and I fear…they may go after your family too."

Any anger remaining vanished at Minerva's heartfelt words, "Are you sure he would try, especially after making such a statement in public?"

Minerva reached into her robes, drawing her wand out. "Andre is overconfident, Hermione. The wrong man sits in Azkaban where he should currently be."

"If so many people know…"

"It isn't about knowing, Hermione. It's about proving." She flicked her wand, the glass remnants from her cup snapped together and materialized back upon the table. "He made an error yesterday, one in which he made a lackluster attempt to cover by threatening you and linking it to the wizards and witches who have now passed the veil."

" I just…" Hermione took a shuddering breath, "Have to know, why you trust Lucius?"

Minerva turned away, "That is between myself…"

"That's not good enough, Minerva." Hermione said, taking a step closer, resting her hand upon Minerva's arm to stop her as Hermione's voice shook. "After what he did to me…"

Minerva turned back around, eyes narrowed, questioning, brogue lacing her words. "Did to you?"

Hermione felt her chest constrict, she had only ever told Ron and Harry the whole of what had happened. And only those two had known who had been there that night at Malfoy Manor. The fear that had encompassed her as they had taken Harry and Ron away, Bellatrix's voice…

"…_filthy mudblood…"_

Icy blue eyes staring down at her with loathing…as the crucio curse swept through her body…stealing her very breathe.

"Hermione," Minerva felt a wave of concern at her sudden lack of response, and the cadence her voice had taken mere moments before. "When did Lucius do anything to you?"

Apprehension laced Hermione's brown eyes as she swallowed down the bile in the back of her mouth as she forced the words from her lungs. "My seventh year."

At once, Minerva thought back to the year following Albus' death, and just the mere thought caused a wave of fatigue. It had been an excruciatingly long year, for several reasons…between Severus, Hogwarts, the issue with her bonding and living without Albus, her children, the estates…and her frequent jaunts to northern England to check upon Harry, Hermione, and Ronald. She thought back to what she had known happened to Hermione that year, and correlating events with Lucius…and after a few moments, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but I do not know what you are referencing."

Hermione let her hand fall from Minerva's forearm as she turned away, voice fading to a whisper. "He was there the night when we were caught," She strode towards the fireplace, hand resting upon the mantle, as her gaze remained fixed upon the orange and yellow flames. "The night Dobby was killed."

"If memory serves, Harry stated you had been taken to Malfoy Manor." Minerva watched as Hermione gave a solitary nod and she felt herself place a hand upon the back of Hermione's sofa, physically bracing herself for whatever words Hermione spoke.

"Yes…" Hermione's voice now barely loud enough to grace even her own ears. "We were."

"And that was the night Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus curse upon you." Minerva stated, recalling the facts from the Orders files and remembering when Aberforth had contacted her; panic lacing his words…

_"They are at Malfoy's Manor." Aberforth stated, the coals within her fireplace trembling from his agitation. "Minerva…we need…to go and…"_

_ "I cannot, Aberforth." Minerva snapped at her brother-in-law, a string of Gaelic curses fell from her lips, before spinning back to the fire, "I am needed at Hogwarts…"_

_ He was aghast at her response. "You can't…"_

_ "I won't!" She cut his response short, her mind reeling for a solution…and quickly. It was bad enough trying to protect the students within the walls…but even her mighty reserves had been stretched past its capacity trying to protect her children, the Harrison's and Harry, Hermione and Ronald. But tonight…of all nights…she could not go. She had to correct the warding lattice, lest it fall…and she could not conduct it while Severus was about. He may have been chosen by the Board as the Successor…but Hogwarts had not allowed him entry to the bowels of the school…and to its heart. The one that now beat in time with the one within her own chest. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to remain focused upon the task at hand and not upon the faces of her precious Gryffindors. And at once, she called. "Dobby!"_

_ Immediately the house elf was standing before her, "Mistress Minerva." He bowed his head, "What is I do for you this evening?"_

_ Minerva knelt down, gazing into his large glassy eyes. "If you chose not to accept this, I only ask that you not tell a soul."_

_ His large ears flapped up and down, "You is always most kind, Mistress Minerva. What can I do's for you?"  
_

_ "I ask that you go to Malfoy Manor…" She paused as his tiny frame shook, the mere mention of his previous Master's name sending fear through his body. "I know this is asking much, but Harry Potter and his friends have been taken there and I need you to rescue them from the dungeons."_

_ Dobby blinked twice up at Minerva…the rest of his body remaining frozen._

_ The fire sparked, "Minerva, you're as daft as Albus!" Aberforth's voice two octaves higher, "You can't be serious! You are only going to send a house elf…"_

_ Minerva felt her face curl into a frown and with a wave, the face within the flames vanished as her soft voice echoed in her chambers, her gaze returning to his. "Dobby, you do not have to…"_

_ "No…" He swallowed, "I wills go." _

_ Minerva reached up, hand gently wrapping his shoulder, "I know I am asking much, Dobby. But, you know the Manor and will be able to come and go before anyone is aware that you have been there."_

_ Dobby nodded, "You would not ask, if it was not needed, Mistress." He placed his hand upon hers, gently pulling it from his shoulder a kind tender smile within his eyes. "Though, why do you believe I can rescue Harry Potter and his friends? I am but a simple house elf."_

_ Minerva curled her hand around his, "You are far more than a house elf, Dobby." Her tone becoming light, and filling him with hope. "You are his friend." She leaned closer giving him a gentle kiss upon his cheek, "And he needs all of his friends to help him right now."_

"Why do you trust him?" Hermione asked again, a dampening sadness ringing from her tone.

Minerva sighed, knowing that she would need to tell her about him, but also…that Hermione would have to tell her what she was obviously unwilling to divulge. "I will tell you." She quietly conceded, knowing that the outcome from her statement regarding Lucius could and undoubtedly would irrevocably alter their friendship. "But, only after you tell me what he did to you."

Hermione's head whipped around, hair flinging across her shoulder, heart hammering against her ribs as she locked eyes with Minerva…whose emerald eyes were remaining steadfast and unwavering. Hermione forced herself not to break Minerva's piercing gaze. "I do not believe one effectively correlates to the other."

"Though I may know large aspects of your life, you…" She took a single step forward, "Have had to divulge very little these past two months." Minerva's eyes becoming harder, "Trust takes two Hermione."

Hermione felt as though the floor had been taken up from beneath her, "You speak of trust taking two, what in blazes would you and Lucius have in common to build upon?!" She took a step away from the mantle, "Do you _really _think I'm not telling you because I don't trust you?" Her voice now rising, "I haven't told anyone, other than Ron and Harry…" Fists clenched at her sides. "And _only _because they were there!"

"What happened?" Minerva's demeanor remaining calm, and her voice diametrical to that of Hermione's.

"Just please tell me why you trust him so…" Hermione pleaded as she stopped at the opposite of the sofa's back, standing six feet from Minerva.

"You saw the death of my daughter, Hermione." Minerva stated gently, "Know that afterwards my body was badly damaged and for a time, I too sought death." She took a subtle step forward, "There is nothing that could have happened that night that would cause me to think any less of you, but…" She searched Hermione's face, "I need to know what happened. Not to judge, but to understand and…make adjustments if necessary." She glided forward another foot. "So, please, tell me, dear."

"I…" Hermione turned her back to Minerva, facing the fire. "I…" She closed her eyes a tear sliding down. "Do you have a pensive?" She breathed in a quiet whisper, "I don't think I can tell you, but…" She pulled her arms to herself, fingers balling the edge of her robes into the palms of her hands. "I will show you."

Minerva let her hand fall from the edge of the couch and reached up at once, peeling her glasses from her face and pinching the bridge of her nose as she let out a deep sigh. "Are you up for it, tonight?" She asked, holding her head against her hand, not looking up.

Hermione turned her head at Minerva's muttered question, to see the venerable woman with her head bowed into her hand, fingers pinching her nose. "No." Hermione answered honestly, causing Minerva's head to slowly rise, their eyes meeting…the other woman's mouth beginning to formulate a question as Hermione continued on. "Nor will I feel like letting you see it tomorrow…or the day after if truly given the option."

Minerva tightened the muscles along her jaw, her previous question remaining unspoken; as she forced the following words from her throat, "As I once stated, you always have a choice…"

Hermione sighed, "Elgin." She fully turned around, "No, Minerva. I don't."

A soft crack popped between them, and he gazed at the Mistress and then Hermione. "Yes."

"Please go to my office and bring one of the small bottles from next to Albus' pensive in the cabinet behind my desk." He didn't wait for any additional information and was gone at once as Minerva lifted her gaze back to Hermione. "You do."

Hermione watched the firelight dance across Minerva's face…the shadows, the light…the intensity of her gaze no longer hidden behind her glasses, "You _need _to know, and I _need_ you see it." She quietly breathed.

Elgin reappeared, an ornate silver bottle held within his small hands as he placed it upon the table. "If you'se needs…" His voice dying away as he took in the look of the two witches.

"Thank you, Elgin." Minerva absently stated and Elgin immediately left.

Hermione glanced to the bottle and then back to Minerva. "How do I…" She swallowed the dryness from her mouth. "I've never actually withdrawn a memory before."

"Think of the memory, take your wand, touch your temple, draw it out and place it upon the edge of the bottle." Minerva's voice falling into her professor's cadence as she absently folded her glasses and placed them in an undetectable hem along her shoulder, where they vanished from view.

Reaching into her pocket, Hermione drew out her wand…and before she could think about it farther and have even more second thoughts…she placed the tip to her temple and a long silvery substance seemed to be dangling from the end of her wand, which she walked over and placed it upon the lip of the glass. At once it slide down the tube, but as it moved…Hermione could see images of Malfoy's Manor flash from the liquid and her heart lurched. Forlorn eyes, stared at the bottle… "When are you going to watch…this?"

Minerva took a steadying breath, "I'll watch it this evening, unless you'd prefer I didn't."

Hermione picked up the small cap, sealing in her memory. "Just…please…" Hermione took a few hesitant steps forward…hand partially shaking as she stretched it outward, clearing her throat. "Don't discuss this…with anyone."

The cool metal slid into Minerva's hand, "I'll return it tomorrow." She stated quietly as she wrapped her fingers around the bottle.

Hermione gave an absent nod as her hand slowly dropped back to her side, her eyes darting down to Minerva's left hand as she absently nodded.

"Hermione." Minerva took a fractional step forward, hand partially coming up and touching underneath Hermione's chin for a split second. "Look at me." Her quiet brogue pulling Hermione's eyes upwards as Minerva's hand fell away…her emerald eyes full of compassion and understanding.

The pain in her coffee eyes stopping Minerva's breathe, as she heartbreakingly said. "Just no pity."

Minerva's mouth quirked in understanding, a sparkle in her green eyes. "No pity."

A smidgen of pressure released from Hermione's muscles at Minerva's response and nodded. "And Lucius?"

Several long minutes passed as the two women stared at the other, finally…Minerva drawing away, "I don't know what happened to you, Hermione." She stated walking towards the fire, "I can only surmise, that from your…response," She paused taking, formulating a tactful commentary. "That it was unpleasant, and I have no doubt that what I say regarding Lucius…you may or may not understand."

"Minerva, I'm sure…" Hermione went to interrupt, but Minerva's strong voice drowned her out.

"Politics and perception, dear." Minerva twirled the bottle within her hand, the engravings pressing against her fingers, as she turned around. Voice taking on an almost desperate and dangerous edge. "They are a lethal combination and though you may think I am above reproach, I assure you…there was a time when vengeance occupied my every breathe..."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't believe…"

Emerald eyes glinted. "Believe it." She tightened her fingers against the bottle, "After the war and Hogwarts was repaired…for a time, I turned my focus and the entirety of my resources into finding Johannes. That included…supporting Lucius and he in turn assisting me." Hermione's eyes became large as Minerva continued on undeterred, "I needed someone who would be able to walk where I could not, and in turn, I arranged to have his sentence end early and re-open connections for his business. As for trust, Hermione; he had to agree to an unbreakable vow…"

Hermione couldn't stop her sharp intake of breath at Minerva's words; she could never imagine Minerva requiring an unbreakable vow…for her own means…

"One that he will not be free from until either I die or Johannes does."

Hermione was sputtering from Minerva's declaration, mind reeling as she asked, "What was the vow? And…how in Merlin's name did you get him to consent to it?"

Minerva blinked…_seeing a flicker of warmth trail through his cold blue eyes…_

_ "Why have you come here?" Lucius spat, "To gloat…"  
_

_ "No, Mr. Malfoy…" She drew her cloak about her, pulling it up and promptly took a seat at the opposite end of the table, "I did not."_

_ His jaw clenched, face barely containing his rage he felt towards the elder witch. "Then why are you here? To ask for more names…more reparations…"_

_ Minerva cocked her brow at him, taking measure. "To see if you are ready to leave…" Her eyes darted around the dank, dreary world that encompassed Azkaban. "Here."_

_ His pacing paused as he turned to her, the lift of his head, the squaring of his shoulders…despite her feelings toward the man, he knew how to carry himself…evidence of his family's once deep pockets. "I have another ten years…" He shook his head; partially matted blond hair remained unmoving. "Even if you retract yours…Potter's statement along with Granger's…"_

_ Minerva did not wish to hear of those whom she would be hurting, "I am aware of the evidence, Mr. Malfoy." She stated succinctly, "And the sentenced time. However," She brought her hands up, folding them neatly before her on the table as she incrementally pressed her fingers against her other hand. "I am willing to have you declared that your sentence has been served…"_

_ Blue eyes became slits, "Why? What do you want, Headmistress?" He pulled the chair out opposite of her…finally taking a seat._

_ Minerva held up her hand, "Let us dispense with the formalities, Lucius. I come barring an offer…"_

_ His jaw flexed but he shook his head, "I will not…become some Ministry…"_

_ "Nor am I asking you to." She stated, emerald eyes hardening. "But I need information…"_

_ Exasperation lined his voice, "I have already given the Ministry all…"_

_ "About Johannes Harkiss." She finished, caused him to stop and stare at her._

_ "Harkiss?" He asked, the name sounding vaguely familiar._

_ She gave a nod, "Yes."_

_ "I give you what I know, and I go free…" He said disbelieving._

_ "There are a few more caveats than that Lucius." She stated._

_ He pursed his lips in thought, "Why should I…help, you?"_

_ "Because…" Her eyes sparkling despite the dimness of the room, "You do not wish to waste another ten years in here…"_

_ He leaned back, "Not good enough." He stated a smirk lining his face…_

_ "And your estate…?" She asked, a smile trailing to her eyes._

_ "Narcissa has protected it from…"_

_ "The Ministry." Minerva leaned forward, "Not me."_

_ He met her blue eyes with his own and couldn't help the sudden trepidation from seeping into his bones. Minerva McGonagall rarely used her political clout… "You wouldn't…couldn't…"_

_ Her eyes seemed to almost flash red, "Help me Lucius and your life will return to a semblance of what it once was. Don't…" She leaned incrementally forward, "And I will purchase the lot of your businesses…including the muggle ones…breaking the financial back of the Malfoy estate."_

_ "You don't have the resources!" He pushed his chair back, eyes wide at her threat. _

_ She held his gaze for a full minute before leaning back in her chair, arm draping over the back, smile in her voice. "Are you sure?"_

_ Lucius fought for inner calm, and gritting his teeth he nodded. "I know you have a deep family history Minerva, and…are a pureblood…" He shook his head, "But you don't have…there aren't enough…"_

_ Her rich laugh echoed off the dank room as she stood. "Here." She flipped a rolled parchment onto the table. Her walking stick morphed out of thin air, "I'll be back tomorrow…" She tipped her head down to look over the rim of her glasses, "To talk."_

_ He reached for the parchment, wondering what on earth was contained within…and slit the seal._

_ "By the way, Lucius…" She paused as he glanced up, "That only contains a summary of my family assets, not my husband's. And upon review, I believe you'll realize that I do have the resources necessary to break your family name, estate, holdings, business ventures…and whatever else you hold dear and accomplish it prior to breakfast the day after tomorrow."_

_ She waved her hand in front of the door and it opened, she glanced back as he stared at the bottom of the parchment…jaw becoming slack, eyes widening…and before he could say or do anything…the parchment vanished, as did the witch to whom it belonged._

"I left him few options," She whispered as she turned to the fire, head bending in shame for her actions all of those years ago. "As I threatened to liquidate his estate, holdings, businesses…"

Hermione felt her mouth slacken even more and some part of her brought her hand up to cover it as Minerva continued on.

"And ultimately break the financial back of the Malfoy's."

"Surely…" Hermione felt as though she would wake up from this paralyzing moment, but the seconds ticked by…the fire crackled, the candles flickered, the lilt of the wind whirled by the jarred window and she found herself still starring at the ramrod straight back of Minerva McGonagall encased in the shadows of the hearth. "Even you do not have enough influence or money…"

Minerva raised her hand, fingers curling around the lip of the mantle. "I have never wanted, Hermione. Nor has any member of the McGonagall clan." She sighed, slowly turning to face the younger woman. "But once I inherited the family estate and its assets, I slowly began to alter how we conducted our business. Immediately the purchases…holdings…mergers were not significant, but over time, the result was…astounding." The flickering light glinting off her high cheekbones and shining eyes. "To the point that my grandchildren's children…would never have to seek work, nor would yours."

"Then why do you work? Why did you not just leave Hogwarts…to find Johannes? And…" Hermione frowned, "Why didn't you use it against Voldemort?"

"Ahhh…" Minerva sighed, "The first, is because, I enjoy…" Her gaze swept over the room, a smile light upon her lips, "Hogwarts…" A tender expression upon her face, "And teaching. As for Johannes," She paused as if searching for the right string of words, "After Jordan had her second child and Tessa her first…" She let her gaze remain fixed upon Hermione, "And Harry his first…I…began to find balance again."

"Balance?" Hermione inquired.

Minerva nodded, "Life and love versus vengeance and I daresay hatred." Her eyes scanned and rested upon the window panes…tone soft, "And Voldemort…it was part way through your tenure at Hogwarts before our wealth was substantial enough…" She winced thinking back, "And by then, it was too late. Too much of the Ministry had been corrupted, too many officials turned and we gave an inordinate amount of funding to St. Mungos to ensure those who needed help would receive it."

"That's how it was able to expand…"

"And why Helena knows of my financial background." Minerva recalled the heated debate she and her dearest friend had about the size of their contribution…and how it would break her and Albus financially. "We are getting off pace, Hermione." Minerva stated, drawing a curious look from the brown haired woman less than a handful of paces away. "As in short, I threatened and ultimately coerced Lucius." Her jaw clenched as she forced the words from her throat, wanting to get it over with and not drag the horrid deed longer than needed. "When I told him my reason as to why I sought Johannes, he had been rather surprised to learn that I had not only a husband, but children as well. Ultimately, he consented to use his resources to assist me in finding Johannes. I, in turn, supported a handful of business dealings and…"

"Helped him re-establish his presence." Hermione swallowed, feeling hurt by Minerva's words…and numb.

"Yes." She stated taking a moderate step forward, "It was his leads that enabled me to find him for the first time in Madrid and again in London."

"London…you mentioned that previously. When did you…battle here?" She inquired, unable to recall reading about any duels that had taken place over the last several years.

"A long time ago." Minerva stated, "Almost another life it seems."

Hermione stared at her mentor…unsure what to say…what to do… "How long did you seek Johannes?" She finally asked.

"Actively, for three years." Minerva replied, "And then as the years passed, I would still look, but my intensity had waned. And I was content to let it be."

"And then he showed up." Hermione murmured, recalling her words to him from the Alley. _…you should not have come back here, to me of all people._

"He did." Minerva quietly replied, "And continues to threaten those I hold dear."

"I…" Hermione licked her dry lips, "Can't say that I approve, Minerva." She shook her head at the other woman's gaze, "No…" A soft smile curling Hermione's lips as she covered the last five steps between them, hand gently picking up one of Minerva's and ensconcing it within her own. "It's not that I don't approve…it's that, I have not lived your life. Nor would I imagine anyone would willingly _want _to; and I say that because…it is not my place to judge your actions Minerva. I don't know what others have told you, how they feel about…"

Minerva could feel the heat from Hermione's fingers…the smooth skin, "Only Rory knows." She quietly stated, "Not even Helena is aware of my transgressions…"

"You are sure, Lucius will assist you?" Hermione stared down at her hands…eyes gravitating to the long, elegant fingers wrapped around the palm of her hand.

"Quite." Minerva succinctly replied.

Hermione vaguely nodded, "Then I place my trust with yours. But…I don't believe I can…_talk_ with him…"

"Let me watch your memory and we'll talk tomorrow." Minerva stated squeezing Hermione's hand.

"Minerva…" Hermione dropped the other woman's hand, eyes darting up to the pool of emerald staring back at her from less than three feet away.

"Don't…" Minerva gently replied, and leaned in…wrapping her arms around Hermione…

Hermione reaching out…and wrapping her arms around Minerva…

Both women needing to be hugged…

"Enough's been said for one night." Minerva whispered, her words tickling the hairs upon Hermione's neck as the warm breath touched her skin as she pulled away. "Thank you for the company…" Her eyes darted towards the couch, "And the nap."

Both women's arms fell away from the other.

Hermione gave Minerva a tender smile as she pulled her wand from her robes, "When you can't sleep, I'll ask Rose and Hugo to come to your chambers for a sleepover…" Her words caused Minerva to pause while her wand morphed back into her walking stick, "As you would not even need a sleeping draught."

Minerva gave a subtle nod, "Perhaps."

"Please get some sleep tonight, Minerva." Hermione stated, heartfelt. "Despite the substantial hours you have had this weekend, you truly need to rest."

"You too, Hermione." Minerva said with a whisper of a smile. "Thank you again for your hospitality."

"And thank you for watching my children." She replied as Minerva paused in the doorway to her study.

"Always a pleasure." Minerva gave a brief nod to Hermione, "Till the morrow." And whisked through the doorway.

Hermione waited to hear a few words of conversation partaken between Minerva and Godric…but after ten seconds and no sounds…she took the handful of steps to the doorway, "Minerva?"

Only to find the room deserted…scant shadows reflected through the study from the amber glowing coals in the fireplace.

"I wish I could do that." Hermione softly muttered, feeling her stomach already tighten at the notion that tomorrow…Minerva would know what happened at Malfoy Manner…and her tortuous stay.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxo

_A/N: Sorry I haven't been able to post more often, but bare with me through the middle of January and I should be able to start posting weekly again. Hope you enjoyed! Happy Thanksgiving!_


	32. Chapter 30 November 2nd, 2009

**Chapter 31 ~ November 2****nd**** 2009, (Monday)**

Elgin stared at the Mistress, waiting. She had not moved for fifteen minutes since he had first arrived, not even to blink. Her left hand lay atop the window ledge, her right shoulder resting along the window's edge, hair partially remaining in a bun as wisps of hair blew with the soft, cold breeze, eyes peering out into the twilight landscape, a dried tear streak upon her cheek…offset by the rosy hue from the crisp air…barely offset by the waning fire. He had noticed that her glasses were folded and rest next to her left hand…her robes still that of yesterday…and he felt himself clearing his throat, knowing that the Mistress had not slept last night, nor moved from the window for at least several hours.

Elgin shifted his foot, waiting for a semblance of awareness by the Mistress. After another five minutes, he cleared his throat a second time, "Mistress." He stated taking a hesitant step forward. "You'se report." He lifted his tiny arm as he watched with aching slowness, Minerva moved her left hand, blinked…and blinked again as if taking in the surroundings before dropping her gaze as she turned her head, a wince passing her face giving Elgin further credence that the Mistress had not moved for several hours.

"Thank…you." She cleared her throat, voice rough from the hours of lack of use and while breathing in the cold, crisp night air. She reached over, hand immediately finding the glasses, "Anything…" She narrowed her eyes, as she flipped the arm of her glasses open, "Of note?"

"Other than you not sleeping…?" He quipped drawing a stern look from the elder witch.

"We'll assume that would be the general principle, yes." She stated, eyes falling to the parchment, skimming the scant notes.

"No, Mistress." He stated, "You'se be needing anything this morning?"

"Please…" Her eyes drifted to the doorway, "The small bottle next to the pensive sitting in my living room, return that to Hermione this morning." Minerva paused, eyes glancing up over the rim of her glasses, "A small pot of coffee and…" She waited a breath of a second, "I am ordering you _not _to divulge my lack of sleep to Hermione regarding last night."

Elgin opened his mouth...but Minerva's brow rose and he snapped it close.

"Nor can you have anyone give her the information in your stead."

"Mistress…" His ears became droopy, "I am only trying to helps."

"I know Elgin." The sincerity ebbing from her voice, "However, in this instance, it would not be beneficial for Hermione to know that I did not sleep."

His yellow eyes narrowed imperceptibly, his confusion evident. "I does not understand, but I wills listen."

"Thank you, Elgin." Minerva replied, eyes returning to the parchment within her hand. "Will you also go to Poppy and ask for a pepper up potion?"

He nodded, "Of course." And with a last long look at his Mistress, he noticed that her gaze had again lifted from the parchment…eyes already becoming unfocused, and he felt a weight settle in his heart. _For something was weighing heavily upon the Mistress…_and with a soft pop, he was gone hoping that whatever had disturbed her so, she would solve…and quickly too. She already wasn't sleeping.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxox

Hermione reached out, fingers curling around the brass handle…and she willed her body to stop the imperceptible shake that was trembling through her bones as she opened the teacher's entrance to the Great Hall. _I doubt Minerva is even here, _she thought, trying to reassure herself, but as soon as the room came into view, her eyes darting towards one area of the head table…and she felt her shake instantly worsen upon seeing the all too familiar shade of emerald green robes sitting at its center. _Minerva was there…_

Willing herself not to behave differently, Hermione clenched her jaw and entered the Great Hall; the door silently closing behind her. With a forced smile upon her face, she nodded or gave her usual quiet greetings to her colleagues…eyes glimpsing to Minerva as she pulled her chair out, the Headmistress remained engaged in a deep conversation with Pomona; head still tilted the opposite way.

She hadn't known what to expect this morning, when she had awaken to see the bottle with her memory sitting upon her desk in her study. There had been no note…no thoughts upon what Minerva had born witness too, just the bottle; alone…waiting to be found. She had been sure Elgin had delivered it at some point during the night or early morning. She would ask him when he delivered the next set of times to her.

But as she sat down, it became apparent, she shouldn't have expected anything to be different. Minerva was lively and animated in conversation, and even appeared to be enjoying her morning as her quiet chuckle drifted down the table.

"Always a good sign when Minerva's in fine spirits in the morning." Sinistra leaned over, whispering to Hermione as she poured herself a generous cup of coffee.

Hermione feigned a smile, "Yes." She, like the rest of the table, had glanced down the table…as Pomona chuckled in response to Minerva's obvious retort, several of her colleagues had soft smiles on their faces. "It is."

"Perhaps," Sinistra leaned back, "She has some good news to share."

Hermione felt a genuine smile curl upon her lips at Sinistra's comment as she recalled one of Minerva's typical remarks. _Perception, dear._ "Or, she is merely happy that quidditch season has once again, begun." She took two pieces of wheat toast and

placed them on her plate.

Sinistra chuckled at the notion, "Too true."

Hermione began to reach for the apple butter, and peripherally saw emerald eyes glance down the table…and she couldn't help but raise her own eyes, meeting the other woman's steadfast gaze. For a moment, they were cold…reserved…despite her recent bantering; and then Minerva blinked…and the sheer volume of emotion took Hermione's breath away…and before she could move, the other woman had dropped her head…was re-engaged in conversation with Filius…leaving Hermione to stare after her for another minute wondering if she had truly seen what she had…and what in Merlin's beard did it mean?

"And how were your children? They were here this weekend, weren't they?" Sinistra asked as Hermione finally began to gather additional breakfast foods.

"Yes," Hermione absently stated, mind still upon the Headmistress. "They arrived Saturday evening and went to their grandparents last night." The thought of her children, this weekend…and Minerva brought to mind the heartwarming scene she had the pleasure of seeing yesterday afternoon.

"From your smile," Sinistra paused as Hermione's gaze returned to the present, "And you're apparent musing, I'll surmise you had a marvelous time as usual."

Despite the clattering of the morning dishes, the lull of chatter, the thousand students and several dozen professors all ready to begin their week…she felt herself nod in response to Sinistra, not seeing any of the morning's usual activities…rather the way Rose had been snuggled against her shoulder, her head atop Hugo's…arms wrapped around both Rose and Hugo…the relaxed expression, "A bit surprising, but…" She pulled her mind away from the loving scene, "Yes. Quite." She reached out and picked up her coffee, "And did you hear from Evelyn?"

Sinistra's face lit up, "Yes…" Instinctively, she straightened up, expression jubilant. "She and Melvin have set a date for the end of term…"

Hermione nodded…smiled…and engaged in all the right places, her mind on another topic and its entirety. One that had caused her little sleep this past night, caused cold sweats, and her to jerk awake in half a panic…she couldn't help wondering what Minerva had thought about her memory…and if she would truly treat her any differently now she knew the truth of what happened at the Manor that night.

And she found her stomach clenching, another cold sweat running down the back of her neck…at the prospect that Minerva might not believe her capable of going with her…as she wasn't strong enough…hadn't been able to free herself…and Minerva might feel that she would freeze at the notion of being crucio'd…placing both women at risk of being captured…or killed.

She could understand all the aforementioned, see how Minerva would feel that way…and as she swallowed another bite of toast between a warm nod to Sinistra who was gaily talking about her daughter's upcoming wedding; she silently hoped Minerva would not, because…as Sinistra's words droned on, she couldn't imagine waking up tomorrow and only being Minerva's colleague…only being an acquaintance, and not having the opportunity to continue to expand their relationship…and truly become her friend.

Ooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Pomona stepped into her study and felt her shoulders sag before the door had even closed. Her fifth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw class would be starting in just under an hour, and she had hoped it would be enough time to write back Lizza, but as she stepped through into the living room, Filius was already coming through his study…face grime.

"What is it dear?" She asked concerned.

"The Governors have called a special meeting for this afternoon about Hermione…"

"Whatever for?" Pomona frowned at her husband and then she understood, _the articles in the Prophet_, and she was already shaking her head. "You can't be serious."

"Quite." He grumbled, "And Minerva is irate."

"As am I." She replied, "The slander the Prophet is printing about both Hermione and Ronald is preposterous. To think they divorced because of illicit affairs…"

"Yes, well…" He ambled toward his desk, "As unhappy as I am and you are…is nothing compared to how displeased Minerva is." He paused, fingers absently running along the edge of his desk. "And as I have classes this afternoon, I do not believe her ire will have waned by the start of the meeting…"

"Oh dear…" Pomona breathed, knowing that when angry Minerva was extremely difficult at best to deal with, and when furious…it was far better to leave well enough alone. "Who…" She swallowed almost dreading the question and tried again, "Who was foolish enough on the Board to request the meeting?"

"Stanley." Filius stated, grabbing his essays that he was handing back to his Hufflepuff and Slytherin class. "And he has asked for her removal." He waved his wand, the papers shrunk and he slipped them into the pocket of his robes. "Immediately, stating that her personal life is hindering her ability to teach at Hogwarts."

"That is ludicrous." Pomona snapped, "Minerva's ordeal with Harkiss and her duel with him in Diagon Alley has been covered in greater detail and been far more draining upon Hogwarts than the issue with Hermione and Ronald."

"Minerva's words were a little more poignant, but in essence they contained the same information." Filius interrupted. "Add to the fact that she was to meet Lady Deainte from Beaux-batons at 2:00 this afternoon to begin detailing out arrangements for their part of the tri-wizard tournament next year." He sighed, "They've had the meeting set around their respective schedules for over a month."

Pomona involuntarily shuddered, "Ohhh…" She met her husband's forlorn gaze, knowing that Filius would try again to intercede with Minerva before she left to meet the Board of Governors. "I'm so sorry, dear."

He veered towards her, "Not as sorry as I am that I am going to miss the meeting." He paused for a moment, and with a wave of his hands…he was floating just under two feet higher…and gazing down into his wife's loving eyes. "Because, I doubt as much as I will try and calm our esteemed friend," He leaned forward giving her a gentle kiss upon her lips. "I have not seen her wrath this intense in near a decade."

"I don't think we'll be seeing any of the Board of Governors for some time after today." She stated pragmatically.

Filius chuckled…causing him to lean back and drift a few inches from his wife, "No." His laughter rich and badly needed, "I daresay we won't."

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Are you not going, my dear?" Albus asked as the minute hand slide to five after two.

Minerva continued scribbling across the parchment, green ink flowing rapidly across the page. "I gave it serious credence." She tartly replied.

There was a rustle from the Headmasters and Headmistresses knowing that at times dealing with the Board of Governors could be trying. "I don't mean to intrude," Phineas stated drawing several looks, "But to purposely be late, is uncouth…even for me."

"Yes." Minerva swept her hand in an all too familiar way as her name quickly appeared at the end of the note. "But, I thought it pertinent to draw up a few papers in case I won't be coming back."

The room immediately broke into a frenzy of whispers and gasps, Albus' voice the only one ringing outward. "Minerva, surely the Governors summons…"

She stood, the chair jerking backwards. "Is the least of my concerns and has the priority level of band of pixies chasing a Giant."

The portraits stopped moving…talking…breathing at once as she continued on.

"However, their ill timed and pervasive need to dabble in Hogwarts daily business ends today, or you will be greeted by a new Head of Hogwarts." She stopped glancing up at the distinguished gallery lining the room…eyes momentarily stopping at the children's sketch still nestled beneath Severus' picture; a visual representation of Rose and Hugo…along with her.

"Surely Minerva there is another…" Dilys began, but her words stopped at Minerva's unabashed fury.

"As each of you know, I will be dead by this time next term and in all likelihood well before." She turned on her heel and began walking towards the fireplace, "And I have neither the time nor inclination to deal with what amounts to trivial and unfounded minutia." Her hand sunk into the small container of floo powder and she paused glancing up to the wooden framed paintings. "I believe I shall see you all momentarily."

And with a flick…the flames danced green, and she stepped into the fire as the entire chamber of portraits emptied from their frames to their respective areas at the Governors' Manor.

Arthur Weasley frowned at the clock; it was very unlike Minerva to belate, even a minute. He nodded absently to Zachary's comment as his eyes flashed to the clock, it was a quarter past.

"I believe we have waited long enough," Stanley stated drawing several disturbed looks and a handful of nods. "Minerva had ample time…"

"Perhaps she had pressing business…" Alayah began, "We are talking about Hogwarts after all." The elder woman continued, her regal mahogany robes matching her hair. "And Minerva is _never_ late."

A round of affirmations swept the room at this remark, save for three persons; Stanley Shruck being one of them. "Yes, well." The young proprietor cleared his throat, trying to press on, but Arthur stood up, effectively interrupting the younger wizard.

"We are going to wait." He stated plainly retaking his seat, "And once she is present, then _you_ may submit your request before the Governors."

Stanley pursed his lips, obviously debating the notion…when a rustle swept into the room as each of the Headmasters and Headmistress of Hogwarts gathered around the walls.

"The Headmistress will be here momentarily." Severus idly stated.

"I'm sure…" Stanley leaned forward, voice sneering. "She has some type of explanation…"

The doors burst open; her gait quick…measured and without the use of her walking stick as her robes billowed behind her…eyes narrowed, "Yes." Her Scottish brogue thick. "I do." She stated as she drew to a stop at the end of the table, not bothering to pull out her chair. "I was trying to decide how truly daft you are, Stanley."

Arthur felt his breath catch and eyes almost pop out of his head at Minerva's comment, for he…nor anyone else had been prepared for the formidable witch's obvious ire.

"You expect me to sit here whilst you slander a witch whom I hired; who is conducting her classes with utmost care and precision; whose ability in the subject I have not seen capable in another witch or wizard during my entire tenure at Hogwarts; because of a few articles written in the Daily Prophet?" She leaned forward, hands upon the table…eyes almost red with fury, "I had to cancel a meeting with Bella Deainte to listen to you prattle; I have ex-professors living in Hogwarts afraid for their lives because they once taught there; we met last week regarding your financial concerns, in which the McGonagall trust is covering the extra expenses I might add, and again you needed assurances about Hogwarts' safety and the children; then there is the whole situation with Johannes Harkiss who is trying to kill those associated with Hogwarts; and you, Stanley, are concerned about Professor Granger's personal life?" She thrust herself upright, "I immediately request the Board of Governors remove Mr. Shruck and anyone else who sees fit to meddle with the daily affairs of Hogwarts or," She reached into her robes and threw a parchment outward…which it bounced on the ends a few times, rolled…and stopped in front of Arthur Weasley. "I resign, immediately. I haven't time for such twaddle."

For a second…the room remained motionless…as jaws became lax from shock regarding her ultimatum and then all hell broke loose as wizards and witches began yelling back and forth…

Minerva placed her hands back on the table, yelling, "Enough!" The long wooden table burst apart…thousands of pieces flying throughout the room, as she stood. "This…" The parchment was once again within her hand, "Is not open for discussion." Her voice thundered, "Make a choice." She reached forward and handed her resignation to Alayah. "And it had better be made before I walk out those doors." She turned, robes swirling about her.

"Minerva…" Alayah stood as she turned her head back around, eyes meeting the stately woman. "He only wanted to discuss…"

"Futility, Alayah." Minerva crisply replied, "As Professor Granger has done nothing but what she has been asked to do, teach, educate, and protect the children. If there is a question regarding any of the Professors and their performance or their dedication; you do not need new professors, you need a new Head of Hogwarts." And she spun around, gait quickly beginning to take her the length of the room to the double doors. She could hear a rush of voices…and as she placed her hand upon the handle, she heard a distinct voice calling her name.

"Minerva…" Arthur stated, "Wait."

She drew open the large door as she turned back to face them, features the picture of serenity. "Yes?"

Stanley stepped forward, the rest of the Governors moving away, "I meant no disrespect Headmistress…"

"The Prophet has been disrespectful, Mr. Shrunk. Your petulance and willingness to give such tripe credence shows your naiveté and your desire to obtain influence. And with Britain's current state of affairs, I have no time for either."

"I will step off…the Board immediately, Minerva." Stanley swallowed before continuing on, "As Hogwarts cannot function without you at its head."

Minerva's eyes swept across the other fourteen members who comprised the Governors, looking at her expectantly. "Then I shall remain through the end of term this spring, and…" She paused at the obvious rustle from the witches and wizards at the other end of the room. "Or until the threat to Hogwarts has been eliminated and then determine if there is perhaps someone else to take the post."

"As long as you are able, Minerva." Alayah stepped forward, "We would like you to remain at the post."

"There is no one else…"

"You are the best person…"

"Hogwarts best interests…

"Your words are most kind," She interrupted, "But, I may wish to retire. The year has already been long and the rigors…demanding with no apparent sign of slowing down."

"We will compensate…"

Minerva lifted her hand, elegant fingers stretching out. "I have no use for money, William. But I need for you to realize that though I shall stay…I grow weary; from assurances to you, to the Ministry, to the children and…perhaps I wish to spend time with _my_ family. Good day." She stated tiredly and as she turned and strode away, her walking stick jumped into the palm of her hand…the echoes of her clinking gait and stick reverberating down the hall and into the still shell-shocked Governor's chambers.

Hermione watched as a handful of owls swept in through the windows as dinner drew to a close. One landing in front of Filius, another in front of Hagrid and one stopped by her.

A feeling of trepidation swept over Hermione as the last week, wondering if this letter was from a _known _person. As she pulled the parchment from the leather strap, she noticed the familiar wax MM seal and felt her worry dissipate.

"What does Minerva have to say?" Sinistra asked noticing the familiar embossment.

"Probably canceling our meeting this evening," Hermione stated as she slit the seal, "As it is already close to 7 and she has still not returned from her meeting with the Governors."

Sinistra nodded as she placed a second helping of lemon tart onto her plate. "Did Filius tell you what they were meeting about?"

"No." Hermione stated as she unrolled the parchment, eyes quickly scanning the handful of words…a frown curling the corner of her lips as her trepidation immediately returned.

_Hermione,_

_ Training will commence at 7:30pm at the Manor. Filius will cover your charges._

_ Minerva_

_The Manor?_ She rolled the parchment back up, wondering how she was suppose to arrive and if a portkey had been dropped along the way. Her eyes scanned the meal, looking for a button, quill, other unusual knick-knack, but only food, platters and dinnerware that had been there prior to her reading the letter greeted her eyes. Pushing her chair back, Sinistra turned…face questioning.

"I was wrong," Hermione simply stated. "She does want to meet."

Sinistra laid a gentle hand upon her arm, stilling the witch's quick departure. "Then why do you look so forlorn?" She quietly asked.

Hermione forced a smile upon her lips, as she momentarily thought of a cover for her anxiety at seeing Minerva. "It has nothing to do with the Headmistress," She lied continuing on with her deception and the true reason for the sadness now permeating her eyes. "I received a letter from Rose this afternoon and I do miss them terribly." She patted Sinistra's hand, "You needn't worry. Good night."

She rose from her chair and quietly slipped to the left, exiting the Great Hall…a wave of apprehension swelling within her breast mind upon seeing Minerva and what her reaction would be to the memory she had witnessed last eve as she turned the corner and walked into an immoveable object.

"'ello, 'ermione." Hagrid stated, a gentle hand upon Hermione's back to steady her.

"Good evening, Hagrid." She stated, "Sorry, I didn't see you…"

"I was lookin' f'r ya." He stated, "Got a minute ta stop by me hut?"

Hermione frowned, "Actually, I am running a bit late to see the Headmistress." She patted his large forearm, "Perhaps tomorrow."

"It's about her dat I's be needin' to speak wit' ya." He stated solemnly.

Hermione glanced to the left and right, before dragging him towards the front doors. "Is she alright?"

"Aye, nothin' ta do wit' her health." He opened one of the large doors, both striding through into the crisp night air and Hermione fought off a shiver as they walked across the flagstone steps and towards Hagrid's Hut.

"Is it regarding her meeting this afternoon?" She asked concerned that something had indeed happened to the Headmistress. Filius had been perplexed earlier when Minerva had not returned from the Governors meeting before dinner.

Hagrid shook his head, "Almost there." He nodded to his small house, the steady stream of smoke billowing upwards into the night air.

Hermione quietly followed the last five minutes, wondering what in Merlin's name Hagrid had to tell him about Minerva. And why he didn't want to talk about it in the open? He had said that it wasn't pertaining to her health…but what else could it be? Was she kidnapped? No, she immediately answered, Hagrid would not be this calm…

Hagrid opened the door to his hut and a grey muzzled Fang wagged his tail from the corner, not even bothering to get up and say hello in greeting. "Da door, 'ermione."

At once she closed it, and at his nod, she cast a silencing charm upon the small domain. "Hagrid what is…"

He reached into his pocket and pulled a rolled parchment from its depths. "Here."

Hermione frowned as she took the paper; her eyes noticing the all too familiar emerald green wax as she un-furloughed the document.

_Hagrid,_

_ Please speak with Hermione regarding the Manor prior to 7:30 this evening._

_ Minerva_

Hermione read the note, twice. What did she mean…she glanced up to Hagrid who was looking at her expectantly. "I don't…" She dropped her gaze to the paper a third time. "Speak to me regarding the Manor?" Her confusion evident in her voice.

"And it's location." He stated, mirth lining his eyes as she suddenly realized _why_ she was here.

"You're her secret keeper?!" She exclaimed, feeling shock and awed at Minerva's choice.

"You'll be needin' th's." He stated, handing her another piece of paper.

Hermione automatically accepted the paper, her mind still dumbfounded that Hagrid…was Minerva's secret keeper. Who would ever believe that the half giant was Minerva's secret keeper? A man who could barely perform the simplest of spells…

"Da Manor sits along the loch…"

As soon as his words echoed across the room, her eyes dropped and skimmed the location of the Manor in Minerva's elegant script and if she focused, she could almost hear her lilt describing where her ancestral home sat. _…the eastern loch sixty miles to the south of Edinburgh…_

_oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox _

Minerva let her gaze draw back to the scene she was just leaving. "Thank you for the great honor you have bestowed upon me." She quietly stated as her eyes narrowed, still able to see flickers of the gildings as they darted around the glade between the fires.

Tenian laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder; "It is we who are forever in your debt, Minerva."

"The safety of your children is all the thanks I shall ever need." She quietly replied as they stepped over the knoll and away from the heart of the centaur encampment.

"And we thank you for returning us Ryklar's body." He stated, "Though…" He drew to a stop, "I must inquire, was he alive when you found him?"

Minerva drew to an unsteady stop beside the elder centaur, "Yes. Barely." She knew that they disliked 'wand' magic and was unsure how they would react to Helena's healing efforts and her…leglimency spell. "A childhood friend, Helena Harrison who is a distinguished healer tried to save him."

"Which we are most thankful, but…" He shook his head, the moonlight glinting off his silver mane. "We have no reason to question your actions, _ever again._ I know you had his best interests within your heart, I ask…" He gazed to the stars, "Merely to know if he had an opportunity to speak with anyone before he passed the veil." His voice became deeper, laced with emotion. "He was my son."

"I…" Minerva had not wished to share the moments she had been connected to Ryklar with anyone, but she found herself relaying the events…her soft voice having a distinct lilt buried within. They stood there…side by side for several minutes once she finished, both unmoving.

Finally Tenian turned his head to the side, "Do you believe his words?"

Slowly, Minerva pulled her gaze from the heavens to that of Tenian. "I have never put much stock in divination."

A gentle smile spread across the elder centaur's face. "Frienze was right about you." At her quirked expression, he continued on…mirth now lining his voice. "As was Ryklar. Both said you put little weight in the movement of the heavens."

Minerva returned her gaze to the stars, the chill of the air beginning to seep into her bones as she sought a diplomatic answer to his statement. "I have never seen the correlation between the heavens' movements and my life."

At this Tenian leaned back, laughter rich as it echoed into the dark night sky. "You are a refreshing person, Minerva McGonagall to speak with." Tendrils of laughter still within his voice. "I have rarely seen a centaur or human with less self importance than you proclaim." He turned to the heavens, "You…" He reached over, guiding her eyes to a dulling star beginning to rise. "Though, are far from unimportant."

Minerva waited for a moment, before asking a question that had remained with her this past week. "Who did Ryklar mean when he said Jupiter had fallen? I have given it considerable thought, and if he means Albus…there is…far more than one can believe possible as he remains here." She reached to her chest, placing her hand upon it. "And…" She pulled her arms out, "Here too."

"Yes." Tenian stated, "He does…but…" He pointed to the sky, "Only Jupiter's light remains with us." Indicating an imperceptible light next to Venus. "As it has fallen from view, leaving a mighty shadow amidst it departure with tendrils of light spilling forward as it slowly falls away."

Minerva blinked back her tears, at how uncanny his statement was regarding Albus…the man who was no longer there, but presence…was much like the light…still there; but his shadow…his absence was profound and was causing a gaping hole within her heart and soul. "And…" She cleared her throat, trying to understand the reference. "How am I to stop my descent?"

Tenien shook his head, "I know not." His voice clear but troubled, "The stars have been clouded for three weeks prior to Ryklar's death. But…" He turned, fully facing her. "If he stated there was a way to stop your descent, then you must or darkness will befall."

Minerva sighed, pulling her gaze from the heavens. "How am I to stop the hands of death?"

"By living." He succinctly replied.

She sighed, a smile upon her face. "And you wonder why I don't like divination."

Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxo

Hermione stood…starring, wide-eyed for several minutes at the iron gates, the glow of the lights…the manicured lawns, the bare trees, empty flower beds…and she found herself wondering what it would be like to grow up here. To think of home…and having the fabled lawns…the large home…never having to worry about incidental magic…nor your neighbors.

Reaching out her hand, she placed it upon the gate…and it remained fixed. She frowned, her hand wrapping around the iron once more jiggling the gate. It did not move.

Suddenly a pop resounded next to the gate, and on the inside was the small, stately house elf. "Good evening, Bonnie." Hermione stated.

Bonnie glanced up, a smile lighting her face. "Miss Hermione." She stated, "Mistress will be here momentarily."

Hermione narrowed her brows at Bonnie, "Can you not let me in?"

Bonnie glanced at the gate and then to Hermione. "She's asked me to have you wait."

Hermione fought off her annoyance and her own foolishness for not grabbing her outer cloak after leaving Hagrid's. She had merely come straight here, and she had not planned on having to wait for several minutes, unmoving…outside. She wrapped her arms around her chest, "Very well."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes, noticing that the young witch had not brought a cloak. "One moment." She stated and with a pop was gone, leaving a rapidly shivering Hermione to wonder where the little elf had disappeared to.

Idly she rubbed her arms, trying to keep them warm as she turned around…looking not toward the Manor, but what the Manor viewed. To the north of the gates appeared a long winding road that was obscured by darkness. _So much for looking around, _she thought.

"Here's." Bonnie stated handing Hermione a thick cloak.

Hermione turned, glancing down at the proffered article. "Where did you…?" Her hand went around the heavy, silk cloak.

"It was Master Derrick's." Bonnie simply stated, "And I cannot have you freeze before the Mistress arrives."

"Thank you." She stated, swinging it over her arms and as she began to look for the clasp stopped as Bonnie motioned for her kneel forward.

"They's don't use standard robes, Miss Hermione." She reached forward, long nimble fingers drawing the seams together and touching them…and Hermione watched as it disappeared and the cloak was now fastened.

Immediately, Hermione could feel a difference. The crisp wind had vanished, a warmth seemed to surround her body… "You are a most thoughtful elf, Bonnie." She stated, leaning over and giving the elder elf a gentle kiss on her dainty cheek. "Thank you." She finished standing.

Bonnie reached upward, hand brushing where the witch had kissed her. Her ears falling backwards, "It fits you quite well."

Hermione glanced down, the long black silken cloak draping across her form. "Were Derrick and Minerva a lot alike?"

Bonnie smiled at the query, "Yes and no. Though, they both found peace after Master Meric, Mistress Katherine and young Mister Callum's death. And yet at times…" She seemed to pause, careful to choose her words. "The past does seem to trouble the Mistress."

A hint of lavender swept over Hermione's senses…and she turned expecting to see Minerva, a smile already upon her face…but only shadows greeted her eyes. And as another hint tickled her senses, she realized that it was coming from her…or rather the cloak Bonnie had brought and she found herself pulling it tighter to her. "How long have you been with the McGonagall family?"

Bonnie straightened her back, standing proud as she spoke. "I's been here since the year 1889."

Hermione blinked, she had never known how old house elf's lived to be, but surely 120 years old… "You'll be 120 this year?"

Bonnie nodded but the smile faded from her face at the notion that this year would be the last one she would be serving the Mistress. "Just last month." She replied.

Hermione noticed the immediate change within Bonnie, "Did I say…"

Bonnie shook her head, "No's…just thinking…" She smiled up at Hermione. "Seen many McGonagall's."

"Yes." Minerva's voice ringing from out of the darkness, "You have, dear." Both heads turned to the Manor, looking for the woman whose familiar voice had broke their conversation and after a few seconds, the elegant woman drew into the light. Rosy cheeks colored her high cheekbones, as a thin cloak billowed behind her usual emerald gowns…tendrils of hair swirling with the wind… Hermione couldn't help but notice how much Minerva _fit_ here. The stately Manor…her regal appearance…it was no wonder the woman was born into the McGonagall family.

"Minerva." Hermione stated as Minerva stopped a few feet from the gates. "I came a bit early."

Minerva's eyes swept over Hermione's form, immediately noticing Derrick's cloak…the way it fell from her shoulders...sweeping across her body and she gave a nod, "The cloak is very becoming." She turned to Bonnie, "Wise choice." Bonnie gave a low nod.

"Will you be eating your dinner?" Bonnie asked as she raised her head back upward.

Minerva ignored Hermione's perplexed look, "If you would be so kind as to keep it warm. We have some business…"

Hermione backed away from the gates, "It can wait, Minerva. You need to eat."

Both the witch and house elf turned to Hermione, as Minerva interjected. "I intend to after _we_ are finished." She turned back to Bonnie, "We will be returning to the Manor momentarily."

Bonnie gave a brief nod and then vanished leaving the two witches alone…the rod iron gates separating them.

"My training isn't _that _important…" Hermione began, but silenced as the gate sprung and it creaked open.

"It is." Minerva stated stepping out from the Manor's lawns, hand held up. "As is my dinner, which I assure you I will be eating shortly."

Hermione frowned, "Filius said the Governors' meeting ended hours ago and if you haven't eaten…"

Minerva sighed, "Good evening, Hermione." She said trying again, stepping in front of the other woman. "I'm sorry for keeping you, but I took the necessary time to walk the northern boundary with Rory and on my way back through, stop and see the centaurs."

Realization flashed across Hermione's face, "How are they?" She asked, breathe soft in the still air.

"Adjusting quite well." Minerva stated, "As for any additional questions…" She reached into her robes, "I would prefer they wait until we are within the Manor." Her fingers pulled a thin knife out along with her wand, "As I wore a thin cloak to the Ministry and…it is unsuited to the chill of the night air."

Hermione nodded, eyes fixed upon the knife. "Bonnie was kind enough to bring me this as I…" She glanced up to Minerva's face, "Had not worn a cloak this evening and she did not want me to freeze to death prior to your arrival."

A genuine smile broke across Minerva's face. "I am glad she had the foresight to bring you a cloak. I do not believe either one of us wish to frequent St. Mungos this evening."

Brown hair brushed Hermione's shoulders as she shook her head, "No, I daresay, not."

"Now, as to why I didn't have Bonnie grant you entry."

"I would have thought she has the ability to open the gates…" Hermione began.

"She does, but…" Minerva waved her wand at the gates, "I need you to have access to the Manor and the property."

Hermione felt her breath hitch as Minerva turned her full attention to the Manor as she waved her wand in a series of complex patterns a low hum beginning to settle upon the land. "I don't see…the necessity." She swallowed hard, "I mean, Bonnie or you or…"

"Might not be here." Minerva obliquely replied, jaw tightening as she felt her magic pulling through her as she summoned the warding structure…mentally picturing the latticework…

"Of course you will be here." Hermione rasped.

Minerva tightened her fingers hoping to hold her grip upon her wand as her hand went numb.

Hermione felt her eyes widen as Minerva's wand hand began to glow from within…and she realized that the day at the Ministry, she had not been seeing things as Minerva's eyes closed… "Minerva," She gazed at the elder woman's hand, "Your…hand."

Minerva felt her jaw constrict, along with breathing…the wards were not recognizing her magic as Hogwarts' magic mixed with her own…and she reached deeper…drawing upon her reserves…and the effect was immediate, the lattice work spindling apart…

With a deep breath, Minerva lowered her wand arm and took a step forward, and with one deft move, she drew the knife across her left palm. She could already feel the blood dripping from her hand as she placed it upon the iron gates. "I apologize, but the family wards are old, blood wards." She stated, turning to a gaping Hermione. "To grant you access, I will need your hand, please."

Hermione blinked, staring at Minerva…and automatically handed Minerva her hand stepping closer. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Minerva tiredly stated, drawing the knife outward. "This will sting." She said before the tip of the blade sliced down the palm of Hermione's hand.

Hermione winced but otherwise didn't move as Minerva gazed at the open wound. "Please place your hand upon the gate…and do not remove it until I am finished with the incantation."

"Are you sure you are up to conducting the warding?" Hermione asked, pausing momentarily before grasping the gate.

"Just a bit tired." Minerva replied giving her a brief nod.

Hermione reached forward, grasping the iron gate…and felt magic tickle across her hand…as Minerva raised her wand upwards. She turned to look at the other woman, her face a picture of concentration as she moved her wand, flicked her wrist…words softly eschewing from her lips and after several minutes…her hand began to glow again…

Minerva felt the McGonagall wards begin to reseal…

Hermione felt a burn begin within her fingers…

Fatigue coursed through Minerva, her legs shaking as a trail of sweat ran down her cheek…

Spiraling up into her arm…

As her legs gave way…

"Minerva!" Hermione went to leave, but her hand remained affixed to the gate, and was unable to move…

Minerva felt her knees sinking into the earth as the latticework sealed, her wand falling from her numb, stiff fingers. "I'm fine." She breathed out, eyes opening to see her slightly burnt fingers. _Great, _she thought grasping her wand with her left hand, the blood spilling on to the dark wood.

"Here." Hermione reached down, right hand wrapping around Minerva's arm. "Let me help…you up." She stated as Minerva pressed herself upwards.

Minerva stumbled. "Hold." She closed her eyes upon standing. "For but a moment." She whispered discreetly tucking her right hand within her robes.

"Are you sure your alright?" Hermione asked as she gazed at Minerva's pale face.

"Quite." She replied, "The latticework of the wards is as complex here as Hogwarts but far more compact." She opened her eyes, staring into the concerned brown ones. "And it has been several years since I have initiated someone into the wards. I must remember to do it at the beginning of the day." She said motioning forward.

"I doubt it will be any less taxing." Hermione stated, her hand still resting upon Minerva's arm.

"Perhaps," Minerva replied as they stepped through the gates. "As for the Manor. You may now come and go onto the property."

"Minerva…" Hermione drew to a stop, the dark cloak billowing behind her. "Why…" She shook her head, "Why now?"

Minerva paused, turning to the other woman. "I will not always be here…"

Hermione began to interrupt, but Minerva gave a subtle nod.

"And if I or Rory am unavailable and the centaurs have need; you will need to enter the property." Green eyes measured brown ones, "I have no idea what the next several months will bring, but I know that _you _will be here as long as you are able. And I need for someone other than myself to know the details and have the access that is needed to continue the fight." Minerva gave her a reassuring smile, "Come." She turned to the Manor, "Let us discuss this over a cool drink and a warm room."

Hermione nodded and the two women began to walk again, and it wasn't until they reached the door that Minerva absently reached out with her right hand and heard a gasp.

"Your fingers…" Hermione murmured as her eyes noticed the blackened tips of Minerva's fingers. "Did that…" She reached out taking Minerva's hand within her own as the door opened and shafts of light spilled out from the inside of the Manor combining with the effervescent glow of the light upon the grounds. "Happen during the warding?"

Minerva forced her gaze to remain steadfast, "It is fine, Hermione."

"Minerva…" Her light touch barely grazing her burnt flesh. "These look like magical burns…" Noting that her long fingers were charcoaled…

"I am aware." Minerva succinctly stated, drawing chocolate eyes to her own.

"Then you have had this happen before?" Hermione asked disbelieving.

"Yes." She calmly replied. "It will heal by the morning."

"Minerva…" Hermione began, but Minerva merely gave her a soft smile.

"There are some things Hermione," She slowly removed her hand from Hermione's. "That I told you, I would not divulge. Kindly," Her voice sounding tired, "Leave this one be."

Hermione met Minerva's warm gaze, "I meant no disrespect…" Her eyes flashed down to her hand, "Only concern."

"I know." She opened her arm. "Come." She stepped into foyer, with deft strokes her cloak was upon the peg within a moment, and she curtailed a smile as Hermione fiddled with the cloak still upon her shoulders.

"How do you…" Hermione ran her finger along where she knew the seam to be, she pulled at the fabric and it remained fastened. "Take this off?"

Minerva could no longer hide her smile, "Here." She reached up…right hand moderately stiff, and at Hermione's pinched expression she sighed. "My apologies for my hand."

"No." Hermione stated, reaching up and gently ensconcing Minerva's hand with her own. "It just looks so…stiff and painful." She said before letting her hand slip away as their gazes locked.

Minerva did not trust herself to hold Hermione's gaze for long, such caring, warm eyes. "It is simple." She stated, voice growing thick, "A wonderful design by Sebastian Pierre, he owns a small boutique in Nantes, France."

"Nantes?" Hermione questioned, "I thought Madame Malkins designed all of your clothes."

Minerva smiled, "No." She drew her finger up the fabric, "Here. Tap thrice with your wand hand, and it activates the seam line. Draw it up to close, down to open." Minerva did as she instructed and stepped away as the fabric split open.

Hermione glanced at the cloak, a smile lighting her eyes. "Wonderful." She repeated the process and drew the fabric close, and then reopened it. "Does Madame Malkins have anything similar?"

"Yes." Minerva stated, "I brought her the design years ago, but asked her to refrain from marketing it for five years to the public."

"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked, slipping the cloak onto the hooks.

"Shortly after Grindlewald's fall." Minerva stated.

"And do you still frequent the shop in Nantes?" Hermione questioned as they began to walk down the hallway.

"Amongst others." Minerva casually replied. "As I have a tendency to destroy robes, cloaks, hats and other articles of clothing." She paused at the drawing room, the door springing open. "Here." She stepped inside and with a wave, the knife reappeared which she set upon the table as she entered. "Let us heal the cuts upon our hands."

"Do you have anything for your right hand too?" Hermione questioned as Minerva pulled the small case onto the sofa as she sat down.

"I shall apply an ointment." Minerva stated as she pulled a brown bottle out, "Here." She handed it to the other woman.

Hermione gently took the bottle, eyes noting how burnt Minerva's hand was and willed herself to refrain from asking any questions…but as Minerva pulled out another small bottle…Hermione could no longer help it. "Here." She paused her own ministrations upon her hand and took the bottle from Minerva. "Please." She sat next to Minerva. "Allow me."

Minerva didn't move as Hermione unscrewed the cap…tipping her head away, unable to see the kindness starring up at her. It had been too long since such caring eyes had gazed into her own…too long since someone, other than Helena and Rory, had cared for her… She could hear the cap come off the top as the fire crackled.

Hermione placed a thick amount of ointment onto her fingers, "I won't ask the cause, Minerva." She whispered as she pulled Minerva's hand onto her lap and let her fingers gently touch the back of the other woman's charred flesh. "I only wish to know if this happens often when you perform magic." She reached over, placing more ointment upon her fingers, "If you wish not to tell me, I will respect that."

Minerva swallowed still unable to meet Hermione's gaze, and as the seconds drew longer…Minerva found that it was difficult not to answer the question. The frankness of the past six weeks that had been a foundation of their friendship, she had told Hermione so much…had begun to let the woman into her life…and she found the need to keep a wall around part of her world and her life, unsettling. And she found that though she would not answer the question in whole, she would at least answer it in part… "The more magic I utilize, the greater likelihood that…" She finally turned her head back to Hermione and the burnt hand resting upon the midnight blue robes. "My hand or at times, hands become severely burnt."

Hermione found herself at loss for words at Minerva's directness and also in the way she seemed…ashamed at what she had to say. "Minerva…how long have…" She didn't want to push, but she found herself unable not to ask, "You been dealing with…after the Simmons? Or…"

Minerva flexed her hand, feeling the tightness lessen. "For quite some time." She picked her hand up, "Thank you." She reached into the bag, pulling another bottle out and with a subtle wave, banished the lid. "Your hand." She nodded to Hermione.

"The bleeding's stopped." Hermione replied.

Minerva's lips curled into a frown as she pulled the other woman's hand forward. Hermione was accurate, the cut had coagulated, but it remained angry, red, raw…much like her own cut. She did not have enough potion for two doses, and she did not want to have Hermione's hand become infected nor have to hear about her own. Without thought, she poured some of the liquid into her left hand, cupping her palm, enabling it to pool within her hand…and she sighed as she brought Hermione's hand atop her own.

Hermione felt the cool liquid strike her hand, and she tried to pull her hand free…but Minerva's left hand curled around Hermione's. At once she jerked trying to free it, her eyes jerking upwards to Minerva.

"Hold…" Minerva murmured…feeling the heat within the palms grow…the knitting of the skin and she turned Hermione's hand over…and withdrew her own. "Sit quietly for a few minutes. The last of the potion will absorb and your skin will be unblemished."

Hermione watched as Minerva stood, "And what of your hand?"

Minerva stopped and opened her palm for Hermione to see. The cut had been healed over, a scab resting within her palm. "It will do until I return to Hogwarts. After it is healed, please feel free to join me in the dining room. I am going to have a spot of dinner."

Emerald robes flowed from the room, leaving the younger woman to watch her retreating figure, wondering what in Merlin's name happened to Minerva that for her to use magic would cause severe magical burns upon her hands. And how had she been able to keep it from the wizarding world?

Hermione paused at the edge of the door. "Are you sure, Minerva?" She asked hesitantly, she had joined Minerva less than ten minutes ago in the dining room. Minerva had eaten another handful of bites and swallowed the last of her glass of wine before asking Hermione to join her in the dance room. She had half expected the room to still be in disarray, but the blemishes upon the floor and walls had been repaired…and looked as brilliant as the first time she had stepped into the room.

"I am fine for this part of your exercise." Minerva stated, stopping as she drew her walking stick into her wand.

"What…exactly am I going to be working on?" Hermione questioned as her clipped steps resonated off the wood floor.

"Due to some…" Minerva paused and she grit the words from her throat, "Recent information, in addition to last week's battle, I thought it prudent for you to learn how to…" She swallowed hard, forcing the grueling screams that had filled her mind's eye for the better part of the night into the far recesses of her mind. "Combat the crucio curse."

Hermione felt her heart stop. "What?" She barely breathed out.

"I cannot change what has happened, Hermione." She quietly stated, bringing up the horrid memory. "Nor can I alter how my role may have made that pain worse."

"Minerva, you mustn't think…"

"There are some truths, Hermione, that albeit difficult, do not make them any less accurate."

"You did not cast the curses…"

Minerva shook her head, "No, but I did arrange for a series of events that caused his early release."

"Which may ultimately save the wizarding world." Hermione breathlessly stated.

"True. But…the effect was difficult for you and you have my sincerest apologies."

Hermione stared at the proud woman, the words tumbling from her lips without thought or effort as she spoke from her heart. "You did not cast the curses, nor were they your taunting words spat in my ear, nor did you vow to give me to Fenrick after Bellatrix broke my mind so he could break my body for as a mudblood, it was too foul to be touched by that of a pureblood. No…Minerva…if anything, you…have been nothing short of a beacon of light, holding hope as though a candle amongst the night. I cannot imagine the decisions you have made throughout your life, and the consequences that you have born from those decisions. And though you made, what you deemed, a selfish decision all those years ago, I cannot fault you for what you once did. You…have given not only me…but the entire wizarding world, so much…never asking anything in return."

"And Lucius?" Minerva quietly questioned.

"A man whom I loathe and who loathes me; but has consented to assist you."

Minerva silently marveled at the woman fifty feet away…her verve…strength…and how incredibly brave she was that she had never let her experience at Malfoy Manor tarnish her life, nor alter her personality. She had found a way to move past it…and not stay forever fixed upon that singular moment in time. "I will handle all of the interactions regarding Lucius and…" Their eyes locked, an understanding passing…a balance reached through a deep accord of friendship. "As far as the past…as I said, I cannot change…" She held up her hand to stay any commentary, "But I can correct the future as I can teach you how to combat both the cruciatus and imperius curses."

"I didn't know you could defend against the cruciatus; as Harry only told me what to do to stop the imperius." Hermione remarked.

"The Auror department stopped training against it after Grindlewald fell." She commented, "As to stymie the cruciatus curse, one has to practice against it…and we lost some very talented wizards and witches to trainers who…could no longer control their desire to inflict pain."

"Why was it stopped?"

"It was very rigorous…" Minerva thought back to the long nights, the ripping pain…how her muscles seemed to spasm for hours after she would finish… "And the trainers began to enjoy the control. The Ministry began interchanging trainers, but…the effect was the same. Now, you are comfortable with how to stop the imperius curse?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know about comfortable, but…I believe I could counter the effects."

Minerva nodded, "Then let us focus on the cruciatus, if you are willing."

"So…I will have to be struck by the cruciatus…" She swallowed, "More than once…"

"No." Minerva replied, "I am going to teach you the counter-spell, which you _must _be able to state non-verbally…and have strong enough magical core to do without a wand. I will not have you practice…"

"I want you to." Hermione softly stated, causing a surprised look to pass across Minerva's face. "I want _you _to…" She reiterated, voice becoming harder. "I need for both you and I…" She took a step closer to Minerva, "Mostly me, to be able to move past it. And you to feel comfortable that I will be able to handle myself."

Minerva felt her mouth dry, and her chest break apart at the notion of casting an unforgivable curse upon Hermione, willingly. "I…" She took a staggering breath, but found her resolve upon meeting Hermione's stalwart gaze. "Will only consent to a handful of times, Hermione as it is difficult to do."

Hermione nodded despite the hammering in her chest and her dry lips. "Perhaps…" She walked toward the table, "A drink while you explain the counter-curse."

Minerva joined her at the small table, whisky already within her hand as she cracked the seal; Hermione placing cubes of ice within the tumblers. "I'm sure we will finish the bottle." She stated pouring both a steep drink, before handing Hermione one of the two glasses. "The counter-curse is; _Liberio_."

"Libero." Hermione stated pulling the glass from her lips.

Minerva shook her head, "L. I. B. E. R. I. O." She licked her lips and stated it again, "Liberio."

"Liberio." Hermione frowned, "Is the accent on the e or the i?"

"The syllable is the b and the accent on the i." Minerva twirled the liquid within her hand. "Now." She took the three swallows necessary to finish her drink and she winced as she finished the last of her glass, setting it down upon the table…momentarily dreading what she was about to do. She needed Hermione to _see _the spell…and she took her wand out…and with a momentary almost wistful glance at it…set it upon the table and began walking away from Hermione. "I need you to cast the cruciatus spell upon me."

Hermione spewed her drink from her mouth, "What?" She said turning Minerva who was striding away. "I thought you…I can't."

"You…" Minerva turned to her, "Have to understand, Hermione."

"I do." She stated, appalled. "I know what the cruciatus does! I don't need to see you writhing on the floor to know what the damn spell does!"

"I am talking about the counter-curse, Hermione." Minerva calmly replied. "You need to comprehend that this…is not as simple the counter spell to a transfiguration incantation."

"Definitely not." Hermione stated, shaking her head. "I will not cast the cruciatus curse upon you or anyone else for that matter."

Minerva sighed, "Then I cannot teach you the counter-curse."

Hermione opened her mouth to rebuke Minerva's statement, but…there were no words. She knew that Minerva would not ask her to do something that was unnecessary, but as she raised her eyes to the other woman, she felt her stomach clench and found herself staring through tears. "I don't think I can…" She said, voice breaking.

"You can." Minerva stated, "Take the rage you felt toward Lucius…" Minerva clenched her fingers into a fist, "And still do…and direct it towards me."

Hermione found herself shaking her head, "Minerva…don't make…me." She breathed out. "I was wrong, it isn't worth…this."

"I will not die, Hermione." Minerva's tranquil exterior bringing a strange peace to the room. "And you are wrong. It _is _worth this. As…you do not need to feel paralyzed about what one spell could do, or how you will react if faced with a situation that may cause you to be struck by the cruciatus curse."

A tear slipped from Hermione's left eye as she raised her wand, "I…" Her hand fell away… "No."

Minerva focused…and pictured Lucius' face…eyes…long blond hair…and thought for another long second about the clothes…how the silken black robes absorbed the light…and she forced her body to transfigure…her clothes to mold…she could feel her hand burn…a tear wanting to escape, but she steeled her face…voice turning cold, laced with ice. "You filthy mudblood!" She snapped…Lucius' voice ringing across the air.

Hermione blinked and there stood Lucius…and his voice…and without thought, her wand was in her hand and the curse was stumbling from her lips, "Crucio!"

Minerva felt the jet of warm yellow light strike her abdomen, the air ripped from her lungs as every nerve caught fire…her knees buckling…mind shattering…as the sheer amount of hate pouring through the spell stilled her heart. Minerva could feel a gasp coming from her throat as spasms rippled along her spine…blood forming in her mouth as she sank her teeth into her lip…bringing a moment of clarity to her mind…enabling the formation of a word…and with practiced ease…the word slipped unbidden through her mind…

_ Liberio…_

Hermione watched as his blond hair fell across his face…back jolting in spasms…blood dribbling down his cheek…and then he fell motionless… Hermione took a step forward, and before she could react, her wand was springing out of her hand…and into his…blue eyes morphing into green…as the blond locks became dark…and Hermione fell to her knees as Minerva fell to her side.

"Oh…my God…Minerva…" She breathed out…tears in her eyes as she scrambled over to the elder witch. "That was…"

"I think…we're done for tonight." She tiredly breathed, the world spinning…as Hermione slowly came into view…her head resting upon the wood floor as her burnt fingers unclenched.

"Oh…Minerva." She noticed the blood dripping from her lip. "I thought…how did you transfigure…I saw Lucius and I just reacted…I'm so sorry." She whispered brushing a lock of ebony hair from Minerva's face…Hermione noticed that it was rather gaunt, not at all like it had been earlier. And she realized that Minerva was still casting Glamour charms.

"You needed to see." Minerva adjusted her weight, "And, I will be fine." She relaxed and laid upon her back, "I just require a few minutes…" She breathed deeply, relishing the feeling of air rushing into her lungs. "Though, I must say…" She quirked her eye to Hermione, "You do not like Lucius."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, "No. I do not." She drew her legs into a sitting position, eyes roving over the witch…who for the moment was without a Glamour. She had lost weight. Her robes hung slightly more upon her already thin frame…the circles beneath her eyes were as dark or darker than they were on Saturday despite the sleep she had gotten over the weekend…and her hands…dear Merlin…her right hand had been burnt before, but she noticed that her left hand was now as bad as her right had been and she shuddered to stand and glance to see Minerva's wand hand. "How did you transfigure into Lucius?"

"I've…" Minerva took another steadying breath, "Been practicing transfiguration for over seven decades. Call it a hobby of mine…" She swallowed, tasting the blood from her lip.

"I thought you could only transfigure into a person using polyjuice potion." Hermione stated, "I have never read of a person being able to transfigure…"

"It's a requirement to reach fourth level Mastership in Transfiguration." Minerva replied, "But you cannot learn it, unless you are _very _dedicated to the calming of the mind…and it is far easier to use polyjuice potion."

"How did you cast the counter-curse?" Hermione questioned after a quiet moment.

"You have to find a moment of clarity…" Minerva reached up, pulling her lip…open…the wound still bleeding against her teeth, "I've found…a deep cut within my mouth typically gives my mind a reprieve."

"And when people see the body go slack, they believe it is the body's momentarily over-sensitized."

Minerva braced her hands, and began to sit up…she felt a hand upon her shoulder, helping to raise her. "Quite, as how often have you heard of someone using a counter-curse?"

"Never." Hermione replied with ease.

"I need…" Minerva closed her eyes, "I am sorry, dear." She stated feeling her world spin again as she placed her hand upon the floor to keep from falling over, "But I need to return to Hogwarts…between the warding, this…my meeting at the Governors…and the rebalancing of the northern wards…I fear I am in need of rest."

"Sit for another minute." Hermione quickly stood, and grasped her wand as she did. "I will gather your cloak, one moment."

"Hermione…" Minerva swallowed, tipping her head back. "Please grab Derrick's too."

Hermione frowned to herself but swept from the room, calling out. "Bonnie." As she opened the closet at the end of the hall. The elder elf appeared at once, "Can you please ask Elgin to meet me in Minerva's office?"

Bonnie frowned, "Of course. Why?"

Hermione draped the two cloaks over her arm, as she closed the door. "She is exhausted and…" She never had an opportunity to finish as Bonnie was gone within a heartbeat. Hermione quickly retraced her steps, only to find both Elgin and Bonnie on either side of Minerva…concern etched upon both their faces.

"We'se be getting you'se to Hogwarts." Elgin stated glancing up as Hermione stepped into the room.

"Please see that the floo remains open…" Minerva quietly breathed, "Hermione…"

"I'll be fine, Minerva." She stated, "The walk will do me some good."

Minerva cracked her eyes open, "I may be exhausted, but…" She shifted, "I have not lost my senses…use the floo...I'll see you…momentarily." She nodded to Hermione…and Bonnie and Elgin glanced from her to Hermione and back…and then to each other…and they were gone with a crack.

Hermione wasted no time…spinning around on her heel and marching down the hall into the drawing room; the fabric from the cloaks brushing along her shins as she paused…fingers sinking into the thick powder. At once she threw it into the flames, the fire danced green, "Headmistress of Hogwarts." And she stepped in…felt a whirlwind…and then Minerva's office came into focus. She glanced up…the portraits instantly watching as she stepped from the grate.

"Where is our esteemed colleague?" Everard inquired noticing Minerva's outer cloak.

"Already here." Hermione replied and was quickly climbing the brass staircase two at a time. She paused at seeing all the doors closed…and tried to remember which one along the eastern wall led to Minerva's private room.

With a breathe, she strode forward…and knocked…the door creaking open…as the last of the alabaster and blue glow left Minerva's body…Elgin and Bonnie standing at the end of the bed…their hands wrapped within the others, worried eyes fixed upon Minerva.

Hermione reached out, giving the cloaks to Elgin. "Here." She stated quietly.

Elgin turned…long fingers of his right hand gripping the fabric as Minerva turned her head…hair spilling outward as she tiredly licked her lips, "We will begin your training tomorrow…"

"Perhaps after a few days." Hermione whispered.

"I will see you tomorrow." Minerva stated an air of finality in her voice. "Good night, Hermione." She whispered as she absently reached up and pulled her glasses from her face and set them upon her table beside her bed.

Hermione paused unsure if she should move, but quietly stepped around Elgin and Bonnie…to the side table…placing Minerva's wand beside her glasses. "Your wand is here."

"Thank you." Came the muted, exhausted reply.

Hermione felt tears prickle against her eyes, "Good night, Minerva." She whispered before turning and leaving…the door silently closing as soft, rhythmic breathing cascaded across the room.

Elgin stared at the two cloaks, and Bonnie smiled at him…giving him a kiss upon the cheek. "I believe the second one now belongs to Miss Hermione."

He gave a solitary nod. "I'se takes cares of its."

Bonnie nodded, "I know."

They both glanced to the Mistress, Bonnie snapping her fingers and the boots and outer robes vanished and at Elgin's snap…Minerva was no longer on top of the covers…they both snapped their fingers a second time…leaving the room vacant, save for the Mistress sleeping…and the Master's portrait who gazed lovingly at his wife wishing he could offer her the support she so desperately needed.

Oxoxoxoxoxoxox

_A/N: Hope this helps with the Holiday spirit. _


	33. Chapter 31 November 5th, 2009

**Chapter 32 ~ November 5****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

Hermione fingered the silken black cloak, debating on whether to wear that one or her traditional midnight blue one. And as she pulled the black cloak from the hanger, she knew it hadn't been much of a debate. Though, as she slipped it over her shoulders and drew up the seam line, she paused…wondering if she should try again to give it back to Minerva. She had tried last night, Minerva merely chuckled softly and said that it suited her and that Bonnie knew what she was doing by giving it to her.

_"So, please." Minerva nodded to the cloak, "Keep it and wear it."_

_ Hermione tried once more to hand it back to Minerva, "But I have cloaks of my own…"_

_ "True." Minerva replied, eyes dropping to the fabric for a moment before returning back to Hermione. "You do. However, unless you would never wear it, I shall not accept it back. It is a fine cloak that has seen the inside of a closet for far too long."_

_ Hermione's hands tightened around the black silk, "Thank you." _

The first chime of the clock brought Hermione back from her musings, eyes snapping to the mirror for a brief second as she reveled in the feel of the cloak. It was a perfect weight, not burdensomely heavy, nor too light to be effective…and it fit beautifully.

Turning, she swept from her chambers bidding a brief good evening to Godric before the door swung open and she made her way down to the second floor and Minerva's office; feeling her legs pull slightly as she descended. Minerva and Hermione had practiced intensely the past two nights, but not on the unforgivable curses. Minerva had worked with her on the pronunciation and then they had once again worked on being able to detect oncoming spells.

Last night had been a breakthrough; she had not only evaded one…but three successively. And she had done so more than once. Hermione smiled at one of her young Gryffindors ascending the steps, books wrapped protectively within her grasp. "Miss Maeur, a trip to the library I see."

The young blond haired witch smiled, "Good evening, professor. Yes. A bit of research for…" Her face began turning pink, "My transfiguration essay."

Hermione glanced to the books, knowing from the color of the texts without glancing at the bindings what ones were within her grasp. "I'd suggest reading Brihn's book first."

Samantha gave a nod, "Of course professor."

"Then off you go." She said turning away, "It's almost time for curfew."

Samantha didn't need a second prompt as she quickly began ascending the stairs again, books held tight in her hands as Hermione once again began descending. Within another two minutes she found herself uttering, _Kit's Korner_, to the stone gargoyle statue which instantly leapt aside with a rumble for a greeting this evening.

At three seconds, the stone ground to a halt and the door way was open and waiting…Minerva's voice ringing from her office.

"Good evening, Professor Granger." She stated without looking up as her eyes continued scanning the parchment held within her hands.

"Headmistress." Hermione formally replied, silently wondering why Minerva had been so formal…

Then she saw why.

Two members from the Board of Governors, Alayah Aves and James York, were standing opposite of where Minerva was sitting. There expressions were reserved as they turned to face her, Minerva ignoring the scene, flipped the page and continued reading, her clear voice ringing through the air. "If you will give us but a moment more, Professor."

Alayah took a step forward, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Professor. Alayah Aves."

Hermione yanked her eyes from Minerva's stilted postured form and donned a smile upon her face as she extended out her hand. "Hermione Granger."

James eyed the exchange before stepping forward, "James York." He stated hand extended.

Hermione took his hand, "Pleasure, James…Alayah."

He stood back up, forest green eyes scanning the witch before him. "Late night errand?"

Hermione never had an opportunity to respond, Minerva's voice cutting across the air. "The outer patrol across the Hogwarts grounds, part of the roving detail I spoke about last week."

James gave a nod, "My apologies. Yes."

Alayah immediately interjected, "I must say, Hermione." She stepped a bit closer, fingers barely brushing across the shoulder of Hermione's cloak. "This is a wonderful cloak and rich in design. Where did you get this? I haven't seen work like this, even at Madame Malkin's."

Minerva stood, "These." She rolled the parchments back up, "Will be fine. And I will have an answer for the Governors after the holidays."

Alayah and James spun back to Minerva, Alayah's voice suddenly a half of octave higher. "Regarding **all** the items."

Minerva met Alayah's gaze without so much as a blink. "Yes. Now…" She banished the papers from her hands and was stepping around her desk, "If that is all…"

"You never said how long you'd remain…" James was immediately interrupted by Minerva.

"I said through the end of term, next spring. Now…" Minerva's jaw was set, "I _believe_ we _are _finished this evening. As the rest of this will be discussed _after _the holidays at the Governors' meeting."

Alayah placed a hand upon James' arm, "Thank you for your time, Minerva." She gave her a brief nod, "And Hermione…" Her face gave a warm smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Hermione stated, wondering what was upon the parchment Minerva had banished, and exactly what Minerva meant by the end of term…this coming spring. Surely…she hadn't meant she was leaving this coming spring. Had she?

Idly she watched the witch and wizard leave the way she had just entered, Minerva remaining immobile until the door closed behind them. "Are you ready?" She asked as soon as the gargoyle began moving.

"Yes." Hermione stated, eyes pulling to the elder witch. "What were you referring to regarding the end of term?"

Minerva didn't let the question deter her as her hand wrapped around the brass staircase. "I had a rather terse meeting with Governors on Monday," Several of the portraits nodded as Hermione moved to follow. "And explained that I may be seeking to retire after the end of this term."

Hermione felt her heart drop, "What?"

Minerva stepped into her living room, easily summoning and donning the emerald cloak before Hermione had an opportunity to reach the landing. "Retire, Hermione." She reiterated, "I will come to a decision after the holidays."

"But…" Hermione stopped at the top of the stairs and openly starred at Minerva, mouth slightly ajar as she tried to come up with a refuting statement…finally uttering the only one that came to mind and held little reasoning behind it. "You can't."

Minerva felt her lips curl into a smile and a chuckle reverberate from deep within her chest. "I assure you dear, I can."

"Hogwarts…"

Minerva took the necessary steps forward, "Has been here long before I became the Headmistress and will be here long after I leave."

"And who will be here when Rose or Hugo attends?" She asked, eyes searching Minerva's. "It won't be the same…"

"Life is filled with change, Hermione." Minerva replied. "Now…"

Hermione took a step closer, bringing her within three feet of Minerva. "What is causing you to _want _to leave? I always thought you to be happy here?" Hermione watched a storm of emotions pass Minerva's eyes. "Minerva…"

Minerva held her breath a few seconds more, willing her voice to be unfazed by Hermione's questions. "We need to be focused Hermione. As for my retiring…or not; it is a decision that is…_pending_ and one that I would prefer not be brought up to the staff until I have decided."

Brown eyes searched green ones, head slowly nodding. "Of course, I just…" She leaned back incrementally, "Can't picture Hogwarts without you." A childish smile crossing her lips. "Nor have I even given the notion credence that someone, other than you, would be the Head of Hogwarts when my children were attending."

"As I have stated previously, Hermione. I won't _always _be here." Her voice almost wistful. "Now…" Minerva forced a smile upon her lips, "To the matter at hand."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask further, but Minerva gave a soft nod.

"We need to be going. The window will be very tight." Minerva stated, "Remember what we spoke of last night."

Hermione nodded, pulling her focus to the present; despite desperately wanting to ask Minerva more questions but instead her mind recalled fragments of their conversation and what they were about to attempt. "And you are sure of this…?" Hermione questioned, apprehension beginning to beat in time with her pulse.

"You know what I do." Minerva pulled her wand into her hand.

"And Lucius…"

"We went over this last night," Minerva's typically composed voice betraying a hint of worry. "Have your wand ready."

Hermione spun the handle in a comforting gesture with her fingers, "It already is."

Minerva reached out…placing her hand upon Hermione's arm, "Three…"

Hermione felt her back teeth involuntarily clench…

"Two…" Minerva took a deep, calming breath…stilling her own nerves.

Hermione turned to Minerva, "If something happens…"

Minerva turned to meet Hermione's concerned eyes. "We will be in and out. Stay focused, remember your training and you will be fine."

"And what about you?" Hermione swallowed.

"I'll see if I can't come back in one piece too. But, remember, you may need to go to St. Mungos…I'll make it back here."

Hermione reached her left hand around, grasping Minerva's elbow. "Promise me you will."

"Faith manages, Hermione." She obliquely replied, "One." She felt Hermione's hand tighten along her arm.

Hermione wanted to ask her again…ask what she meant by _faith manages_, she had never seemed like a spiritual person nor did Hermione believe Minerva meant it in a spiritual way…but what _faith _was Minerva referring to? It mattered not, as her questions went unasked, she felt a surge of magic swell around Minerva…a shifting…a momentary pull…and then blackness filled with luxurious strands of music that she now associated with Minerva's apparition…and then…they were standing within the backroom of Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley.

Three wizards, one in maroon robes…Douglass and one other man in black ones, standing over what appeared a portly wizard, with stained and tattered olive green robes…a second wizard appearing petrified in the far corner of the room.

Douglass lifted his head at once, surprise lining his face at the two intruders. "_You, _I understand." He sneered towards Minerva, but as his eyes slid to Hermione he shook his head. "Whereas, I don't you."

"Let him go." Hermione crisply demanded.

"Drop your wands or he dies." Douglass nodded to one of his cohorts and he pointed his wand downward to the still man.

"He's dead already." Minerva succinctly stated, voice as cold as ice. "And if not, kill him and I shall kill you."

Hermione watched as the maroon robed wizard visibly recoiled from Minerva's threat as did Douglass.

"That's Horace Slughorn, you worked with him for decades…" Douglass began.

"Pompous ass of a man." Minerva stated uncaring, "Never cared for his Slug Club."

"Then why have you come here?" Douglass questioned, eyes narrowing.

Minerva leaned forward, the light vanishing from her face by the way her head dipped to the side, her hat casting a shadow upon her features…save for her eyes…which seemed to sparkle, all their own. "For you."

Douglass suddenly felt very small next to the tall woman, though he stood an additional six inches in height. Fingers instinctively tightened upon his wand, "We'll take Granger and then take you versus Horace back to Johannes."

"Perhaps." Minerva responded, "Or…not…" And at once, the room was in a frenzy.

Glass jars along the back wall exploded; dried hands, petrified creatures, dragon teeth, and countless other objects fell to the floor as Minerva cast a protego charm between Horace and the wizard…as Hermione shot a stunning hex at the man; and he fell atop of Horace with a thud.

Douglass wielded two spells at Hermione…

The black robed wizard shot two at Minerva…

Both witches simultaneously returned their attention to the other wizards, Hermione casting a protego charm to deflect the spells cast at her…Minerva jumped forward…morphing into a cat as she did…the errant spells striking a stack of leather tombs, papers shooting several feet into the air.

"She's changed!" The black robed man screeched eyes trying to follow the form of the darting cat as spells shot from the tip of his wand at a lightning speed. Each spell a hairs breathe too late, causing furniture to burst apart, glass, objects…as the cat sprung effortlessly across the room and away from Horace toward the door, the wizard in pursuit. As Minerva jumped through the doorway, her emerald eyes darted to the other duel in the room…Hermione was holding Douglass, and then the frame two inches above her head cracked…and she sprung away…morphing as she did, hat falling from her head as she pushed forward with her left hand to upright herself as the balls of her feet slid backward another few inches from the slick surface of her boots.

Spells were bursting objects apart around the witch as she forced her nimble body forward at a speed that matched her animagus state, dodging to the left…hair coming out from her bun and spilling against her cheek…eyes focused upon the doorway, and the wizard now stepping through…

The spell dying upon his lips as his body succumbed to a body binding spell and he fell over…face first. Minerva didn't bother glancing backwards as she rushed forward…

**Oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**

Hermione dodged to the left casting a protego charm as she did…unsure whether the hex would miss her…as Minerva slid from the room. For a moment, she wondered if the other wizard would follow or turn upon her too. The spell struck the charm…needlessly…_ It would have missed me_, her mind idly thought with a strange sense of clarity.

Her concern was nullified as Douglass sent another flurry of spells towards her and she cast two successive shield charms before summoning hundreds of shards of glass and hurling them towards Douglass as the other wizard continued casting a flurry of spells into the other room, hesitantly stepping forward.

Douglass side apparated…the glass imbedding into the wall as he reappeared and shot a Cruciatus curse upon Hermione.

She could see the spell coming…

Feel her heart rate accelerate at the notion of what _that _spell could do to her…

She felt herself wanting to cast a protego charm…

But another part of her brain wanted her dip to the right…

To follow what she had spent hours learning…

And despite her apprehension…

Despite the gravity of the spell…and if she were to miss…

Hermione found herself doing what she had never imagined possible, save through sheer luck. She was twirling away, body dipping to the side…as her eyes remained focused upon Douglass, his movements…his torso…his wand arm…even the flicker across his face…

The red light glinting off the black cloak…as her hair tumbled against her neck…a spell already springing from her wand…

As the Cruciatus curse whizzed past.

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**

Minerva felt her heart stop as the black cloak billowed around Hermione…momentarily swallowing her within its folds as she moved away from the spell, her own wand within her hand…

Spell upon her lips…

But then she saw the flicker of orange come from the depth of Hermione's obscured hand…

And knew it was over…as the cloak began to fall, brown hair tumbling upon her shoulder…the Cruciatus curse scorching the wall black as Douglass' face went slack and he fell to the ground; asleep.

Minerva cocked her brow, a smile upon her lips. "Well done."

Relief was plastered upon Hermione's face. "And you?" Her eyes scanned Minerva, "Are you alright?"

"Nothing a good night's rest won't cure." She strode forward, "If you would be so kind and free Caractacus." Minerva nodded to the far corner, where the still man remained…petrified…a several cuts upon his face, blood soaking his robes.

At once Hermione went to un-petrify Mr. Burke, one of the two owners to the notorious shop as Minerva kneeled beside Horace. With a flick of her hand, the other wizard rolled backwards…off of Horace and onto several broken objects, which posed no immediate life threatening danger, though…Minerva was sure, it would amount to a mild bit of discomfort.

"We are going to get you to St. Mungos." Minerva's soft Gaelic voice resonating in the now still room as she cast a diagnostic spell upon him.

"To Hogwarts, Minerva." He rasped, beady eyes blinking blurrily open.

"After Helena has had an opportunity to treat you." She replied.

"Is it safe?" He wheezed, eyes closing from the effort to talk.

"You will be." Minerva frowned at the readings, "Though, they gave you…"

"Two drams…" He murmured… "Right pocket…"

At once, Minerva reached into Horace's robe and felt a small bottle…and pulled it out, a smile already upon her lips. "How long have you been obscuring the facts?"

"Long enough." He swallowed, "Though…they have been rather persistent."

"We'll talk after Helena has looked at you, Horace." She paused glancing to the Caractacus and Hermione, "You remember Hermione Granger?"

He strained, opening one of his black eyes, "Of course." The jovial spirit came out in a waspish cough.

"She will be taking you." She lifted her hand from his shoulder, "I will see you once Helena has treated you."

"Minerva." He reached out, stubby fingers grasping her knee. "We _must_ talk…"

Smaller fingers laid upon his, "We will. Soon." She squeezed them as they fell from her robes, "I promise."

Her words had the desired effect, and his body seemed to go lack almost instantly. Minerva turned to Hermione. "I'll see you back at Hogwarts."

Hermione _wanted _to stay but nodded. "Any message for Helena?"

Minerva gave a brief shake of the head and stood as Hermione knelt. Hermione placed her hand upon Horace's shoulder and with a final glance to Minerva and one of the shops proprietors, she was gone.

**ococococococococococococ**

"Minerva…" Caractacus immediately began, "I can't thank you or Miss Granger enough."

Minerva cast a wary eye upon the shop. "I am sorry we couldn't inflict a bit less damage."

He chuckled, "Nonsense." His eyes darted to the blackened wall, the remnants of thirty jarred objects, "It needed a good cleaning."

A smile pulled upon the witch's features, "Perhaps it did." She reached into her robes, pulling a handkerchief and folded it. "Here." She said, placing it upon his forehead. "Hold it."

"It shall be fine." He stated, trying not to wince as he applied pressure. "An annoyance, that is all."

"Be sure to see a healer, Caractacus."

He gave a nod, "Very well." He nodded to the two men, "Thank you. And as always, if ever you have a need…"

"It would mean a great deal if the Auror department can take claim for the capture this evening." She stated, eyes boring into his.

"Restoring the wizarding community's faith in the Ministry…" His jaw flickered, "I doubt I will ever understand you, Minerva. But," He sighed, "If it will make your life easier."

Minerva nodded, "Yes. Immeasurably."

"Then, just one question…" He stated, blue eyes searching her face for a flicker of the truth. "How did you know to come here tonight?"

"Like most things in life," Her lips curling into a semblance of a smile, "Sheer luck."

****

Helena gave a nod to Micheals, and the Potion's master was taken behind a curtained wall to begin treatment. Her attention immediately turned to Hermione as her eyes fully scanned the younger witch.

She didn't see any noticeable injuries, but that didn't mean anything. "Are you sure you were uninjured?"

"Yes. And Slughorn?" Hermione inquired, eyes darting to the thin wall separating her from him.

"He'll live. I'll send a full report to Minerva later this evening." She paused, "And how is she?"

"Minerva?" Hermione frowned as her attention reverberated back to Helena.

The blond haired witch nodded, "Yes."

Hermione thought back for a second, "She looked fine. I don't think she was hurt at all."

Helena felt a measure of peace at the news, silently wondering when the other shoe was going to drop, the one with all the bad news. "And she is still at Borgan and Burkes?"

"Yes, the three wizards are there and she wanted to talk with Mr. Burke; who will undoubtedly be seeking minor medical attention."

"I also believe she will be taking care of the fact that neither of you will have been there."

"What do you…" Hermione forced herself to drop her voice, despite her desire to raise it. "Mean? Not have been there?"

"Caractacus owes her several favors, I have no doubt that she will be calling one or two in. As she will not _want _to have been involved if she can help it."

"Her problems with Kingsley." Hermione quietly stated, "But I thought some of the tension between them had been alleviated."

"He still believes she wants his job."

Hermione involuntarily rolled his eyes. "Like she would ever leave…" Her voice trailing away at the word as she recalled their conversation less than an hour earlier, "Hogwarts."

Helena watched the sudden shift in Hermione's expression and braced herself for whatever her sharp intellect had just pieced together.

Hermione's voice barely a whisper. "Before we left, Minerva said she may retire after this year, you don't think…"

"I can assure you, she is not considering trying to become the Minister of Magic." Helena's soft cadence bordering on wistful for her friend.

"Then you know why…she is looking to retire?" Hermione drilled Helena with a searching look.

Helena couldn't help find the irony in Hermione's word choice, or perhaps Minerva's…as that is where it would have originated. Retire; to take leave, go away, give up work, to withdraw…the word held far more correlating notions regarding Minerva…than any would even realize. "We spoke about it before the start of term, she has been contemplating it for _some _time."

Hermione's mind swept over her and Minerva's conversations, the tidbits of information, and the large overriding factor. She had not been well, "Is the reason health related?"

Helena kept her face un-reactive, "Do not ask me Hermione. Seek your information from Minerva, as you know I will not and cannot answer your question."

Brown eyes searched blue ones for a shard of information, but only a mask of walls greeted her eyes. "You are a good friend."

"And she is to me." Helena kindly replied, "Now…" She nodded towards the door, "Return to Hogwarts and the children, I'll keep both you and Minerva posted."

"Get some rest, Helena." She stated.

"You too." Helena replied as she turned away from Hermione who was already stepping through the door, tears in her eyes…that Minerva was beginning to slowly put measures in place...to retire.

**Oxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxxoxo**

Harry eyed the scene, shocked. "Why didn't you call us?"

Minerva summoned her hat as she gazed at the younger wizard, "You were."

He turned to face her fully, "Before you and Hermione took on three wizards."

"Then you do not wish to take these men into custody?" She inquired, brow arched as she dusted off her hat.

"How did you know _they _were going to be here?" He asked, face within a foot of the revered woman's.

She met his gaze with her own, solid, unyielding one…that literally took his breath away. "Harry, we are both fine. Now," She narrowed her eyes, "If you could see these men processed and questioned as to what Johannes is after regarding the ex-professors of Hogwarts, I would be most grateful."

Harry sighed, stepping back…running his hand through his unruly black hair, face twisted into a frown. "Alright. We'll see what we can find." He scanned the room, "We did this, huh?"

"And fine work you did, Harry." Minerva said, placing her hat upon her head, green eyes twinkling.

**oxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxo**

Hermione paused, eyes sweeping over the great stonewalls of Hogwarts...stopping upon the Headmistress' Tower. It was lit from within, but that did not necessarily mean that Minerva had returned already.

_But…it didn't mean she hadn't either,_ Hermione thought as she began the quiet walk back from the gates. Winter was fast approaching, the temperature in the air not quite forty degrees, the bare limbs of the trees….and she involuntarily pulled her cloak tighter about her, as her mind drifted back to Minerva's startling revelation. Minerva leaving Hogwarts. And ultimately what that meant to Hermione.

She had never fancied teaching, or even imagining herself to be a professor at the fabled and distinguished school…but now…she found she rather enjoyed it. Looked forward to the morning…waking up and starting her day…teaching young minds…having an opportunity to mold the future, while still being able to partake in events of the present.

_But without Minerva there…_

_ Without her calming presence…_

_ Clockwork precision…_

_ Her quiet and yet forceful guiding hand…_

_ Would Hogwarts even be the same place? _

_ Minerva McGonagall had resided and taught at the school for over fifty years. How do you replace someone with that much character…investment…knowledge…and expect it to be the same? Would she want to stay on as a professor if Minerva wasn't there?_

The answer was startlingly simple.

_No._

_ Not that Filius wasn't a wonderful wizard, powerful even. But…it wasn't the same. He didn't have the…_

Hermione paused in her thoughts as her gaze lifted to the stars, mind searching for the word that best described Minerva…

_Presence. Yes, presence,_ she thought. _Minerva exuded presence…whether intentional or not. _

She continued walking forward…mind churning with unanswered questions and startling realizations…

_ Because what would the wizarding community do if Minerva resigned from Hogwarts…and Johannes Harkiss had not been stopped. It was through her assurances that the Board of Governors kept it open through Voldemort's terror…and even now, it seemed she was offering the same type of guarantees…_

One of the great oak doors opened, enabling her quiet entry into the flagstone hall. Without thought, she began ascending the stairs to her rooms, but as she reached the second floor, she veered off and within seconds found herself uttering the password to the stone gargoyle.

It leapt aside enabling Hermione to step atop the roving staircase. It did not stop at the office and Hermione felt a pang of guilt for stopping by Minerva's. The elder woman was probably tired and readying for bed, as she would be momentarily. Her exhaustion from the duel ebbing through her joints and muscles.

The stairs stopped…and with a hesitant breath she turned the handle to the chestnut door…

To see Minerva nimbly taking off her emerald outer cloak, her head turning to

meet her visitor. "I take it Horace will be fine?" She asked as the cloak fell from her shoulders and into the crook of her arm.

"Yes. Helena said she'd let you know." Hermione replied, and at that point noticed Minerva's slightly charred fingertips. "I thought you said you were fine." She stated, eyes still fixed upon Minerva's right hand.

Minerva knew what Hermione was referring to, and cursed her foolishness for bringing her wand hand within sight. "It shall be fine tomorrow." She dropped her arm ever so much, her cloak falling over the tips of her fingers.

Hermione took another step forward, nodding towards Minerva's hand. "You said it only happened after you used a great deal of magic…" She lifted her brown eyes to Minerva's. "I know you had to use a fair amount, but…I wouldn't have thought enough to burn the tips of your fingers."

"Apparating through Hogwarts wards is not a small piece of magic…"

"Then stop." Hermione interrupted, "We'll walk to the gates and apparate from there. A few minutes would not have mattered…" Hermione shook her head, an edge lining her words. "And I don't give a damn about convenience."

Minerva fought off her own frustration that Hermione did have a point…but it was difficult to stop a multi-decade habit. "Unless it is an emergency…" Minerva raised her left hand to stop the comeback. "I will endeavor to remember."

"How much is your health affecting your decision to think of resigning from Hogwarts?" She asked without preamble, staring expectantly at Minerva.

"I…" Minerva had known that Hermione might piece together her waning magical abilities as time wore on, but this was definitely not the avenue Minerva believed she would be deterring Hermione from first. "Am thinking of resigning for a multitude of reasons."

"Your health being one of them?" Hermione pushed on, not willing to let Minerva dodge the question.

"Amongst many others," She honestly answered, "Yes."

Hermione felt as though a bludger had struck her diaphragm…the urge to vomit and breath at once demanding her attention that she couldn't stop the gasp too. "The curse, Minerva…" Her eyes now pleading with the other woman. "How bad is it? Truly?" She asked…mentally thinking back over the last three months, the events she had witnessed that she was sure very few were privy to.

"As I said previously, there will come a time that it will claim my life."

"Then how is it that after you are wounded, even mortally so, you appear healed the subsequent day as though nothing has happened? How is something so…healing, so destructive?"

"Magic." Minerva answered, unknowingly to Hermione…quite truthfully.

"Minerva…" Exasperated, her hands flung upwards, "Why won't you answer…me?"

Minerva silently watched Hermione, as she turned away…jaw clenched in mild frustration…and for a moment, thought of telling her the whole of her plight. But the moment was gone. "I did, Hermione. And I have." At once, Hermione spun on her heel, eyes blazing, "Now…before you try and rebuke my statement, remember…I stated there would be some areas, that I am truly sorry, Hermione…but you will probably never learn the absolute truth."

"But…to not be at Hogwarts..."

"As I stated, it is a decision I am pondering. Now…" She nodded to the door, "I am tired and in need of sleep, dear."

"Are you at least sleeping?" Hermione asked, concern evident in her eyes.

Minerva paused, hand upon her bedroom door. "Not as well as I once was. But…as I said, I shall call upon you if needed."

"Minerva…" Hermione took a step, but stopped when green eyes pierced hers.

"You did very well, Hermione." She stated voice indicating that the conversation was over, "Good night."

Hermione reached forward, despite the warning gaze and clenched jaw. "I'm just worried, Minerva."

"And your concern is appreciated." Minerva honestly replied, "But I did get several hours of rest the past three nights. Please, do the same." She whispered, "And again, you did well dear."

"Thank you," Hermione quietly replied, stepping away, "Good night. Minerva."

Minerva held her warm gaze a moment more and then stepped into her bedroom as Hermione silently made her way back to the door that housed the Gargoyle.

And stopped…her fingers brushing the metal.

_Several hours of rest…_she turned back around, purpose in her steps...feeling mildly foolish as she reached out her hand and wrapped on the door. "Minerva."

Minerva cast a glance to the door and tiredly waved at the door, it creaked open to reveal a perplexed Transfiguration professor. "Something amiss?" She questioned, as she finished placing her cloak within the depths of one of the wardrobes.

"Rest does not equate sleep, Minerva."

"Ah." She partially closed the door to her wardrobe, "Yes. Nor does sleep equate rest. Now, what can I help you with, Hermione?" Tiredness ebbing from her voice.

"The truth." Hermione replied matter a factly.

Minerva felt the breath leave her lungs, "Excuse me?"

"You haven't been sleeping." She stepped fully into the room, feeling her heart hammering in her chest as she invaded deeper into the other witch's personal space. "Sunday night, after the…" Hermione felt her mouth stumble across the word, "The crucio…" She forced herself to continue, "When you were lying there, you no longer had a Glamour charm hiding the dark circles beneath your eyes nor how much your cheeks have sunken in from your weight loss. So the truth, Minerva."

Green eyes and brown eyes met…

Their gazes holding…

Then slowly…emerald eyes fell away...as did Minerva's head. "Hermione…please…" She turned away, hand already upon the window ledge…gaze searching out into the night.

Hermione stopped moving, eyes resting upon Minerva's straight back. "Let me help you." Hermione whispered wanting to step forward, but unwilling to step farther in.

Minerva took a steadying breath… "I have slept more this past weekend and week…then I have for the whole of the week before." She eyed herself through the glass, as she silently dissolved the glamour charm…deep black circles becoming prevalent…

"How many hours have you slept this week?" Hermione questioned.

"Not nearly enough." Minerva replied, quietly turning away from her gaunt face, to meet Hermione's startled eyes. "As you can see."

She had known Minerva had not looked rested last weekend, but to see her tonight…Hermione's heart sank as tears sprung into her eyes. "I thought…last weekend..." She couldn't help herself from stepping forward, "Helped." She whispered, "But you look really…" She curtailed her initial word, to one not quite as harsh. "Haggard."

"Why thank you, dear." Minerva stated, a gentle smile curling the tips of her lips. "For your resounding appraisal."

"Minerva…" Hermione stopped as Minerva's smile faded and her hand drew up.

"If you could stay tomorrow…"

"Why not tonight?" Hermione interrupted, meeting Minerva's tired eyes with her own. "I'll come back within half an hour, you take the sleeping draught…"

"I'd prefer not to take the draught tonight." Minerva interjected.

Hermione's brows narrowed, confused. "But I thought you said you needed sleep."

"I do, but…" Minerva could feel her fatigue pulse with Hogwarts magic…and a low cricket noise that was humming in her ears…signaling that it was only a matter of time before Hogwarts magic swept over her own, healing her. And it was not something she wished for anyone to see…despite the times a scant few had seen, but if her wounds were not too bad…she would wait. But, she could only wait for so long. And even now…the crickets were becoming louder. She sighed…as another layer of her world was being peeled away… "Not before…" She pulled out her hand, enabling Hermione to see Minerva's blackened fingers. "I've been healed."

"How long…" Hermione's eyes cast about Minerva's room, looking…expectantly… "Until that happens?"

"It depends…" Minerva replied. "On how severe the damage."

"I still don't understand how the curse heals you…" Hermione began. "And through what means it heals you."

Minerva could feel the prickling in her fingers, "I'm not entirely sure…."

Hermione had watched Minerva's face…and shook her head. "Minerva…you know…"

Her words faded away…the crickets now dampening out all of the other noises…prickling in her fingers becoming more intense…and she raised her eyes to Hermione…wanting to say something…but then she felt Hogwarts magic pulse…and for a moment…the world around her fell away.

And all she could do was feel…

Hogwarts magic coursing through her…healing, knitting, regenerating…her fingers, her side, the light burn along the side of her leg…

She could feel her own magic pulse in melodic tune…

Hear and feel the faint resonance of Albus' magic…

The peace of having his magical signature resonate for a solitary second against her own…

And then in the same second it was gone…as was Hogwarts…and she was blinking her eyes open…

Immediately noticing Hermione's concerned countenance and a hand hovering just beside her left arm, above her elbow. "I'm…fine." She whispered to Hermione giving her a nod, and stepping backwards to give her a bit more space. "But…" She reached up, drawing a hand down her arm. "I need to sleep, dear."

Hermione noticed that the lines around Minerva's face had lessoned…as had the oppressive circles beneath her eyes, but it was evident that her overbearing exhaustion remained. Minerva was already pulling off her outer robe, "Would you like a sleeping draught?"

Minerva absently banished her outer robe, "No, but…" She swallowed the last of her pride, "If you are willing, perhaps…" She clenched her jaw, "I will sleep for three hours, perhaps a bit more…"

"It's not even eleven." Hermione stated, eyes darting to the clock.

"And though, I do not wish to take a draught now. If you would be willing…to give one…"

Hermione understood. Minerva wished to sleep as long as possible without the draught, and if it were to early in the night, to take a draught and sleep for a bit longer. "Would you feel more comfortable if I came later or…"

Minerva waved at Hermione, "I shall be sleeping before you reach your rooms, it makes no difference." She stated, "Just please bring the antidote."

Hermione merely nodded, "I will come back shortly. Do I ask…Elgin?"

"Yes. He will bring you here." She motioned to the door, "Now, please Hermione."

Hermione gave one last look to Minerva, concerned…but left through the door, closing it behind her.

No sooner had the door closed, and Minerva banished her clothing as she summoned a nightgown. The silk material easily slipped over her head…and within moments, she was lying asleep beneath the covers.

****

Hermione returned to her chambers, and tiredly peeled off her robes, slipping on a purple cotton shirt and pair of knitted boxer shorts. Summoning her robe, she easily pulled it on before striding over to her chest, and with a wave, disabling the charm, the lock springing open granting her entry. Lifting the lid, she withdrew two small bottles, one containing the draught, the other the antidote and took note that only two more full doses remained. With ease, she slipped them into her pocket, returning the lid and lock to their original state of rest before donning a pair of slippers and striding into her living room.

With a wave of her wand, the fire diminished to a low burn, the coals remaining red and hopefully it would keep the heart of the chambers warm. Without much thought, she exited into her study, "Godric, could you please show me the common room?"

Upon hearing his name, he entered and smiled upon her request. She had begun using the portal not long ago, obviously having learned of its existence from the Headmistress. "Of course." He stated.

Hermione watched the scenery shift, and immediately noticed that the handful of students who remained within the Common room were studying…and as the picture scanned to the left, she smiled at young Miss Mauer still scribbling furiously upon her parchment, Brihn's book on Transfiguring Inanimate Objects to Animate Ones splayed open before her.

"Thank you Godric." Hermione stated, and the picture immediately dissolved away.

"Anything else this evening?" He rumbled.

"I will be assisting Minerva as I did last Friday, and not be here this evening." She replied.

Godric nodded, knowing a semblance of Minerva's problems and her utter lack of sleep over the past several weeks. The concerns amongst the portraits growing exponentially with each passing day, as they witnessed the formidable woman's steady decline in health. "If you are needed, I will send word through Albus."

"Thank you." She replied.

He gave her a curt nod and vanished from his portrait, leaving her momentarily alone. Glancing around her chamber, she knew she should finish the last of her grading, but it would wait. She was exhausted and despite Minerva's statement, she doubted very much that Minerva would be asleep before her arrival.

"Elgin…"

Immediately the elder house elf appeared by her side, "Minerva said to ask you to take me to her rooms."

He tiredly nodded, "I's is aware." He held out his hand.

"Would you prefer Milksy take me?" She asked concerned by his drawn eyes.

"Only Tilys and I's can apparate persons to the Mistress' chambers." He stated matter a factly as he touched her fingers and before she could open her mouth, she felt a pull, a tug…heard a soft pop…and then she was standing in Minerva's chambers.

Blinking, she turned around…and stopped.

She had been wrong.

Minerva was asleep. Minerva appeared so different as she slept…seeming almost…vulnerable as another soft breath escaped from her lips. Face buried into a pillow as she lay upon her stomach, right arm stretched upward out from the beneath the comforters…the lines of exhaustion clearly evident as her black hair framed her willowy face…as was the apparent stress from the recent months, her muscles not truly relaxing as her face twitched…and her arm jerked to the left. She watched a moment more, waiting to see if it continued…but it did not…

"She has been sleeping less and less over the years." Albus' kind voice softly stated. "And what little sleep she does get, is often fairly restless."

Hermione turned to the portrait, "But I thought her not sleeping was relatively new."

"It is." He lifted his gaze from his wife to Hermione. "Even a restless sleep is better than none at all."

As if on cue, a soft whimper filled the chamber…both eyes momentarily glancing to the sleeping woman within the bed. "When did this start?" She asked quietly.

"Following my death." He replied, a deep tenderness within his voice. "Get some rest Hermione." He nodded to Minerva. "She will be up within a scant few hours."

Hermione nodded and turned around, lighting the right side of the room by touching the lamp. Quietly, she traipsed to the left one, fingers barely grazing the metal frame, noting that Minerva's wand and glasses were readily available upon the table before bathing that side of the room in shadows.

At once, she returned…pulling the two bottles and her own wand from her robes, before untying the belt, her robe falling open…and she absently took it off, striding into the bathroom…and as a series of candles sprung to life, she silently wondered how Minerva's suite automatically did so much. She hung up her robe, vowing to ask Minerva how to have her lights in her bathroom come on without uttering a spell.

Slipping out from her slippers…she peeled the covers back and gingerly got into the oversized bed, loving the way it seemed to hug her…as if falling into a mattress of cushioned air. Perhaps…a new bed was not such a bad idea, she thought as she reached out…fingers touching the metal frame…darkness blanketing the room, save for a soft light coming in from the stars…

Hermione stared up at the windows for several long minutes, her eyes becoming heavy…sliding downwards…momentarily resting upon Minerva's soft countenance…before sleep claimed her too.

**Oxoxoxoxoxxooxoxooxxooxoxox**

_A/N: I was entirely unproductively productive, as you can see. Happy Holidays._


	34. Chapter 32 November 6th, 2009

**Chapter 33 ~ November 6****th****, 2009 (Friday)**

Minerva jerked awake, heart hammering in her chest…eyes blinking...as she heard a soft voice whisper her name, "Minerva…" A warm hand touching her shoulder…as she licked her dry lips…heart beginning to slow as the soft voice continued talking…and her nightmare faded away.

"Your fine." Hermione continued on, "You're at Hogwarts."

Minerva felt gentle fingers course through her hair…

"Just breathe…"

Calming…

"You're fine."

Finally, Minerva recognized the melodious voice, "Hermione?" She turned her head, brilliant green eyes focusing on the shadowed form to her right.

"Yes." Hermione leaned back, fingers stretching…touching the light frame once, and a gentle glow filled the room. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, turning back around to see Minerva bring a trembling hand up to her head. "Are you alright?"

Minerva closed her eyes as she took a rattling breath, fingers momentarily upon the inside corner of her right eye, feeling the moisture pool against the tip. "Just…" The images were still fresh…

Still too close to the surface…

She could hear her daughter's voice…

"Need a minute." She whispered.

Hermione felt an immense sense of worry flood her veins, "Minerva?" She reached out, fingers grazing Minerva's skin as she cleared her throat. "What…was it?"

"Tessa." Minerva murmured. "She had been surrounded…" She felt a hand run up her arm, "As had Kat…and…" Her voice barely audible, "A half dozen killing curses were being shot at them."

"They're fine." Hermione quietly replied.

Minerva nodded, "I know." Gone was her usual clear emerald gaze, it had turned almost milky. "But the nightmares are _so _real."

Hermione reached upwards, her fingers leaving Minerva's arm…and began trailing through her long, silky hair…noting how fragile Minerva looked. "How long have you been having them?"

Minerva's eyes became unfocused, voice still rough from sleep. "They've been growing worse over the years."

"You didn't answer the question." She quietly rebuked as Minerva shifted and then rolled over, Hermione letting her hand fall from Minerva's head as she sat up. The covers falling to her waist…a soft glow of candles springing to life along the wall, casting a faint glow upon the woman.

"Their intensity…" She cleared her throat, "Changed shortly following Albus' death." Minerva flung the covers from her waist and stood.

"You had them before he died, didn't you?" Hermione questioned reading between what Minerva hadn't said.

"Yes." Came the short, crisp reply before she vanished into the bathroom before Hermione could question her as to whether she was going to take the sleeping draught…her own eyes darted to the wall, landing upon the phoenix clock. Two twenty-eight. _No wonder why I can hardly see straight_, Hermione thought. And to think that Minerva was typically getting up at this hour, no wonder why she's exhausted, her thought punctuated by her own yawn.

She moved, realizing that she needed to use the loo…and found her eyes gravitating to the door to her right. She stood and went to open the door, but stopped…the bathroom was probably connected. As if on cue, the door Minerva had vanished behind opened and Minerva stepped through…and stopped as she saw Hermione standing, hand upon the door.

"I'm sorry," Minerva stated, "Is it locked?"

Hermione felt a blush start upon her cheeks, "No…I just…" She cleared her throat, "Do these connect? I didn't...I mean…these are your private rooms and I…"

Minerva reached behind her opening the door, "Go ahead." She nodded to Hermione, feeling a smile touch her lips at Hermione's unease. After all, it isn't every day you sleep in someone else's private chambers in a situation like this. And yes, although a friend…she was not Helena…who had known her for decades and just…barged in. Hermione was thoughtful…not that Helena wasn't, but it was extremely different…new. Unsure.

Hermione entered into the bathroom and looked around as the candles burst to life, not in an effervescent glow as the bedroom had, but bright…enabling her to fully see the space she had entered. It was…ostentatious.

Everything she would associate with Albus Dumbledore seemed to be staring at her…

A mirror stretching the expanse of the large lavender marbled vanity that lay before her, well over ten feet in length. It still held what she was sure to be a brush Dumbledore had once used…a handful of clasps for his beard, a pair of half moon glasses…

"This side of the bathroom was Albus'." Minerva's soft voice breaking Hermione's cataloguing of objects present before her. "His vanity." Minerva's eyes swept over the materials…remembering the heart-wrenching morning after Albus' death…how she had crumbled in their bathroom…not wanting to believe he was gone as she gazed upon his typically untidy vanity.

"But when…Snape was the Headmaster, didn't he…" Hermione cast a glance to Minerva, noticing that she had wrapped a matching robe over her nightgown. "Have this suite?"

"No. The castle adjusted the rooms and these remained mine." Minerva's arm lifted, pointing for her to veer to the right. "The loo and a smaller vanity."

Hermione peeked around the corner, noticing that there was the toilet, a smaller vanity and sink, towels hanging along the wall…

"And…" Minerva had already turned away, heading back the way she had came, pausing in front of the large ten by ten walk-in marbled shower with small scenes depicted upon the tiles partially obscured by the plate glass in front. "The shower…" She nodded down the hall behind the shower, "The bath, about the size of the prefect's lies beyond."

Hermione starred into the dark hall, "You're kidding."

Minerva chuckled, "No. Albus took two other rooms off the suite to have this bathroom. Feel free." She stated.

Hermione walked down the hall, past the shower, noting that the shower seemed to have several sprayers…candles sprung to life as she neared…and she felt her breath catch. "Wow." She murmured as her eyes swept over the room. "This is…" She glanced back to see Minerva leaning on the corner of the wall, a soft smile gracing her features. "As large, perhaps larger than the prefect's bathroom."

"You are welcome to use it anytime, though, I ask that you don't share the information with the rest of the staff. They all have rather large bathrooms…"

"True," Hermione turned back around, "But not like this. It's large enough, you could almost go swimming." Her eyes were noticing the large stain glass depictions of various Hogwarts scenes, merpeople…

Minerva nodded, "With a few spells, you can. And I have." She simply stated.

Hermione stared for another two minutes before tearing her eyes from the decadent room and spinning on her heel, "I'm sure it's relaxing."

Minerva's right hand momentarily lifted to just above her right breast, "More therapeutic as it was after the stunners."

They began walking back the way they came, "You haven't used it since then?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"Not as a pool." Minerva's hand dropped from her chest as she swept past the shower, and towards her part of the bathroom. "This was or rather is my side." She breathed out…stopping in front of her vanity and large sink…

Hermione took in the area, it was so…Minerva McGonagall. The marble was a deep hunter green…the lines of the vanity were of a classic cut…the top had a brush…long thin hair pins were held within a tall etched piece of glass…a hand drawn picture was adhered to the corner of the mirror depicting a large family...

"Feel free, in the future to use this suite." Minerva stated, "I only ask that if I am in here, you remain on the other half."

"Of course." Hermione replied, "But I don't want to intrude." She turned back around, eyes narrowing as she tried to gaze at and recalled her husband's items still upon the vanity. "Dumbledore's items…"

"You can call him Albus, dear." Minerva quietly stated, "And I don't believe you'll disturb them."

"But I…"

Minerva opened the door, "Is the draught in the blue or green bottle?"

"Blue." She replied as the other witch slipped from the room, door closing behind her…and at once…her robe appearing on the hook at the back of the now closed door. _How do I get a bathroom like this?_ Hermione thought as she took five more steps to peek around the corner at Minerva's end of the bathroom. There was a second toilet…sink…vanity…and instead of the purple hues…deep green laced the décor. By the time Hermione opened the door to the room, the candles along the wall were extinguished and Minerva was lying on her side facing the windows.

She quietly pulled the door too… "I haven't fallen asleep, yet." Minerva murmured.

"Do you want me to wake you at any specific time?" Hermione asked as she eased into the bed.

"If I'm sleeping…no." Minerva replied, exhaustion. "I don't have anything in the morning that can't wait."

Hermione reached over, bathing the room in darkness again.

"Minerva." Albus' voice startling Hermione, neither of the other occupants noticing as his words continued on unabated. "Helena asks that you come to St. Mungos at once."

Minerva could feel her body beginning to succumb to the dreamless draught as a burst of adrenaline jolted into her system. "Horace?" She asked staving off a yawn.

"And Adam." He stated as she reached out, the light along her bed turning on as the room burst into light, the candles springing to life.

She went to stand, but felt her world shift…and at once grabbed the corner of the table to steady herself. "Hermione…the antidote…" She murmured feeling as though she would fall asleep any moment.

Hermione grasped it as she jumped from beneath the covers and striding along the bed to the other side, "Are you sure this can't wait?" She asked cracking the seal on the bottle.

Minerva reached out…a shake residing within her hand, causing Hermione to frown. "I will be fine." She stated as she took the antidote and drank it in one motion.

"No, Minerva." Hermione stated, "You're exhausted and you should be sleeping, not bolting off to St. Mungos."

"I'll sleep when I return to the castle." Minerva stated sincerely.

Hermione sighed, "Please do." She tried to smile, "You look exhausted." She whispered into the still air.

"As will you in the morning, please…" She nodded to the bed, "Sleep. Either here or in your rooms." She reached over and picked up her wand and Hermione watched in utter amazement as the fragile woman from moments ago seemed to morph…

The fatigue along her eyes melting away as if a fresh rain had come and cleaned the dirt off the top of a table…as she donned on her glasses…

A subtle wave of her hand…and Hermione heard a drawer slide open…

And then Minerva spun around and walked through the bathroom door…and Hermione could hear a few muttered words and before she knew it…the door on the other side of the bed was opening and out stepped…

Minerva McGonagall…in a set of crisp emerald robes…hat perched upon the side of her head…walking stick upon her side…broach fastened at the top of her robes…and she appeared as she did everyday…healthy…whole…and as the esteemed Headmistress of Hogwarts, she even seemed to have a sparkle within her eyes. "Good evening, Hermione." She said and before the younger witch could say a word, Hermione felt a wave of subtle magic tingle her skin and then…a ruffled pop and she was standing alone.

Hermione stared dumbfounded at where Minerva had been moments before wondering how in the hell she had changed so quickly. Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione stepped through the still open door that Minerva had entered…to see the maroon nightgown laying in a puddle upon the floor, and as her eyes swept over the room, noticed that the etched container holding her hair pins was missing several…

"So much for using the floo." Hermione muttered stepping out, wondering where and how in Merlin's beard Minerva had summoned her robes from her wardrobe into her bathroom and dressed so quickly as she eyed the bed. She sighed and summoned her own robe, whether she wanted to be or not…she was awake and she had papers to finish.

"Elgin." She stated and at once the elf appeared at her side, "Would you please return me to my rooms." She cast a longing glance back to the devilishly comfortable bed and with a pop…it was gone and she was standing in her living room. A fire already lit…warming the chill of the room…

Hermione frowned as she turned to the fireplace as Milksy looked up, "I'se stoking the fire for the Professor Hermione."

Hermione smiled, "Thank you, Milksy." She stated as she turned towards her study. "If you have a minute and it's not too much of a burden perhaps some tea?"

Milksy nodded her head, "At once…"

Hermione paused as she entered her room and with a frown waved her wand, a fire instantly lighting in the grate not far from her desk. _I'll have to ask Minerva how she has automated her rooms…_she thought striding to the remaining essays waiting to be graded.

**break here break here**

Helena yawned for the third time in as many minutes, feeling as though her eyes had ants crawling along the inside. At that moment Minerva stood, and leaned over kissing Adam's forehead. "I'll be back later today." She whispered.

He opened his mouth, but Helena interceded. "Actually Adam, I'm sorry but it'll be tomorrow as you'll be sleeping all day and Minerva should be."

Adam knew better than to cross Helena regarding medical facts and gave a quiet rasp in response. "Then, I shall see you soon."

"Yes." Minerva replied standing upright. "Get some rest." She quietly intoned, and with a lingering gaze at the elder man, she stepped from the room, Helena in tow.

"I can't believe that…"

"Not here." Minerva hissed as they walked down the corridor. "Later."

Helena sighed, knowing that her friend was right, but her curiosity was killing her. "You're right of course." She stated as they walked side by side down the corridor, both women turning down the familiar hallway and after another handful of twists and turns they were stepping into Helena's office. "No wonder why I'm tired." Helena murmured noting that the first rays of the sun began to filter through the high arching windows.

Minerva's eyes darted to the windows and back to Helena, "How long until Horace is able to be discharged?"

"From St. Mungos or released to the care of another healer?" Helena inquired already knowing the answer.

"To Hogwarts." Minerva succinctly replied.

Helena shook her head, "Minerva…it hasn't even been a day."

"And I don't want him here." She snapped back, "He's too exposed."

"You don't honestly believe that Horace is in danger." Helena's voice rose an octave higher at the notion.

Minerva squelched down her own unease, "Yes, Helena. I do."

"If you believe what he said…Even Hogwarts isn't safe." Helena quietly breathed, still wanting to disbelieve the conversation she had overheard between Minerva and Horace.

"Believe what Horace had to say," Minerva's gaze had turned icy, "He may embellish regarding acquaintances, past or current associations, but not in regards to Hogwarts safety."

"You are telling me that what Horace and Adam said were true?" She asked, suddenly feeling very nauseas.

Minerva blinked the tears from her eyes, "Yes." She quietly breathed. "It is."

Helena's throat becoming instantly dry, "Minerva, you…" She came around her desk, "You…" Head shaking, "Can't…return." She stopped directly in front of her dearest friend, tears in her blue eyes. "He's…"

Minerva's jaw tightened, "Neither Horace or Adam's words should have been surprising, Helena." Her thick Scottish brogue lacing her words. "And I am aware that Johannes is seeking any means he can to find a way through the wards including using the blood of eight magical creatures."

"The wards is not my concern," Helena breathed, "But _your _life is."

"My life is based upon how well the wards hold, Helena. Because once he is through, then he can kill me." Minerva stated.

Helena threw her hands into the air, exasperated. "God dammit Minerva. How can you be so cavalier about your life?"

"It is only a matter of time, Helena before he and I meet. I know it as well as he, though I'd prefer sooner than later and you know why. It has nothing to do with being frivolous…just realistic."

"Realistic." Helena's voice rising, "From what Horace stated, Johannes has someone within Hogwarts who will take your life."

"Then I shan't have to worry about facing Johannes."

"For Merlin's sake, be serious." Helena snapped. "I'm talking about your life."

Minerva stepped closer, "I realize that, Helena." Her voice becoming hard, "I also realize that I can't be everywhere or guard against everything. I do however know the warding structure of Hogwarts and the best possible way to defend it, and those within it. I also know that he _wants_ to find a way to either kill me or capture me, and he will do whatever he can to accomplish either. As for him having someone inside Hogwarts, I don't foresee how but…" Her voice thick masking the tremble, "I do believe I am safe there."

"Aren't you the least bit worried?" She choked, a tear sliding down her cheek, "Or has your looming death finally numbed you?"

Minerva blanched at Helena's words, and her voice trembled as she responded. "Of course I'm worried," She quietly whispered, "I'm terrified of what could happen."

Helena wrapped her arms around Minerva's thin frame, "God…Minerva." She clutched her dearest friend tighter, tears running down her cheeks as the words choked out from her lungs. "Please, be careful."

Minerva felt her own tears spill from her emerald eyes as she clutched Helena in return, "I will be…"

"You better be." Helena murmured, "Or I'll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself."

"Not much incentive." Minerva whispered into Helena's shoulder.

"Don't give up on me." Helena's voice cracking as she turned her head enough to kiss Minerva's cheek.

Minerva pulled back just enough, blue and green eyes meeting the other, love shinning from their eyes. "I haven't." She whispered as Helena's arms embraced her again.

Both women clutching the other…

One holding onto the other, helping her to maintain being grounded…to realize that people still cared…still loved…that the world wasn't so bleak…that she couldn't imagine a world where her best friend didn't live in it with her…

The other grasping onto her as though her life depended upon it…

**break here break here **

Hermione heard the distinctive gait, as did several of the other professors as heads turned around to see Minerva enter the Great Hall. Hermione noticed that she was still wearing her outer cloak as it fluttered around her shoulders and legs. _She must have just returned, _Hermione thought as her eyes swept over Minerva's tired countenance.

Green eyes jerked over landing upon her own, and she gave her a brief nod before pulling her chair out and sitting between Filius and Marx. Hermione was about to return to her meal, but paused as a rolled parchment appeared at the lip of her plate.

Frowning, Hermione's fingers pulled it to her as Poppy gave her a questioning look. "I didn't realize the post came in."

Hermione rolled it over in her hands, no seal was there, and she felt a wave of apprehension as to how it had suddenly appeared and who had written it. "It hasn't." Hermione replied as she unfurled the parchment, immediately recognizing Minerva's handwriting.

_A & H both had correlating facts. Threat imminent at Hogwarts; trying to collapse wards. Expressed traitor in the walls._

_ Regarding last eve, thank you. I shall endeavor to sleep a bit today._

_ M ~_

Hermione reread it, and then banished it to her rooms. She would find some time between classes today to clarify with Minerva what Horace and Adam meant by an imminent threat. In addition, she would inform Minerva that she would be over this evening to give her a sleeping draught before she fell asleep standing up.

**break here break here**

Rory jumped forward as the rock exploded behind him, pelting his back and legs as pebbles rained down. "Ugh…" His feet skidding down the rock face as he scrambled along the rough terrain, another bolt of magic shattering where his feet had just been.

He felt the burn in his legs as he pushed on, sweat pouring down his back, face...as he sprinted upward, another string of curses and hexes spiraling around him.

"Where are the centaurs Wallace?" Came a curdling cry. "McGonagall would have only trusted a few people, where'd you hide them?"

Rory felt the grass and rock dig into the back of his leg as he slid down the ground, his kilt shifting as he snapped his head around, drops of sweat dripped off his black hair. He could see two wizards trailing after him, there gait slowing…fatigue evident.

He shouldn't have stopped at McGreggor's this morning, nor have had a few drinks before making his way back. The rain of dirt and rock broke his thoughts…as his left hand tightened upon his wand.

Rory sprang to the right, taking the opportunity to fire several hexes in return before he was again behind another rock as his side impacted into tree branch, instantly feeling a warmth spread down her side. "Damn." He muttered as he reached down and pulled the wood from his skin.

"Tell us and we'll let you live." Came a raspy voice.

Rory reached over and yanked his shirt-sleeve, it gave way and he jumbled it up and placed it over the wound, holding it against his side with his right arm. "How about you return from whatever rock ya came out from and I willna kill ya."

"There are two of us and every time you run farther uphill, you risk exposing yourself to us. And it will only be a matter of time before we kill you."

Rory glanced up the hill and then to the left and right. He loved the highlands…but today, he wished he had been in the low country…purely for tactical reasons, because whether he wished it or not…the other wizard was right, he was in a shoddy spot to be sure…

**break here break here**

Hermione opened the door, expecting to see Minerva sitting in her living room, papers in hand, but found the area empty. She stepped into the area, waiting and after a few seconds walked through the doorway, hand upon the brass banister, eyes sweeping her office. She was not there either.

Frowning, Hermione turned back around. "Minerva?" She stated, and after another handful of seconds at not seeing or hearing Minerva began making her way to the stairwell. She was about to enter, when she paused. "Elgin."

At once, the elder house elf appeared. "Professors Granger."

"Why did the gargoyle permit me to come up without the Headmistress being here?"

His brows knitted together, "She's is here." He nodded towards her room, "She's laying down, reading."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the fabled door, "Then she is awake?"

"Yes." He stated, "Is you'se needs anything else?"

"No." Hermione said as she gave Elgin a gentle smile. "Thank you."

Elgin gave a nod and vanished at once, Hermione already striding forward.

**break here break here**

Pointing his wand downward, he shot a spell into the ground…hoping that one of the elves was watching the warding lattice of the property. He was barely two miles into the McGonagall property line, but those two miles meant that he couldn't apparate away and the last five minutes he had seen his tactical position lessen exponentially.

Another bolt whizzed by his head, dirt flying everywhere as he blindly shot back at the five wizards now there.

Despite having crushed another wizard less than a minute ago, four more wizards hand finally caught up to them.

"You're rapidly running out of cover." One of them sneered.

"Aye…but, your running outta wizards." Rory wheezed out as he gritted his teeth, eyes glancing down to his side noticing that he had bled through his sleeve. "Just bloody great." He muttered to himself as he reached over and ripped his other sleeve off and jammed it against his side.

Then he heard a pop…and he jerked upwards, hand snapping his wand up as he pushed himself backwards…to see Bonnie's wonderful blinking eyes. "Bonnie…" He lunged forward pulling her forward and down as a stream of curses shot through the air, one singing the top of his right arm as he brought her to his chest.

And before his back struck the rocky earth, there was a pop and he landed upon the lawns in front of the Manor.

"Is Master Rory alright?" She asked as she began standing.

He took a few deep breaths, "Yes." He said, sitting upright, eyes instantly sweeping over the Matron. "Are you?"

Bonnie's long fingers brushed off her top and skirt, "Yes."

He pulled the sleeve from his side, and at once tied it around his forearm before ripping his shirt off his chest the cold air licking his hot sweaty skin. "Can you tie this around my chest?"

Bonnie immediately took the shirt and nodded, "Are you not getting medical treatment?"

He lifted his arms, "After I handle the small problem on the south side of the property."

She tied the shirt, and with a wave of her hand, it tightened. "I'se gets the Mistress."

He dropped his arms, "Thank you." He stated and picked his leg up, yanking his dagger from its sheath. "If you could take me to a position a quarter mile south of where I was, the beginning of the cliffs."

Bonnie knew better than to argue with the Master, he had protected the property for years. "Very well." She said reaching outward, fingers wrapping around the cloth of his arm. "Be careful, Master Rory."

He nodded, "Tell Minerva to approach from the west, we'll pin them between us."

"At once." And then they were gone.

**break here break here**

Hermione gently knocked upon the door, and at hearing no answer opened the door. "Min…" The rest of Minerva's name died upon her lips as her eyes landed upon the long black tresses spread across the white pillow, Minerva's fingers white knuckled around the fabric…as tremors racked through her muscles, though her eyes remained closed and the woman fast asleep. Hermione summoned Minerva's glasses, and then the pile of the correspondence that lay partially beneath her arm. Carefully, she placed them both upon the table and was about to leave when a pop echoed in the room.

Hermione's head snapped around to see a slightly disheveled Bonnie, worry immediately coursing through Hermione's veins upon seeing a series of blood splattering upon her usually crisp shirt.

"Mistress…" Bonnie began but stopped upon seeing Hermione, and her eyes darted to the Mistress lying in the bed and the woman before her. She knew that Master Rory needed help and had asked for the Mistress…but…

Bonnie also knew that she had not been sleeping…at all…and…she knew that the Mistress had been training the witch in front of her…

Mistress had also told her last week that if something happened upon the property, that if she or Rory was unavailable, Hermione would be the next best option or Harold.

"You…" She reached forward, "Master Rory…needs help." She grasped Hermione's hand. "Grabs your wand."

Hermione blinked, mouth opening…

"Your wand." Bonnie hissed, eyes darting to where she knew Hermione kept it.

"Minerva…"

"We's go." Bonnie said as Hermione's hand fell to her wand, and as her fingers wrapped around it…Minerva's chambers fell away.

**break here break here**

Rory darted up the side of the hill at a speed that belayed his age, hands helping to steady his body as he made quick work on covering the rocky terrain. Unlike a half hour ago when he had clambered up the hill, it was at his own speed and not weaving in between eight wizards blistering spells who were trying their damnedest to stun or maim him.

As he leapt upward, the fingers of his left hand pushed off another rock face, his thumb keeping his wand palmed within his hand…his boot knife in his right hand scraping along the rock as his muscles in his legs thrust himself forward…eyes noting the dark burn marks from errant spells that had missed their mark less than an thirty minutes prior.

He shifted his forward progress from the rock faces to the slick moss growing upon the north side, his footsteps immediately becoming muffled as he altered his breathing pattern…shortening his gasps…as he breathed in through his nose and quietly exhaled out his mouth…morphing into a silent hunter…grey eyes seeking his prey…

**break here break here**

Bonnie knelt down as soon as they appeared on the south quadrant of the property, Hermione joining her. "Master Rory is saying you'se is to come from the west."

Hermione gave a nod, as she took a steadying breath. "Very well." She gazed out into the unsteady terrain. "Do you know how many wizards?"

Bonnie shook her head, "At least four." Her tiny voice stated.

"Right." She quelled the shake of her hand, "And why didn't we bring Minerva?"

"She is sleeping." Bonnie stated matter a factly, "And she is being needing to sleep."

"Alright…" Hermione could feel the cold already seeping into her skin, "Bonnie…" She adjusted the end of her wand within her hand, "I…" She tilted her head up to the waning sun, "Please return to Hogwarts and have Elgin find Filius."

"Hermione?" Bonnie questioned, "I'se not understand."

"I'm to be in class within the next twenty minutes and I doubt I'll be back in time. And it needs to be covered."

Bonnie's large yellow eyes blinked as they met brown ones. "I's takes care of Hogwarts. You'se must have to help Rory takes cares of the grounds."

Hermione nodded, "Is there any way for me to signal you if needed?"

"Take and shoot a message into the warding. A house elf will hear you." Her fingers already forming into a snap…

"Wait…" Hermione reached out. "What do you mean shoot into the warding? How do I do that?"

Bonnie reached out, hand grasping the witch's wand arm and pointed the wand to the ground. "Aim here with a message."

Hermione's brows narrowed, "As in a patronus?"

"Mistress' message comes as a cat."

"Mine will be an otter." Hermione stated as she raised her fingers, blowing a bit of warm air upon them.

Bonnie gave a nod and with a snap, left Hermione along the highland hillside.

**break here break here**

Rory could hear several voices as his hand wrapped around the thick oak branch and he swung forward, landing in the middle of the dead run…as he flipped his knife around in the palm of his hand. He lunged forward, cold air burning his lungs as his body jutted out from behind the cover of the rocks…right hand flipping the dagger and in the next heartbeat his left one casting two spells at the remaining wizards.

His body slamming into the rock face as the dagger sunk into one wizard's neck, the two other spells striking the rusty robed man. The last wizard spun around, "He's behind us!"

Rory's leg pushed him backwards as the navy robed wizard was already casting two cruciatus curses back at him, bolts causing the ground to burst apart.

**break here break here**

Hermione ran forward, feeling her heart hammering in her chest as she scrambled westward. The air was cold, winter was coming fast…she could smell the pine hanging in the air, mixing with fresh scent of the earth…

_ It would be lovely to walk this area of the property_, Hermione mused. It was so different than where McGonagall Manor stood. It was…what she had always read about, traditional highland country.

The rocky hillsides laden with crumbling limestone, the north side covered with moss, large willowy stalks of grass…and she was sure that in the spring and summer, it was covered with wild flowers.

Hermione scrambled ahead and felt her stomach drop and her right hand tighten upon her wand as she heard a series of shouts coming from ahead.

There were two wizards, one in olive green robes the other black, clambering downwards, diving between spells that were being cast from the east. A navy wizard was trying to shoot and keep Rory pinned down as he made his way to where two other men lay. One of them obviously dead, a puddle of blood upon his chest and the ground.

With a quick flick and two words, a silver bolt shot forward…the navy wizard fell forward.

Rory heard the thud, "To the north." He said, knowing that Minerva had just arrived, feeling a sense of relief sweep over him…now, it was a matter of time and they would be laughing about this over a bottle of port later this evening. He cast another series of spells, his chest pulling…

_Perhaps two bottles…_he thought ruefully, wishing he had one now to begin to dampen the ache.

"I see…" Hermione replied as she scaled higher upon the hill to improve her position.

Rory frowned, _that isn't Minerva_, he thought, shooting two spells north as he glanced westernly and was surprised to see a mane of brown hair and midnight blue robes. _Hermione?_ His ruminations were disrupted as a series of arrowheads flew towards his body…

**break here break here**

"No." Bonnie stated shaking her head, "She needs to sleep."

Elgin nodded, "Yes, but…she needs to be woken, Bonnie." His voice turning grave, "Despite her not sleeping."

"Deputy Filius can cover…"

Elgin cut off her words, "He cannot cover, he has class in ten minutes." He laid his worn fingers upon Bonnie's knobby ones. "I's have to wakes her, Bonnie."

Bonnie's shoulders slouched, "She is so tired, Elgin."

He gave a singular nod, "I knows, dear." He whispered.

Two sets of large worried yellow eyes stared at each other, "Just this once…" Came Bonnie's soft plea.

His shoulders slouched, "I's cannots." He swallowed hard, "Nor can you. She trusts us."

Bonnie blinked the tears back in her eyes and nodded. As one, they apparated into Minerva's private chambers, both reaching out, "Mistress…" They stated in unison…as their hands touched Minerva's arm.

**break here break here**

Hermione could no longer feel her fingers as she cast a protego charm, an avalanche of rocks pinging against the charm.

"We'll get you Granger!" Came the last wizard's cry as Rory dove to the left to avoid the avalanche.

"You have to get out of here first." Hermione yelled back as she continued dodging the wizard's spells as she darted northwards.

"I will…" He snapped as he flicked his wand skywards, bolts of lightning now raining down.

Both Rory and Hermione barely avoiding the electrical charges that danced along the air…static energy crackling along the air…

Hermione rolled over and with an arcing wave summoned the ground beneath the wizard's feet…four tons of earth came roaring towards her…and as the man plummeted to the ground…she cast the earth away…

Rory was already sending a stunning spell forward…

The wizard's motioned…and as his feet struck the ground…the spell caught his shoulder…and he vanished in a soft pop…

"Damn." Hermione snapped standing fully upright, eyes landing upon Rory. Blood and sweat running down his broad chest…

"Are ya alright?" His thick voice ringing out in the now still air.

"Nothing a potion won't cure." Hermione replied frown still upon her face, "Looks like you need to see a healer."

He gave a nod as he scrambled across the rock face…stopping on his way to check the wizards' pulses. "You have managed two prisoners." He said straightening up, a grimace upon his face. "Now…" He passed his wand over the two men still alive, and strode away and met Hermione a twenty paces away. "What in blazes are ya doing here? Bonnie was ta get Minerva."

**break here break here**

Minerva blinked at Bonnie and Elgin, trying to quell her anger as she stood, hair spinning into a bun as she summoned her glasses. "Where did you take them?" Her crisp words ringing off the stone walls.

Bonnie met the Mistress' stern gaze, "The south western boundary."

She grasped her wand, "How many wizards…"

"Master Rory…"

"The number, Bonnie." Minerva's voice cutting off Bonnie's.

Her ears fell as she replied, "At least four more."

Minerva's eyes glanced to the clock and inwardly cursed, class was to start in two minutes. "I understand why you did what you did, Bonnie. But, in the future, I ask that you please awaken me."

"We both is very worried about your sleeping, Mistress." Bonnie stated, heartfelt. "And I didn't want to waken you, for that I am sorry. But you were sleeping, Mistress…"

"I know," She quietly replied, still feeling exhausted despite having slept for an additional hour and a half. "But until the threat is eliminated, my health is a secondary priority. Hogwarts, the Manor, Ridge and the family are our primary. Is that understood?"

Both Elgin and Bonnie nodded, chorusing. "Yes, Mistress."

Minerva donned her glasses, kneeling before her tiny friends, bringing their gazes level. "I trust each of you to remember that as the year unfolds, my health will continue to wane…and despite your inclinations to protect me, the others _must _be protected first."

Large droplets fell from Elgin and Bonnie's eyes as they nodded. "We's understands, Mistress." Elgin quietly stated as Bonnie's hand slipped into his.

A tender smile shone in Minerva's eyes, "We'll get through this." She whispered, placing her two hands upon their arms. "Now…" She stood, "Bonnie, I will return momentarily, and want you to take me to where you took either Rory or Hermione."

Bonnie's white head nodded as Minerva vanished and strode through the door to the Transfiguration classroom.

"Good afternoon." She stated, drawing a flurry of looks to her as she glided up the aisle. "I believe you all have homework assignments, please place them on the edge of your desk."

Minerva spun on her heel, her robes flourishing around her as gazed at the fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. "Today, we will be learning how to transfigure animate objects into moving inanimate ones." She drew her wand between her fingers as her brow arched upwards, "Can anyone tell me what makes this aspect of transfiguration so incredibly difficult?"

Her eyes swept over the room…no one moved and she cringed inwardly knowing that time was of the essence. "Perhaps…a seven foot essay describing…"

At once three hands shot into the air…and within another five minutes all of the students were furiously scribbling the notes upon the chalkboard. "I shall return momentarily." Minerva stated walking through the classroom, her steps clipping quickly and no sooner had the door closed and she was gone…

**break here break here**

"I happened to be there, and…" Hermione stared at Rory, not wanting to lie, but also knowing that if she told the truth…he would question her about that too and pry into Minerva's lack of sleep. "Bonnie asked me to come."

Rory's mouth quirked downward, "And what of your classes?"

"They are being covered…"

He leaned forward, leg bending upwards as his kilt fell upon his waist as he placed his large hand upon his thigh. "I do na believe Minerva would permit you to leave until the afternoon classes were concluded. So, where is Minerva?"

Hermione sighed, "Sleeping. No." She stated, holding up her hands, stalling his interruption. "Rory, please listen…and…anything I tell you…_has_ to be in confidence."

He narrowed his grey eyes, "Minerva trusts you, and has even warded the grounds to accept you." He pursed his lips in thought, "I will keep in confidence whatever you have to say, but…I cannot guarantee that I shan't act upon it."

Hermione nodded, "Fair enough."

"Now, why was she sleeping?"

"Because she hasn't been." Hermione replied.

He frowned, "What do you mean, she hasn't been?"

Hermione quickly summarized Minerva's lack of sleep over the last five weeks, a storm growing in his grey eyes the longer she spoke.

"Why haven't you gone to Helena? And why hasn't Minerva for that matter?" Rory growled.

"Because she told me in trust, and as for the second one, I haven't asked and you would have to ask her…"

Minerva morphed from her tabby cat into her human form, causing both the witch and wizard to jump backwards, wands in hand. "I haven't been sleeping since the Hukbar, Rory." She stated openly, eyes boring into his. "As for Helena, with everything else going on, I don't want to worry her further."

His jaw rippled, "You need to sleep, Minerva."

"I am well aware of that fact." She tartly replied.

The anger ebbed from his grey eyes as he met emerald ones, "Have you tried…"

"Everything." Her crisp tone cutting off his remarks, "And Hermione has been kind enough to sit with me while taking a dreamless draught. Now," She nodded to the men, "How many are still alive?"

"Two." He replied, knowing that she had shifted the topic for a reason, one he would respect and discuss it with her in detail, later.

"Rory, can you take them to the Ministry?"

He gave a nod, "Of course. What do you want to do with the bodies of the other wizards?"

"I'll speak with Helena, and have them taken to St. Mungos."

"I can…" Hermione began, but Minerva's caustic voice cut across her own.

"You…have class."

The coldness of the air seemed to suddenly seep into her heart at the harsh tone, "I…didn't mean…"

"Monday I told the Board of Governors that you conducted your classes with the utmost care and precision and prized the students safety and welfare above all else. And less than a week later, you have abandoned your job…"

"You were sleeping." Hermione rebuked, "Which is unto itself a rarity and before I had a chance to say a word, Bonnie brought me here. I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, Minerva…" Brown eyes flashed in anger, "But, dammit to hell, what is the point of conducting all that training? If you trust me enough to be warded to enter your property and go with you on what others would deem suicidal missions, why not this?"

"It's..." Her voice dropped, "Not that I don't trust you Hermione. But you and I cannot stand out anymore than we all ready are."

"Assisting Rory isn't standing out…"

"Missing your classes is." Minerva replied, her tiredness beginning to lace her voice. "I am due back at Hogwarts," She stated, "Please, go to the Manor and ask Bonnie for the first aid kit and have her assist in tending to your wounds."

"She can accompany me to St. Mungos…" Rory's voice died away as Minerva turned to her.

"I can't have Hermione seen outside of Hogwarts during class hours, not after Monday's meeting."

Hermione frowned, "Monday?" She thought back, recalling the warding and their conversation, but what did… "What else happened at the Governor's meeting?"

"Get yourself tended to Rory." Minerva said, pulling her cloak from her shoulders and tossing it to him. She glanced to Hermione, "Thank you for helping Rory." And she turned on her heel before either could say a word and lunged forward, her tabby form bolting across the terrain at a break neck speed.

Both witch and wizard watched for a heartbeat before turning to the other, "Thank you, Hermione." Rory rumbled lifting Minerva's cloak upwards and at seeing a shiver pass through the young witch tossed it to her, "Here."

Hermione caught the light silver cloak in mid-air, "You don't even have a shirt on."

"Go ahead." He rumbled, "I have lived up here my whole life, I'll be fine for a bit longer."

"Not with all the blood you have lost." She stated, eyeing the large bloody patch along his ribcage.

"Helena will be in a right fit when I see her," He chuckled, "But I have to say, you are a bit of a surprise."

"I'm not following." Hermione replied as she drew the cloak about her shoulders, feeling the remnants of warmth from Minerva's body heat already spreading across her own cool body.

He placed his albino colored wand into a leather holder along the band of his kilt, "Standing up to Minerva." He ran his left hand through his damp hair, "You…are a unique witch. And it is easy to see why you have befriended her." A smile lighting his smoky eyes, "And why she asked you to assist her."

Surprise clearly evident upon her face, "You know that I…"

He nodded, "Aye. I do."

"Who else knows?"

"I'm sure other than myself, the only other persons would be Helena and perhaps Harold."

She could see his strength waning as he gripped the tree for support, "What do you need to do to take those men to the Ministry?"

"Aye, in a minute." He breathed, "How many times has she taken the draught?"

"Last night, but she was called to St. Mungos and the other time was last Friday evening."

Worried eyes met Hermione's, "She partook in a Hukbar ceremony almost three decades ago. She and Albus had a very difficult time overcoming the effects, and that happened before she found Esmerele upon the grounds."

"Do you know any of the specifics of what they did?" Hermione questioned.

"No, but…" His rich voice softening, "I will stay with her this weekend and see if we can get her a bit of sleep between the two of us."

"Then you aren't going to tell Helena?" She asked pulling the cloak a bit tighter around her arms, wondering how in the world he wasn't cold.

"Only if it persists." He stated, "Now…" He whipped his wand out and with a muttered spell, a silver bolt shot into the ground. "To the Ministry."

At once a young elf with blond hair in a tartan tea towel arrived, "Master Rory?"

"Please take Hermione to the Manor and return. I am in need to be apparated off the property."

He glanced upwards to the witch beside Rory, "Lady Hermione. A pleasure."

Rory's brow arched upwards at Teng's comment as he mouthed, _Lady. _"It seems you have made an impression upon not only Bonnie, but the rest of the elves in Minerva's employ."

Teng nodded, "Lady Hermione is helping the Mistress and has been most kind to our brethren." He reached up, "Teng, Lady."

"Nice to meet you." Hermione replied extending her hand.

"And you." He genuinely replied. "And to the Manor."

Hermione felt a burst of magic across her skin, and then she was standing along the front lawns of the Manor.

**break here break here**

Minerva glanced down at her charcoal colored fingers. "Damn." She murmured as the prickling sensation of Hogwarts magic began licking her skin. "Elgin."

"Yes, Mistress." He and Bonnie were staring at her.

"A pepper up potion and a pair of black gloves."

He gave a nod, "At once."

"Bonnie," She turned to her Matron elf, "Hermione is returning to the Manor, please assist her with her wounds."

"Will you be returning to the Manor this evening?" Bonnie inquired.

"After classes." Minerva replied as Elgin reappeared, and at once she upended the bottle, hands quickly taking and donning the gloves as Hogwarts magic pulsed over her body.

"Will you be staying the night?"

"Please see that the my room is made."

"Of course." She stated and was about to snap her fingers and Minerva thought of a detail almost overlooked.

"And while tending to Hermione, please have some of my personal items brought from the Ridge, including a few portraits of the family."

"Mistress?" Bonnie inquired unsure she had heard the Mistress correctly.

"It will not do to have Hermione believe that I do not keep residence there." She absently flexed her hand, "Elgin…" She turned to the usually stately elf, "Please go with Bonnie and assist. Helena will be appearing later to help collect some bodies."

"At once, Mistress." He said, but extended out his hand. "But, befores I go, I'se take you to the class."

"For once," She wrapped her hand around his, "I won't argue."

He gave her a brief nod and then she was standing outside the doorway. With a few waves of her wand, her robes and hair appeared as though she had just stepped out to have a friendly chat with Filius. Gloved hand reached out and opened the door…

**break here break here**

Hermione frowned as she gazed about the study…for the first time truly taking her surroundings in and noticed that…it lacked…personal touches. She walked around the room, looking at the pictures…the drawings…

They were of landscapes…and before she could move to another room Bonnie appeared beside her. "Mistress asks that I help you."

Hermione opened her mouth to say that it was unnecessary, that she would be fine, wanting to move into one of the other rooms to see if her suspicions were true and that the rest of the Manor was lacking the same anti-personal touches. She tried to think back to her earlier visits; only remembering the only family portraits hanging upon the third floor hallway, there were no other pictures of her family, husband, children, grandchildren…nor gifts…just books, antique furniture…as though…a show house…

Her thoughts were interrupted as Bonnie pulled open a first aid kit, setting it before her, as blinking eyes gazed upwards. "You will need to remove your shoulder from your robes."

Hermione pulled her wand out and with a wave, the seam split revealing a deep purple bruise and a seeping wound. Her eyes observing the damage along her collarbone, she had known when the rock had struck her arm it had stung; but seeing the wound she now knew why it ached so.

"Tssst." Bonnie muttered at seeing the shoulder, "You is just like Mistress." Her knobby fingers pulled an ointment forward, "This will take away the pain."

"What did you mean by being like Minerva?" Hermione asked as small fingers gently touched her skin.

"You is both put others before yourself." Bonnie replied as she put additional ointment onto her fingers. "And of course, there are the injuries that you seem to collect along the way."

Hermione felt herself suck in a deep breath of air as Bonnie's fingers brushed across the wound. "I don't know what you mean." Bonnie's face soured at the response, and gently pushed the area causing Hermione to wince. "Perhaps, I was wrong."

"Tha mi duiluch." Bonnie quietly said.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm sorry." Bonnie replied, "Didn't mean to slip into Gaelic."

"You speak with Gaelic?"

"All the elves in Mistress' employ does." Bonnie handed a small opaque green bottle to Hermione. "Drinks this."

Hermione frowned, "What is it?"

"A healing potion." She casually replied as she closed the kit. "It will still be sore for another day, perhaps two."

"Thank you, Bonnie." Hermione stated, resealing the seam along her shoulder. "Do you know if I am to remain here until after class before returning to Hogwarts?"

"Mistress is going to be coming to the Manor this evening."

"Really?" She asked slipping her wand into her robes.

"I'se to prepare dinner." Bonnie said blinking.

Hermione nodded, "Then perhaps I'll go to the library."

"You is most welcome to." Bonnie stepped away from Hermione and the sofa.

"Bonnie," Hermione's voice stopping the elder elf.

"Yes?" She paused, head turning.

"Why is there so little of Minerva's personal effects at the Manor? Does she have another home?"

At the poised question, Bonnie know understood the Mistress' statement, but she kept her face non-reactive and responded truthfully albeit obliquely. "There is many effects spread throughout the Manor, Miss Hermione. She, likes you, lives at Hogwarts too."

**break here break here**

With a shaky hand…Minerva entered her chambers, exhausted. She eyed her sofa longingly, as a flurry of owls hovered around her desk. With a wave of her wand, the owls became suspended and another flick…she summoned the parchments. Another wave…and a bowl filled with treats appeared and as she dropped her wand, the owls rushed to the bowl before a mass exodus swept out of her rooms.

Her eyes landing upon the pile of parchments…and she sighed, deeply.

"Tily." At once the tiny elf appeared beside her.

"Yes, Mistress." She replied, blinking at the exhausted face of her Mistress.

She swept to her desk, "I…" Drawing a blank piece of parchment from her drawer. "Need you to take a letter to the Manor."

"Of course." She replied as she stepped up beside the desk as Minerva began to frantically scratch across the parchment…her gloved hand…sliding with ease, ignoring the pain in the tips of her fingers.

Within a minute, she was returning her quill to the inkwell and rolling up the parchment. "Here." She said handing it to Tily. "This is to go to Hermione. And ask Bonnie to bring Rory here if possible."

Minerva was already beginning to open her correspondence as Tily popped away…

**break here break here**

Hermione had returned close to four hours prior, but she had to take one of her cubs to the Hospital Wing before she had an opportunity to see Minerva and was just now stepping off the spiral staircase…starring at the worn green door, hand already turning the handle…to be greeted by two fluid voices that immediately stopped as soon as they heard the door open.

"Good evening Hermione," Rory stated as she entered into the room.

"Hermione." Minerva stated giving a nod.

"I…" She glanced at Rory before turning to Minerva, "Was hoping to speak with you a minute."

Despite her overbearing exhaustion, Minerva's gaze flickered to Rory, "I'll be up shortly."

Rory met her tired eyes with his own and gave a nod. "Alright." He stood and pivoted, grey eyes landing upon Hermione as his voice rasped. "Again, thank you for earlier."

Hermione nodded, "My pleasure."

He cast one last look to Minerva and then to Hermione, "Please don't keep her long." He stated as his long stride quickly brought him to the staircase, "We're both exhausted." He uttered halfway up the steps and with a swish of his kilt, he was gone…and Minerva had already turned her penetrating gaze up to the younger witch.

"How is Miss Brown?"

Hermione absently placed her left hand upon the back of her chair, "Good, she finally woke about twenty minutes ago, but Poppy will be keeping her overnight for observation."

Minerva motioned to the chair, "I'll stop by in the morning."

Hermione stepped around the edge of the chair, sitting opposite of Minerva. "I will hope that you'll be sleeping."

A tired smile crossed her face, "I'm not harboring any hope, but I am trying to remain optimistic." She met the younger woman's burning gaze, "Thank you for going this afternoon."

Hermione knew that there was no optimal time to ask, but she _needed _to know. Needed to understand what had been said at the Governor's meeting and why she hadn't been told. And then there was the Manor, and the sudden appearance of several small pictures spread throughout. She would have remembered, at least one of them, wouldn't she have? But as she opened her mouth to confront her…the words died in her throat as she took in Minerva's over bearing fatigue…the Glamour having been removed and she instantly altered the course of the conversation. She would speak with Minerva about the Governor's meeting and the Manor, later. "What did you mean by Hogwarts having a traitor within the walls?"

"Horace overheard Douglass boasting that Johannes had a resource within Hogwarts that would either stun or kill me."

Hermione felt herself blanch, "Resource? What…" Her voice momentarily faltering, "Kind? And kill you? Inside Hogwarts?"

Minerva leaned back farther into her cushions, "It would seem that is his latest plan."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth twice before any words would come out, "And you aren't the least bit worried about that?"

"Not at the moment," She quipped, "I have had a few other items to deal with today."

Hermione was exasperated. "How can you…" She stood up, arms moving about, "Sit there as though Horace merely told you that you might catch the flu this season?"

"Now that might be cause for consternation."

Hermione stopped…and met mirth lined eyes, "How can you be so…so…damn indifferent?"

"Because, this is my home, Hermione." Sincerity lining her words as she continued on. "I have lived here for a long time and tend to know the comings and goings of Hogwarts better than most. Add into the equation that some of my dearest friends happen to work upon the grounds, and you are the only new addition to the staff this term." She pushed herself into a standing position and she leveled her gaze upon Hermione. "And I feel fairly safe in my presumption that I am in no danger around you."

"Of course." Hermione murmured, "But what of the other staff?"

Minerva sighed, feeling as though she was having the same conversation she had had with Helena…though now she felt…so much, older. Perhaps it was because she…was so much older than Hermione…whereas she and Helena were of the same age, "I have worked with close to two-thirds of them for longer than you have been alive, dear. As for the other third, only 10 began employment here since my appointment as Headmistress and one of those you and another Neville."

"Clemons, Marx, , Viktor…"

Minerva interrupting, "Unless he is inferring that one of the spouses of the ex-professors is the threat."

"How many of the professors in the north wing do you know?" Hermione immediately felt her apprehension increase, the threat could be far more severe than even she thought.

"No." Minerva said, frowning. "I refuse to believe that any of the professors or ex-professors would try and…"

"And what if one afternoon you come around the corner and are greeted by the Avada Kedavra curse?"

"Is it truly any different than stepping out of a shop on Diagon Alley and meeting the same fate?"

Hermione sighed, "Were there any other clues as to how this is supposed to happen?"

"No, and frankly, the larger concern was the correlating facts Adam and Horace had regarding another attack upon Hogwarts."

Hundreds of rampant thoughts shot through her head… _What if her children were here? What if one of the students were hurt? How in Merlin's beard could you protect the students? Would it be at night…day…? Did they somehow get the eight creatures? Even the centaurs…after all that Minerva went through? How do you get the Order here? What if Minerva was away…_

"From the expression upon your face, I see you are equally troubled with the notion."

Hermione blinked, "Do we know how…or when this…?"

Minerva shook her head, biting back a yawn. "No. But, from what Horace can remember, the goal would be the same as before; try to obtain the Heart."

"Where is the Heart located?" Hermione questioned.

"Within the bowels of Hogwarts, through two access points." She paused, starring into brown, worried, eyes. "One is within the Head of Hogwarts suite."At once, Hermione's eyes left hers and darted around the office and then flickered to her private rooms. "It is not up there." Minerva stated, drawing the younger witch's gaze back to her. "But within _this_ office. The other is at the end of south corridor on the second floor."

"There is nothing there but a large Hogwarts flag upon the stonewall, suites of armor, and the emblems of the four houses." Hermione stated, immediately knowing the area Minerva was referring to, it was at the opposite end of Hogwarts…upon the same floor.

"It is there Hermione." Minerva stated, "Much like the one in this office, you merely need to know the incantation or know where to look."

"But…" She narrowed her eyes, knowing that if Minerva said a doorway existed within this office that she didn't know about, then it was there. But where?

Minerva watched Hermione for a long second and then stepped forward. "Give me your hand." She whispered, hearing a rustle from the portraits. She would speak with them tomorrow regarding her reasoning, if Albus didn't speak with them tonight.

Hermione reached out and felt cool fingers wrap around her own, another sign of how exhausted Minerva truly was.

Minerva nodded to the wall that housed hundreds of portraits, Hermione immediately glancing where she had indicated as a low magical tingle tickled the tips of her fingers…Minerva's voice barely audible as she whispered, "Lo delan."

Instantly the portraits and their frames along the lower 3 rows vanished, and appeared elsewhere in the room as a fifteen foot silver framed door appeared directly behind Minerva's desk.

"That…" Minerva let her hand fall from Hermione's, "Is where one of the doors is located. But, only the Deputy and Head would be able to enter as the Gargoyle will seal the stairs if both are not available."

"But when Dumbledore…"

"Albus, dear." Minerva kindly interjected drawing a hesitant look from Hermione prompting Minerva's inquiry, "Are you that uncomfortable in using Albus' name?"

Hermione's eyes darted to the portrait of the revered man, it was almost directly overhead having been momentarily moved from his usual resting place. "I…" She returned her gaze to Minerva, "It's just, different. I never knew him as anything other than the Headmaster or Professor Dumbledore and I was not a friend of his."

"But you are to me." Minerva stated, "And it would mean a great deal to me, if you would refer to him as Albus versus Dumbledore when we are in private."

Hermione gave a nod, eyes momentarily glancing upward to see the portrait give a wink, and she sighed. "I'll try."

"That is all I ask. Now, what were you about to ask?"

"When…Albus…left Hogwarts my fifth year, the Gargoyle wouldn't open for Umbridge and I thought it was sealed until he came back."

"The Gargoyle was, but do not forget the Deputy has ancillary means." Minerva nodded to the door that immediately appeared behind her brass staircase.

"The inner doors…" Hermione breathed out as Rory stepped onto the platform.

"Are ya about done?" He asked, "I dunna wanna be rude, but I had a wee bit too much fresh air for me own good."

Minerva chuckled, "Give me but a moment more." She said, lowering her gaze back to Hermione as he gave a nod and returned to her suite. "Thank you again, for earlier…"

"And I'm sorry I didn't wake you." Hermione's melodious voice barely reaching Minerva's ears.

Emerald eyes swept over the younger woman, _she was beautiful in this light_…Minerva inwardly blanched at her own thoughts; immediately focusing on the task at hand, and not how the light framed her face… "Get some rest, Hermione." Minerva said, nodding to the door, "Or you'll begin to look and feel as tired as I."

"Rory is staying with you tonight?" Hermione glanced up to the brass banister.

"And through the weekend." She replied, "Sleep well." She said, turning away and summoning her hat from the rack and with another wave, the door vanished…

"You too." Hermione stated, feeling somehow…off…as the portraits immediately realigned to their standard positions…even her children's drawing fluttered to beneath Snape's portrait.

_Just fatigue_, Hermione thought as she left the office.

Elgin set the glass of ice on the table next to Rory, pausing as the two conversed in Gaelic. He was nowhere near as talented nor a fluent as Bonnie, but he did love to listen to it being spoken…

_ "Are you sure you don't want to take the draught?"_ Rory questioned, blood shot eyes peering into hers.

_"I'm so exhausted right now Rory, that I'll sleep for a few hours without anything."_

_"Then you'll take it when you wake…"_

_ "Yes…"_ She said reaching over and turning her light off, the candles immediately extinguishing too. _"I will."_

He absently reached over, fingers grazing the metal…as Elgin popped away, _"I wish you would have said something sooner."_

_ "I didn't think it would affect me so." _Came her quiet reply as she pooled the pillow under her head.

_"I'm sorry it did, love."_ He said, reaching out, hand gently rubbing along her arm before lifting it to adjust his own pillows…but as she began to move again…he reached outward until he felt her skin…fingers curling around her arm. _"Come here…" _He whispered, remembering the first couple weeks after Esmerele had died…and how she wouldn't sleep…wouldn't let go…until one night, he had held her, tight to his chest...enabling her a moment of peace, and she had drifted off murmuring Albus' name…and each night thereafter for the next ten days as he held her...

_ "Rory…I'm fine…what are you…"_ She began protesting as he pulled her to him…but her objections died in her throat as he wrapped his arm around her…

_"I've got you, love." _He murmured into her soft hair. _"Just rest…" _He continued whispering until he felt her body begin to relax in his arms, hear her steady breathing...and within a handful of minutes, his breathing joined hers…both steadfastly asleep.

**break here**

A/N: Hope you enjoyed your present :) Merry Christmas!


	35. Chapter 33 November 7th, 2009

**Chapter 34 ~ November 7****th****, 2009 (Saturday)**

She felt like she was suffocating…couldn't breathe…and as her eyes opened, the darkness was thick, the weight heavy upon her as she tried to shove it away, gasping.

"Woah…" Came a muffled voice, thick, resonating, familiar. "Minerva…"

She felt arms tighten around her, hold her…

"It's Rory, love." His soft words whispering as her struggles lessened. "It's Rory."

Minerva felt herself nod as her eyes focused, "Sorry." She murmured into his shoulder, "I couldn't breathe."

Tears rolled down chiseled cheeks from grey eyes as he held onto his sister, "You were having a nightmare."

"Aye, I was." She said through a shuddering breath as his hand trailed down her back.

"Tessa?"

"No." Minerva whispered, willing the image of Samantha's startled face, Douglass' cutting eyes as the doorway to the heart appeared, curses streaming at her, the walls glowing. "Samantha."

Rory pulled back, grey eyes narrowing in the dark as he tried to see her face, concern swelling up in his breast. "Minerva." His voice soft, "What did you see?"

"Samantha running towards me," A row of candles flickered, casting a soft glow about the room, "Hogwarts was under attack, and Douglass was about to enter through a door into the depths of Hogwarts."

"And?" He prompted, knowing that is not what caused her to yell out and waken him.

Several heartbeats passed before green eyes shifted and met grey, "He killed her…" She said in a trembling voice, "And then I died killing him."

"Douglass is being held at the Ministry and is being moved to Azkaban the first of next week and he cannot hurt her…" His voice cracking, "Or you."

Minerva feigned a smile, pulling away from him. "They are so real, Rory." She stood up, her gown falling down her body framing the long lines of her back.

"You're still having them?" He flipped the covers back, swinging his legs of the bed as he cast a glance to the clock, it was just before four in the morning.

"Yes." Her eyes now raking over the familiar starlight grounds of Hogwarts. "But they have become darker and I have them with far greater frequency."

Rory stood and with a wave summoned his robe, "They are still _just _dreams."

She scoffed, "Do you believe I would view them as something more?"

A low chuckle slipped from his lips as he tied the belt around his waist, "No, but I also know that you had a series of dreams, that came true several years ago and I wanted to make sure none of these had."

A forlorn look passed over Minerva's face, her eyes glistening against the light. "God help me if these, any of these, become true Rory."

"Surely, they all haven't been bad."

A tear slipped off her lashes, leaving a solitary trail down her cheek as she closed her eyes, her Gaelic thick as she spoke. _"Yes." _Her voice drew inward, rumbling as images of Helena's bloody body or the curse flying towards her daughter and granddaughter filled her mind. _"They have."_

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Exasperated at herself, Hermione moved the mouse over and clicked, replay making sure she listened to the pronunciation of the days of the week. The voice streamed through the air, and at once she repeated it, but the words felt so foreign upon her lips and she was unsure if she was pronouncing the words correctly.

Sighing, she moved the mouse, clicking replay again, failing to hear Milksy appear behind her.

"Sunday ~ Didòmhnaich Latha na Sàbaid." The stilted computer voice stated.

Hermione repeated, "Didòmhnaich Latha na Sàbaid." Feeling a frown remaining upon her lips as she followed the prompts.

"Monday ~ Diluain."

"Diluain."

"Tuesday ~ Dimàirt."

"Dimàirt."

"Wednesday ~ Diciadain.

"Diciadain"

"Thursday ~ Diardaoin."

"Diardaoin."

"Friday ~ Dihaoine."

"Dihaoine."

"Saturday ~ Disathairne."

"Disathairne."

"Sounds likes you'se trying to learn the Mistress' language." Milksy said when the voice from the colored screen didn't speak anymore, blinking up at Hermione, tray of tea in hand. "You'se should ask Elgin to helps you'se or even Bonnie."

Hermione's head whipped around, "I thought you weren't bringing the tea up until after two?" She said, already beginning to close the laptop's screen.

"It's is quarter past, Professor's Granger." Milksy replied as she set the tray down, eyes sliding to the object where Hermione's hand still rested, "Why you'se stop?" Milksy asked, frowning. "You'se done?"

Guiltily, Hermione turned from Milksy back to the laptop. "No, I just…" With a sigh, she continued on. "I decided to learn Gaelic this fall, and I really don't want anyone to know."

At once, a broad smile broke across Milksy's tiny face. "You'se do wants to learn Mistress' language."

Hermione felt a smile pulling at her lips despite herself, "I wouldn't mind…"

"I'se gets…"

Hermione cut off Milksy's words with her own, "But I don't want anyone, especially Minerva to know."

Milksy's ears sunk a little, "Why'se you'se learn if, not to tells or speaks to her?"

Hermione didn't want to tell Milksy that she wanted to make sure if something happened to Minerva and she was incoherent, that Hermione wanted to be able to understand what Minerva was saying; that…and she wanted to surprise the older witch. Perhaps, one day…just be able to say hello and ask her how she is doing in Gaelic. "It's a surprise." Hermione found herself saying to the waiting house elf.

If at all possible, Milksy's grin became larger. "Bonnie's…" The tiny house elf murmured to herself, "I's go gets Bonnie…"

"Milksy…I don't…" The rest of Hermione's statement fell upon her own ears as distinctive pop resonated throughout her study, leaving her alone. "Great." Hermione muttered, "Just bloody great."

Hermione absently reached out and poured herself a cup of lemon tea, her thoughts on what Milksy was planning, but the thought was not long in coming as Bonnie appeared almost immediately beside her…large blinking yellow eyes level with her. "Milksy said you are wishing to learn Gaelic."

Hermione blinked, not quite sure how to answer the matron house elf. "I…"

"What's is you'se doing here?" Elgin asked, appearing to the side of Bonnie and Hermione, his gaze directed solely at Bonnie. "Mistress…"

"Does not know I am here." Bonnie interjected, "No one does, Elgin, save for you and Hermione."

"Why'se are you…"

"Milksy came to me and has given news that Hermione wishes to learn Gaelic."

At once Elgin's gaze turned from Bonnie to Hermione, eyes questioning and mildly judging. "Why'se?"

"I was about to ask that very question." She stated, yellow eyes turning Hermione. "As I find it hard to believe you would not have a reason for learning the language of the Mistress."

Hermione found herself staring into two sets of large opalescent unblinking yellow eyes awaiting her answer. An answer she didn't know how to phrase, nor exactly what to say. She knew their loyalty to Minerva was unwavering and if she stated her true reason, she was unsure of how they would react. "I…" She took a deep sip of tea, before starting again. "On October 3rd, and the events of that night, I witnessed Minerva injured and speaking in Gaelic and I…" She paused, tears blurring her vision as she recalled the night in which Minerva's words were ripped from her throat…words uttered in Gaelic… "And I never wish to hear words being spoken that I do not know nor understand."

Bonnie starred at Hermione, her eyes becoming worldly as they absorbed the chocolate ones meeting her gaze. They stared into hers for many minutes, searching…until she blinked once…twice…and took a step back. "I will train you." She stated, causing Elgin's eyes to open wide in shock and snap to her.

"Bonnie's…" He began but stopped as her eyes left Hermione's to land upon his, and they shared a long moment before he gave a solitary nod and quietly stating, "As will I'se."

Hermione knew that she had missed the relevance of whatever had passed between Elgin and Bonnie, and as Bonnie turned back to her; Hermione doubted that she would ever learn what it was. "As honored as I am, Bonnie, Elgin; I have other means in which to learn."

Bonnie smiled, "As Milksy stated, but we can assist you too."

Hermione reached over, opening the laptop and turning it on. "This will work…"

"If you do not wish to converse." Bonnie stated, her eyes narrowing at the devise. "Buts computers do not enable you to speak to it, merely practice phonetics."

Hermione's fingers paused upon the keyboard, knowing that Bonnie's words were true. "But why do you wish to help me?"

A slow, almost tender gaze swept over Bonnie's face as her eyes slid to Elgin and then back. "Because you are helping the Mistress."

Hermione felt her eyes narrow, "That isn't all…"

"No." Elgin said drawing next to Bonnie, "It is not." He stated simply before continuing on, "Would you'se like to practice before's the start of the day?"

"Aren't you going to tell me why you are helping me?" Hermione asked, wanting to know why.

Both house elves shook their heads, Bonnie finally verbally answering at Hermione's still quirked brow. "No."

"I don't understand….why?"

"You wish to learn Gaelic to help the Mistress." Bonnie stated, "We will help you learn it. While our motives may be different, in this instance, the result will remain the same. Do you accept our help?"

Befuddled at Bonnie statement, Hermione found herself nodding an absent yes; her mind desperately trying to understand what would motivate Bonnie and Elgin to assist her…and why neither were willing to divulge that information to her.

"Then we will begin on the morrow." Bonnie said and with a pop both Elgin and Bonnie disapparated.

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

"Helena said it will be another two days before you are well enough to travel." Minerva said as she handed Horace a cold glass of water, "Until then, your name has been pulled from the register…"

Horace shook his head, "Not good enough Minerva." The water glass shaking in his hand. "St. Mungos is not secure."

"If I were to listen to your advice, Horace. Then neither is Hogwarts." Minerva replied as she folded her hands onto her lap.

"Yes, well." He took a hearty swallow, "Hogwarts is far safer than anywhere else, and I won't be able to hide before I am well."

"She said it would be a few weeks."

He gave a nod, "At least."

"Horace, I can only keep Hogwarts safe as long as the wards hold." Minerva honestly stated.

"They said they had a way through the wards."

"There is a way to break through, though I am trying to stop them." She leaned closer, "When you were with them, did you hear anything regarding magical creatures or the death of them?"

"Yes." Horace cleared his throat, "The night before you rescued me." He sank deeper into his pillows as he thought back. "I overheard them talking about a young merperson they found…"

The rest of Horace's words momentarily blended into the background as the startling fact of another magical creature's death had come to pass making Johannes one step closer to being able to shatter the wards, granting him entry into Hogwarts.

She felt a hand upon hers, "Minerva?" Horace's soft voice pulling her back from her thoughts.

"Sorry Horace." She feigned a smile. "And no…" She thought back to his words, "While a merperson is a magical creature, I believe we are safe for the interim." Minerva watched as a smile crossed his lips, his body visibly relaxing at her half-true words; because they were safe, for now.

He gave a nod as he squeezed her hand, "Good to hear."

She patted his hand and stood, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Minerva."

"Get some rest, Horace." She replied as a swirl of emerald cloak billowed around her frame, hiding her from view as her thoughts remained riveted to Horace's startling piece of information and the conclusion of those events; they were rapidly losing ground as there were only four magical creatures left.

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Hermione felt a burst of warmth grace her cheeks as she stepped around the corner and her eyes landed upon Angelina. Gone were her usual maroon colored robes, she had replaced it with a maroon tunic and fitted black pants; her hair in an intricate braid as a gentle smile pulled at the corner of her lips. "Good evening, Hermione." Her voice barely reaching Hermione's ears through the bustle of Rosmerta's.

"Angelina." Hermione said smiling as she drew out a chair opposite of Angelina, before pulling off her cloak and draping it over the chair and sitting down.

"You look lovely." Angelina stated, her eyes sweeping across Hermione.

"Thank you." She replied, "As do you; nice tunic."'

"I don't often wear robes out." Angelina said as she sipped her firewhisky. "Where did you get that cloak?" Olive eyes drifting to the cloak draped over the chair next to Hermione. "That looks as though it's spun silk."

"It was a gift from Minerva."

Angelina's eyes immediately snapped back to Hermione's. "Really?"

"What will you be having tonight?" Rosmerta asked, gliding over to the table.

Hermione's eyes glanced over to the bar trying to read the labels along the shelf, "What type of Malt whisky do you have?"

Rosmerta's green eyes sparkled, "I see the Headmistress has began to corrupt another one of her staff."

Involuntarily, Hermione felt her world lighten at the mere mention of the Headmistress. "Expanded horizons perhaps."

"I have a few bottles of bronze and gold labeled Malt."

"I'll have a glass of bronze labeled malt." Hermione stated into the knowing eyes of Rosmerta.

"If it is that good," Angelina took another hearty sip of her glass, "Perhaps we'll forgo a glass and just work on the bottle."

Rosmerta quirked her brow and gave a nod to the two witches, "Very well."

"A gift, huh?" Angelina re-inquired, "For your birthday?"

Hermione shook her head, "No." She stated as Rosmerta set the bottle on the table along with two glasses. Both women said thank you as Rosmerta disappeared into the throng of people, and they returned to their conversation. "She gave me a bottle of malt whisky for my birthday."

"Both are nice gifts," Angelina reached outward taking the bottle and cracked the seal, "Then again, you and Harry were always close to McGonagall."

Hermione waited until the first glass was filled before reaching forward and taking the tumbler, "I daresay that I wasn't any closer than any other Gryffindor student while attending Hogwarts."

"Maybe not, but you outshined most others with your intellect and would make it hard for anyone not to notice you; especially a Professor who prizes that very characteristic." She pulled her own glass to her, "I have to admit, I was rather shocked to hear she had been married with four children." Angelina paused and gave Hermione a pointed look, "Has she ever told you who she was married to?"

_The smallest family with the largest secret_, Tessa's voice tickling her mind. "No, only that she was. Ginny and I took the time and researched the Prophet trying to find out who…" She paused taking a sip of the amber liquid and felt her eyes involuntarily drift close as the malt coated her mouth.

"And?" Angelina asked waiting, "What did you find out?"

"Nothing." Hermione replied as she finally opened her eyes, to find olive ones peering into hers; causing a stray thought to spark. "While we are on the topic, did you or the Ministry ever discover what other home the muggle man was trying to find?"

"I can't believe you didn't find – anything." She murmured, "Nothing?"

Hermione shook her head, "No."

"How far back did you go?"

"A few years before Minerva started teaching at Hogwarts."

"What about…?"

"You answer my question." Hermione interjected hoping to steer the conversation away from Minerva's family.

Angelina nodded, "Fair enough." She took a sip and paused, cocking her head as her eyes really looked at the liquid in the glass. "This is _really_ good." She raised her gaze, "Whose label is this?"

"Surprisingly, our esteemed Headmistress' family has a label."

"Really?"

Hermione nodded, taking another sip. "I can't say I've ever been one for whisky, but…" She twirled the tumbler in her hand, "I've begun to change my mind."

"I can see why." She murmured before taking another small sip, "We haven't had an ounce of luck determining whose house the muggle man was trying to find outside of McGonagall's Manor. We did ask her, as you know, if she had an idea as to whose home it was."

"And she didn't?" Hermione rhetorically asked, already knowing the answer; as her mind processed the information in conjunction with what she suspected regarding the Manor last evening.

"No." Angelina replied, "And it was rather odd too, for her not know of a home within England after all she has been at Hogwarts in some capacity or another for close to fifty years; how can she not know where people live?"

"What was her response when asked?" Hermione tried to recall the handful of letters with Angelina regarding the issue and found she couldn't remember what the bottom of the parchment had scratched across it.

"She didn't know and diverted the conversation to the muggle man who had been found holding the pictures."

"There haven't been any more?"

Angelina's voice dropped two octaves, "Yes, but we aren't publicizing it."

"What?" Hermione's voice screeching up the two octaves that Angelina's had dropped, but managed to reign in her voice as Angelina's mildly calloused hand slid atop her own. "Why haven't you, Harry, or someone brought this up at the Order meeting?"

"Harry assured me he has been keeping McGonagall informed."

"And?" Hermione felt her worry increase at what else Minerva was not sharing.

"As long as it merely remains those two homes, she isn't viewing it as a threat."

"Even though one of them is her own home?" Exasperation was leeching out of Hermione's voice.

A casual shrug made its way across the darker skinned witch, "She's at Hogwarts most of the time as it is, and she said her property has strong family wards that won't enable anyone to enter the Manor." She began lifting her glass, "Even Kingsley agreed with her."

Hermione bit back her retort on how odd she thought that sounded after everything that had recently transpired between the Minister and Minerva. Then again, the whole situation seemed, well…odd. Angelina was correct with her analysis that it was peculiar for Minerva not to know of a person's residence after having taught at Hogwarts for so long and having graduated over two generations of witches and wizards. Then again, she wouldn't know everyone in the wizarding world…but she definitely knew a large portion of it. And why in Merlin's beard wouldn't she worry about the Manor…

She blinked…

_Of course_, she thought. _How could I be so dense and not see what was starring me right in my face._

"You look as though you were the cat about to eat the canary."

"Huh?" Hermione asked trying to pull her thoughts back to the conversation at hand and not the startling realization that the second home; the one looking like it sat upon a ridge…another flash memory lanced through Hermione's mind…

_A picturesque landscape with a house atop a bluff…entitled 'The Ridge' in Minerva's living room…_

_ The blue scrawl across the bottom of a photo album, 'Christmas at the Ridge', words that had made little sense at the time…_

_ She had been more than correct last night, _Hermione realized._ Minerva didn't live at the Manor and all of its glory, for who knew what reasons…but rather…she and Dumbledore…Albus,_ she corrected herself_, lived at, the Ridge… _"I'm sorry, Angelina what did you say?"

_Where ever in the world that was._

"I said, it looks as though you figured something out."

"Was just thinking." She honestly replied, "Trying to understand Minerva's reasoning for her seeming lack of help." _And why she wouldn't want anyone to know where she lived; and yet…why there? Why not the Manor? Surely it was large enough and the grounds were beautiful…_

A flash burst through olive eyes, "You don't think that is one of her children's homes…do you?"

"No." Hermione absently replied, knowing that Minerva would have led the supposition away from her children and to herself if they had remotely suspected the home belonged to either Tessa or Percival.

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

A large boisterous laugh echoed throughout the restaurant, causing several heads to turn and smiles to curl upon the other customers' faces as the small, but obviously good set of friends, merrily laughed at some joke or amusing story amongst them.

"Aye." Rory said, leaning back as he pulled the napkin from his lap, "It was a right close call."

Helena reached up and dabbed her eyes, hoping to catch the tears of laughter before they fell. "I can't believe I never heard that one."

"And _you_," Harold turned to Minerva, "Didn't see it coming?"

A warm smile was upon her lips as she shook her head, "Heavens no." Her ancestry lacing her words, "Derrick had been brooding the whole of the last week before."

"But I thought you hadn't started working with Rory until Saturday?" Harold asked, obviously trying to work the timing out.

"Aye." Rory said, shaking his head, "It twas Saturday that I began working with Minerva on body movement, but I had joined her up at the Manor the week before…"

Helena couldn't stop the chortle from falling from her lips, "How absolutely priceless!" She gasped between breaths, "And I'm guessing the lot of you had dinner the week before…"

Rory nodded, a light shinning from his grey eyes as he thought back, "Aye, I had just returned from Germany…" He paused turning to Helena, "You were there, if I recall."

Helena thought back to life at the end of the war and the years after, and she felt her brows drawing together... "I don't recall…" She shook her head, "Are you sure?"

At this Minerva nodded, a smile shinning in her eyes, "Quite. You and Harold had just had a row…"

Harold leaned forward, gazing at his wife whose blue eyes went wide as her hand drew up to her mouth. "I believe this bares some telling."

"Oh my heavens…" Helena murmured, "I drank four bottles…"

"Of Silver labeled whisky that weekend." Rory and Minerva stated in unison.

"By gods Helena." Harold stated shocked that she had drank that much in that short of time and at what she had drank. "You would have been…"

"In a drunken stupor the whole weekend." Minerva interjected drawing a harsh look from Helena and chuckles from both Harold and Rory.

"At least when you weren't being the life of the party." Rory stated through twinkling eyes.

Helena felt her ears turning red as she eyed her long time friend, "You said there weren't many people at the Manor."

"There weren't…" Minerva's voice becoming soft, "Just family friends as I stated, and you knew them all."

Helena sighed, "Thank Merlin it's been over fifty years…" She reached out taking her glass of wine, "Or I'd probably die of embarrassment yet again." She paused, the glass about to her lips, "And I missed the telling moment because of my antics?"

Minerva smiled at Helena's question, "You didn't miss it…per se."

"What…" Helena's gaze flickered from Minerva to Rory and back, "Does that mean?"

Rory cleared his throat, "You…ah…we…"

Helena's eyes jumped to her hairline as her cheeks flushed, "We didn't…"

A raucous laugh burst from Minerva's lips, "No." She breathed out…stilling the commentary and breaking the awkwardness that was beginning to ebb across the table. "You didn't…" Minerva stated, tones of laughter still held within her voice, "I wouldn't have let you do that, but…the kiss you two shared…"

A low, deep chuckle reverberated from Harold's chest, joined by Helena and Rory. "And?"

"It was what had put Derrick in a wee fit for the following week…"

"So when he saw you…" Harold shook his head at the irony, "Dancing with Rory at the Manor…"

"He lost it." Minerva succinctly stated.

"Almost decapitating you…" Helena shook her head, "I'd say that is a bit more than lost it."

Rory nodded recalling the way the dance hall had been obliterated in the matter of minutes as Derrick's frustration found focus…at his sister, "Aye, it brought the notion of a sibling fight to a whole new level."

"What finally brought your fight with Derrick to a stop?" Helena asked, knowing that it would have taken a mountain to have moved for Minerva to have raised her wand at her brother.

"He screamed out that I didn't know what I was getting involved with after the party the week before; and I merely replied that I knew what I was involved in…" Minerva's smile became ghostly as she recalled the intense exchange with her brother.

"And you knew Rory had…" Harold raised his brow at the other man, "Other tastes?"

Rory smiled at Harold's word usage, "Of course. We have known each other since childhood and while it was not something I openly discussed as a young man, or older for that manner, we have always been candid with each other."

At this Helena arched her brow, "Always?"

Minerva turned to her dearest friend, "About most things, dear."

Harold and Rory watched the two women, both knowing that something was passing between the two, but also knowing that they would never know unless either chose to share; and both also knew that if either did decide to share, now would not be the time. "And did this get blurted out during your fight?"

"Not blurted out." Rory replied as both women finally turned to him. "Rather in his ear."

Helena and Harold shook their heads, "I'm not following…" Helena stated, trying to picture the scene.

"The fight between the two had degraded and spiraled very quickly out of control by Derrick; and Minerva was doing everything she could not to injury him. And I thought he was upset at her, thinking that he was worried about her getting hurt by me."

"So?" Harold poured some more wine, "What happened?"

"After some time elapsed, Rory managed to grab him from behind…"

_Strong arms grasped the wiry frame, his chest pressing into Derrick's back. "I will never hurt ya sister."_

_ Derrick jerked and moved, thrashing. "You son of a bitch. What do ya think…" He snapped his head back, connecting as he continued. "You'll be doing?" He spun around raising his wand, fury lacing his bright green eyes, "Kissing her best friend last weekend and now…"_

_ His body went rigid as Minerva stepped forward, a deep gash along her chin running red with blood as she neared. "You daft fool!" She yelled, "I no more like him than he me! We're friends," She summoned Derrick's wand as she released the hex, "And what happened on Saturday was something that startled Rory…"_

_ "Willingly startled by the way their lips were locked…" Derrick tried to interject as he sat up, but his words were stopped by Rory's voice._

_ "As wonderful as Helena kisses," He said, reaching his hand down to pull Derrick to his feet, "My preference is na for the fairer sex."_

_Derrick thought he was hearing wrong? "What?" He breathed out._

_ Steely grey eyes met startled green ones, "I find you far more enticing than your sister…"_

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Hermione drew her napkin from her lap and placed it upon the table, "Delicious."

"Surprisingly so." Angelina stated as she wiped her mouth, eyes remaining fixed upon Hermione. "What are you plans for tomorrow?"

Hermione reached out, picking up her tumbler. "I have to finish marking the essays to hand back on Monday. And you?"

Angelina gave a smile. "Just need to stop by the Ministry for a short time regarding this week's rotation. And perhaps, talk a friend into joining me at the quidditch game tomorrow evening."

Hermione felt her stomach drop at Angelina's inferred meaning in conjunction with George's words from last weekend regarding Angelina's feelings and how she wished for more, a more that Hermione wasn't comfortable in pursing. Everything with Ron was far too close to the surface, too raw… "Unfortunately, I cannot tomorrow." She finished the last of her whisky, "It'll take me the whole of the day to finish my marking."

Angelina forced her face to remain unresponsive, keeping her face inviting and warm. "Then, perhaps another time."

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Harold pulled on his glasses, eyes scanning over the bill as his fingers absently pulled his money pouch from his inner robes, but as he read the bottom…the paper slipped from his fingers and appeared into Minerva's waiting hand.

"We asked…"

Minerva held up her left hand while giving a solitary shake of her head. "Don't be foolish Harold." She stated, eyes scanning the bottom of the bill. "Besides…" She reached into her robes pulling a small pouch into her hand and with a wave, the pouch and bill vanished. "It is the least I can do as we have been unable to crack open a bottle of port in some time."

"The cost are not parallel."

"No…" She replied, eyes sweeping over to his blue ones. "They are not, but…" She forced a smile through the tears now threatening to spill from her eyes, "Given the circumstances and my lack of time as it were, the cost is small."

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Hermione brought her cloak tighter about her shoulders as the gates of Hogwarts came into view, "Thank you for walking with me." She said drawing to a stop just over fifty feet away from the massive iron wall.

"Thank you for accompanying me to dinner." Angelina replied as she stopped too.

"I had a good time." Hermione stated, noting how the soft moon light was filtering along grounds.

"As did I." Came the soft words, "I'll see you next weekend at the Order meeting."

Hermione nodded, "If you can, send me word of news."

"Of course." She stated as she leaned closer, arms stretching out to embrace the other woman.

Hermione leaned forward, her arms wrapping around the other woman's waist. "Stay safe."

"You too." Angelina murmured, her voice thick…as they pulled apart, but the warmth of her gaze drew Hermione back…as olive eyes flashed to the rose lips a mere foot away.

Their warm breaths mingling in the cold air…as Hermione's body involuntarily drew closer…the proverbial moth to the flame…as brown eyes became lidded…and the warmth of lips tentatively touched her own. Gently questing as a shaky hand slid along Hermione's cheek and down her side as sumptuous lips became more ardent and…mouths eagerly parted against the other…tongues melding…

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Rory shook his head as Minerva went to reach for his arm. "I insist," He said, "As you were tired before we arrived here this evening." He in turn grasped her hand within his arm.

"Please tell me that we won't be having this discussions every time you accompany me out." She said leaning into his arm.

His chuckle was warm, lifting. "No. As long as you consent for me to be your ferry to and fro."

She drew back just far enough, her brow arched high as she regarded him, "What in Merlin's beard have you been drinking tonight?"

"Just your Malt, love." He said, kissing the top of her head. "Ready?"

She gave a nod…and felt his magic pulse. Unlike Albus or even Hermione's magic, it rang in discord…and as the colors swirled around her…she felt her stomach lurch…an unpleasant reminder why she disliked to side-along apparate with anyone else; and why it had been such a pleasant surprise to learn that Hermione could side-along apparate her without the nausea's side effect.

And then they were standing a handful of steps from the gates, the fresh air of the fabled grounds momentarily easing her nausea…before she heard a rustle, head already snapping around, walking stick morphing into her wand…

She could feel Rory joining suite as her eyes narrowed…the moonlight's rays highlighting the path and two figures pulling apart upon it...obviously having heard something too…

And before they could draw their wands out, Minerva felt her stomach drop as she realized who was standing less than thirty feet away…

Angelina Johnson had been in an intimate embrace…with…Hermione Granger…

And without so much of a thought, she reached inwards and pulled the wards to her…and at once she and Rory were standing in her living room.

"Whoa." He said, spinning around, "What are we…" His eyes landed upon Minerva. "Doing here when there were two people down by the gates?"

Minerva peeled her hat off as she stood fully upright, "Because one of them happened to be a member of my staff."

"What?" He said lowering his wand as Minerva banished her hat and with a deft motion, her outer cloak was gone too. "Your staff?"

Minerva nodded as she reached up and peeled her glasses off, "I believe you know her as Hermione Granger."

He chuckled, "That was her?" He unfastened his midnight blue cloak with a flick of his hand.

Minerva felt herself nod, trying not to think of how soft Hermione's skin looked in the moonlight. "Along with Angelina Johnson."

Rory felt his jaw drop at her statement, "You're kidding."

Minerva shook her head, "No." She said…feeling her voice want to tremble, but forced it to remain steady, "There are perks to being an animagus."

In two strides he leaned in and kissed her cheek, "It would seem it is for others as well." He rumbled as he straightened back up. "As I doubt they saw us and can continue to enjoy their evening…"

"Yes." She whispered, "They will."

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

Hermione pulled away from Angelina's warm lips…hand reaching for her wand as she peered towards the gates…

Feeling Angelina doing the same thing…

Only to see…

Nothing. Just the massive iron gates of Hogwarts.

"I thought I heard something." Hermione said in a gasp…brown eyes staring up to the gates.

"Me too." Angelina breathed against Hermione's skin.

Hermione frowned as she stepped away, eyes still peering toward the gates. "It sounded as though someone apparated to the gates."

"Well…" Angelina said glancing to the rod iron, "If someone did, they have managed to disapparate without making a sound or have managed to enter the gates without us seeing them, because there is no one there."

Slowly, Hermione lowered her arm, "We would have heard the gates and even if they did enter grounds, we would still be able to see them…"

"Then someone appeared here and disapparated…" Angelina tucked her wand back into her tunic.

Hermione blinked and then raised her eyes to the great castle, focusing upon the eastern turret and as if beckoned…a light suddenly burst forth from the Headmistress' suite.

It had been Minerva.

But why? Why would she apparate to the gates and not her chambers? Hermione stepped forward, her worry would have to wait as she felt a warm hand upon her forearm.

"Hey." Came the soft voice, "I'm sure it was nothing."

"Yeah." Hermione said as she turned back around to Angelina. "Look…" She stepped closer to the olive-eyed witch. "Us…the kiss…" She shook her head, "I can't do this."

"You can't?" Came the sultry reply as she leaned forward, "Or you don't know how to say that you want to?" She whispered against the soft almond scented skin…staring into mocha eyes before capturing swollen wet lips within her own.

And for a moment more, warm lips continued dancing across Hermione's…before the young Professor stepped away.

"No…" She whispered, "I like you, but…" Hermione's chestnut hair brushed against her shoulders, "As a friend." She took a deep breath, "And as a friend only."

Angelina's face recoiled, "I don't believe that…" She started sputtering, head shaking.

Hermione felt her eyes mist over, "I care about you, but…only as a friend. And…" Her voice faltered, "As difficult as this is, it's the truth Angelina. And I don't want to ruin our friendship nor mislead you."

The moonlight glinted off of the trail of tears that were slipping down Angelina's face, "I thought you and I…had something."

"As friends…"

Angelina starred into eyes she wished would look at her with passion and felt herself nod, knowing that to be a part of the fabulous woman's life was better than not being in it at all, "Friends it is."

**~ line break ~ ~ line break ~ ~ **

_A/N: First and foremost – Have a safe and Happy New Year. _

_If you are still reading this mildly long-winded fiction; thank you. Going to try and start updating every week beginning January 15__th__ & yes…I am leaving you with this chapter for 2 whole weeks…as for Minerva's reaction, don't worry, she's still brooding on what she saw the next morning. ;) _


	36. Chapter 34 November 8th, 2009

**Chapter 34 ~ November 8****th****, 2009 **(Sunday)

Rory watched Minerva reach out, taking the proffered parchment from Elgin's outstretched fingers into her own. "If the world only knew." He whispered as she flipped open the folded paper, her elegant brow arching as she glanced downward whilst her other hand brought up her glasses.

"It would forever change the perception that surrounds not only I, but Albus as well." She replied slipping on her glasses, "To a far more truthful one and not the icon that surrounds us."

He reached forward pouring a cup of tea, "So what is on your fabled report this morning?" Minerva's eyes fell to the parchment, green orbs absorbing the words…until she was at the end of the page and felt a frown creasing across her lips mildly wondering for the first time in decades at the accuracy of her morning report.

"Problem?" Rory inquired sitting up.

"No." Minerva replied eyes re-scanning the notes, looking for either Angelina's name to have appeared upon the guest registry or that of Hermione not returning to Hogwarts. "If you will excuse me for a moment."

"Of course." He rumbled as she stood up, her regal posture reminding him of a the definition of a lady.

Minerva gave a nod as she stepped into her rooms, the door closing behind her before she called Elgin, who appeared almost instantly upon his summons.

"Mistress, you'se needs something?" He asked, yellow eyes blinking up at her.

"Is there anything missing from your report?" Her green eyes peering over the golden rims in question.

Elgin's eyes knitted together in confusion, "Mistress, I'se don't understand."

"Are you sure this morning's report is complete?"

"Of course." He replied, baffled at the Mistress' odd question.

Minerva was about to inquire farther but stopped at seeing the honesty reflected within his yellow orbs, and felt a wave of shame at her doubt at his thoroughness sweep through her. "Thank you." She said straightening up, "For your thoroughness, as always, Elgin."

He gave a deep bow, "The pleasure is mine, Mistress."

"No, Elgin." She said, "It is I who am thankful."

"You'se needs anything else this morning?" He asked while straightening.

"No." She stated and without waiting for another word, he vanished, leaving her momentarily alone; while her thoughts remained upon the morning report and her reaction to it…

_Correction, _she mused as she banished the paper, _it had nothing to do with the paper, but my curiosity regarding one of my staff. _A curiosity that mirrored her animagus form…and a curiosity she could ill afford.

Peeling her glasses off, Minerva turned to the window, knowing that Rory would be fine for a few more minutes as her fingers absently held the arms of her frames as the glasses themselves dangled aimlessly below as she strode forward; her right hand coming up…fingers resting along the ledge as her gaze swept over the quiet grounds across Hogwarts, wishing for a bit of tranquility within her life. It seemed, however, that was not to be the case; especially with Johannes…and now…there was another problem.

One far less severe, but its potency had grown…and after last night, and her reaction to seeing Hermione and Angelina's kiss, in conjunction with her foolish notions this morning…it was no longer something that Minerva could just continue to ignore or rationalize away.

She found Hermione Granger, attractive…brilliantly so.

Granted, nothing would nor ever could come of a relationship with the alluring young woman…

But as green eyes stared down at the steam wafting up from the lake…a deep sigh could be heard from inside the Headmistress' room as she quelled her foolish internal musing. Because alluring or no, Minerva was still bound to Albus, loved him…and she'd be joining him all too soon.

**Xoxoxo**

Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, her eyes already veering to the head chair, feeling an immediate wave of relief pass through her veins at seeing Minerva sitting there beside Filius…and…as it was still early, the other chair remained open; in truth all of the other chairs were open and she found herself already walking towards the one to the left of Minerva.

There had only been one other occasion that Hermione had opted to sit next to the Headmistress and that was several weeks ago; when she and Filius confronted Minerva about her lack of sleep. She didn't plan on repeating the sequence from several weeks ago, but she did want a few answers. Answers that only Minerva could give.

The first one was regarding last night and why Minerva had not apparated to her chambers and if it had been regarding a mission…why wasn't she informed?

Hermione's fingers reached out, grasping the chair…her eyes involuntarily sliding to the woman to the right, immediately noticing that Minerva seemed to be getting some rest; the circles beneath her eyes didn't appear to be as dark…but then again…she was sitting in the middle of the Great Hall. Even if she looked as had the other night in her personal rooms, Minerva would never dare allow anyone, especially her students or staff, see her in such a state. Hermione would have to ask Minerva if she was getting any sleep with Rory, she thought as she went to slide the chair back. At the noise, the quiet conversation between Filius and Minerva instantly halted, both the witch and wizard turning towards her…

**Xoxoxo**

Minerva could smell the almond scent wash over her as the woman in question drew to a stop catty-corner behind her; and her attention to Filius' words drifted…her mind returning to her epiphany from this morning and how ironic life was that the very woman in question was choosing today of all days to sit next to her.

Golden eyes left hers, and she too turned towards Hermione…a gentle smile upon her face. "Good morning, Hermione."

"Minerva, Filius." Hermione stated as she sat down.

"A pleasant surprise this morning." Filius' chipper words bringing a smile to her face.

"Where's Pomona?" Hermione questioned as she reached out and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Had an emergency in Greenhouse 4 and she'll be up shortly." Filius calmly cut his sausage patty.

"Nothing serious I hope." She replied as she drew her cup back to her.

"No…" He set his knife down, "Something about the mandrakes being next to an open window."

Hermione couldn't help the smile from crossing her face at Filius' casual response, and how amazing it was that he knew so very little about Herbology given that his wife was a Master in the field. "They don't take kindly to temperatures below 49 degrees."

Filius nodded, "She did mention something about that this morning before bolting to the greenhouse." He raised his fork, sausage upon the end, "However, at just before four, I'll admit that after the initial shock and alert was over, and as there was little I could do, I was rather content to return to my slumber."

Both women chuckled at the Deputy's comment, Minerva shaking her head as she spoke. "I'm sure that Pomona will take comfort in that fact."

At this, even Filius smiled after he swallowed. "Of that, I have no doubt and am assured that I'll be watching the Hufflepuffs this afternoon while she slumbers." His gaze becoming momentarily focused upon green eyes, "Speaking of sleep, your eyes look lighter."

Minerva could feel Hermione's gaze upon the side of her face as she stared at Filius. "I've had a bit more sleep of late."

"Then Rory has helped?" Hermione inquired, drawing Filius' gaze to her as well.

"Rory's here?" Filius asked, eyes sparkling at the notion that Rory had been with Minerva recently. _Perhaps, _he thought, _she will be alright after everything that has happened recently._

"A bit and yes." Minerva succinctly replied to her Deputy and Hermione; not wanting to answer that the last two nights, she had slept and found some solace; however the dreams had been atrocious.

Filius felt his heart lift at Minerva's response, "Does he have plans for lunch?" He inquired, always enjoying the Highlander's perspective and company.

"He left this morning and will not be returning until late this evening." Minerva noticing how Filius' shoulders were already beginning to sink, "However, if he arrives before too late of an hour, perhaps he'd be interested in a glass of port."

"Excellent idea." Filius said, "I do hope he is up for it, I wished to speak with him about my latest research on weather charms."

"I'm sure Rory would be delighted." Minerva spooned another portion of oatmeal.

"I didn't realize Rory had a background in charms." Hermione chimed in, drawing a wide smile from the Deputy and a small one from the Headmistress.

"He doesn't." Minerva replied picking up her coffee, "Nor does he have any formalized education."

"But I saw him…" Hermione immediately redirected her comment to safer ground, it wouldn't do for Filius to know what she had been involved in this past week after everything Minerva did to keep it quiet. "He's had to have been trained; he is far too good of a wizard."

"He was trained," Minerva stated, "Just not at Hogwarts; but by his elder sister and uncle."

"Really?" Hermione couldn't believe that Rory had learned all of what he had done through informal education. "I can't believe…really?" She asked again before biting into a piece of buttered toast.

"Quite." Minerva deciding to mildly expand upon her answer without giving too much away about Rory's personal life, "He was and remains a voracious reader; and although he is at times a bit unorthodox, he has exceptional talent and a unique perspective on traditional magic."

"And if he has the time and consents, his feedback is priceless." Filius said as he took another bite of sausage.

"Does he assist often?" Hermione inquired.

"Not often," Minerva quietly replied, "He regularly avoids what he deems nonsense loving the high country and purposely circumventing the life that he equates to that of the _low_ country."

"What kind of work does he do in the high country?" Hermione asked while scooping a handful of eggs onto her spoon.

"Herd cattle." Minerva succinctly stated.

"Cattle?" Hermione repeated, unbelievingly.

"Yes," Minerva poured herself a second cup of orange juice. "He took over Braque's business after the war," At Hermione's questioning look, she expanded. "His uncle was killed at the end of the first war against Voldemort."

Hermione felt her world stop at Minerva's simple comment, Rory had not only lost Derrick during that war, but his uncle too. "And what of his sister?"

"She…" Minerva paused for a moment as she turned to meet Hermione's curious gaze. She could feel the subtle tremble within the tips of her fingers against her cup, and she forced her face to remain impassive. "Died shortly after Derrick's death." Hermione felt her brows knitting together, a question about to leave her lips but Minerva gave her a subtle shake of the head and with half-hearted smile, "For another time."

Hermione absently nodded, her eyes riveted upon Minerva's turbulent ones and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Rory's sister, and from the overbearing emotion momentarily staring at her from behind emerald eyes; she was fairly certain that Minerva felt responsible or at least felt as though she was partially so. "And does he work for you too?"

"He holds a special place with the family." Minerva stated as she turned back to her breakfast; her posture and poise seeming as though she had just been discussing the weather, even the pain so blatant before now hidden within murky green orbs. "Filius," Her voice light, but Hermione could tell that despite her faux posture, she was not relaxed while speaking. "If you will please inform the visitors in the North Wing that I wish to meet with them tomorrow evening."

Filius nodded, "Of course." Concern was now lacing his jovial face, "And what is it regarding?"

Minerva leaned closer, voice barely reaching Hermione's ears. "The assistance with additional patrols upon the grounds."

"Is that wise?" His voice rising another octave.

"After what I learned from both Adam and Horace, prudent would be a far more apt adjective."

The two long time friends stared into the others eyes for several moments before he gave her a solitary nod and returned to his breakfast, Minerva doing the same.

A sliding chair beside Hermione and Marx's tall form drawing it out ended the potential conversation she had hoped to have with Minerva and before long, she and Marx were in a lively discussion regarding their respective quidditch teams and the upcoming game between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

It wasn't until Minerva was drawing her chair out that Hermione turned back towards the Headmistress. "Are you available for a short meeting this afternoon?"

Minerva paused and met warm brown eyes. "I have some time now and again after dinner."

Hermione didn't want to seem anxious, but she did wish to speak with Minerva about many things; last night just one amongst many. "If you can give me but a few minutes, I will be up."

Minerva merely gave her a curt nod and with practiced ease slipped from the Head of Hogwarts chair before flowing from the Great Hall. Hermione's eyes followed for a few moments before coming to land upon Filius' golden ones.

"She looks to be slightly more rested." Filius quietly stated to the cyan robed professor.

Hermione felt a surge pulse through her system at his words, and she found herself in a momentary paradox; wanting his words to be both true and not at the same time. Because the truth in his words meant that Rory had been helping Minerva in a way that she had failed to do so, and she hated failing those she called a friend. "It would seem."

"I will speak of this with Rory, please let me know if you learn anything more."

Hermione gave a nod, and felt a gentle smile curl upon her lips as she noticed his subtle wave of his hand, ending the silencing charm she had not even seen him cast. With a wink, he turned to Poppy and she back to Marx to bid him a good day.

**Xoxoxo**

Hermione stepped into Minerva's office expecting to see Minerva sitting behind her desk, frantically responding to the copious letters upon her desk. However, she was surprised to find her office empty, the only sign that she had frequented here since her departure from breakfast, a steaming cup of tea sitting upon her coffee table before her red and golden striped sofa. "Minerva?" She asked, eyes immediately darting to the second floor, but only silence greeted her ears; even the portraits remained momentarily still; except for Albus.

"She will be back in a few minutes." Came his warm voice.

"Then she is not here?" Hermione asked, feeling a frown pull upon her lips.

"Minerva is not within these chambers." Albus replied.

"Perhaps it would be better if I were to return this evening." Hermione said drawing closer to the portraits, and she felt the weight of a hundred pair of eyes upon her.

"The cup of tea is for you, Hermione." Albus' eyes darted to the table, "As are the books beside it."

Hermione turned around, eyes immediately scanning the location he had stated. "Are you sure?" She inquired as she strode forward, the title of the top book now becoming clear, a smile immediately spreading across her face.

"As she asked Elgin to bring the tea for you as she was leaving, along with the books, it would be fair to assume they were intended for you, Granger." Snape drawled.

Hermione absently nodded as she leaned down, and picked up the top book; a comic book – _A Heroes Birth_. And beneath the title; was a moving picture of a young boy that morphed into a tall, dark haired man with glasses before shooting across the sky with a red cape fluttering in the wind.

_She had forgotten,_ she watched as the boy again morphed into the well known character of superman, _she should have known that Minerva had not._

**Xoxoxo**

Minerva paused kneeling down, fingers reaching out, as her eyes traced along the crack, hands feeling what her eyes were telling her. She would need to take the time to verify that the heart and warding lattice were still in sync. _Perhaps this coming weekend_, she thought as she nimbly pulled her wand from the depths of her robes.

As she formed a spell upon her lips to repair the old stone, her mind flitting through what she had on her schedule this weekend, and whether she would be able to take a day and devote it to the heart and lattice works repair. A series of flicks to her wand as she cast the spell, and at once she felt the draw upon her magic, the ache within her body growing in conjunction with her fatigue as her eyes watched the stone re-solidify.

No sooner was the foundation repaired and she stood, hand sliding her wand back into her robes, eyes noticing that the tips of her fingers had become slightly red. "Dammit." She murmured, flexing her fingers.

A visual representation as to how little time she truly had left, and how she could not wait for her schedule to clear to spend a day in the heart; she would have to repair it sooner rather than later. Her magic was waning too fast and too quickly; and she would need it all to repair and adjust the latticework.

Her long strides brought her to the second area Elgin expressed as a concern, and her eyes narrowed in concentration, hand splaying across the stone. She could feel the wall weakening, and knew that within a week a crack would begin here as well.

Sighing, she turned away, ignoring the pull and ache within her leg as the doorway mystically appeared; the inner hallway. The torches springing to life, casting shadows upon the walls, her mind fixed now a story below as she turned the corner and upon the weakening warding and foundational structure. She could ill afford to wait until next Saturday, and would clear off her schedule either this afternoon or the morrow.

The door to her chambers sprung aside and at once she could feel the shift in her chambers, and the light earthy almond scent punctuated with a hint of vanilla this morning; indicating that Hermione had arrived.

Without thought, she descended the brass staircase, her eyes immediately drawn to the woman sitting across the room, a light expression upon her face as she read the comic series left upon the table. At the slight noise, Hermione turned, the soft strands of morning light touching her hair, making it appear almost golden. "I see you found the literature left for you."

"This is wonderful." Hermione cast one final glance at the page, before closing it. "I shall have to start purchasing these for Hugo." She set the book down, "He'll love it."

"Please, go ahead." Minerva nodded to the small stack. "And take those."

Hermione shook her head, "I couldn't Minerva." She said as her eyes took in the date. "These are almost seventy years old."

"I am aware." Minerva replied, "But, they are of no use to me and if they will bring another joy, then by all means."

"What of your grandchildren?"

Minerva gingerly sat down opposite of Hermione, "As I stated several weeks ago, both Albus and Callum had a collection; so another set remains within the library. If Hugo enjoys the comics, please let me know, and I will provide the rest of the ones in that collection."

"These must be worth a mint, I can't…"

"If you do not, when he comes here next weekend, I will give them to him myself." Minerva leaned back, body relaxing into the chair, "Now what can I help you with this morning?" She asked with a finality to the previous conversation.

Hermione felt her mouth open and she stared for a moment, wanting to find a way to pay or at least give Minerva some type of compensation for the comic books she was going to give her for Hugo; but the resolve written upon Minerva's face squelched the notion. "Ahh…" She drew herself back to why she had come up to Minerva's chambers. "I had a couple questions for you."

Minerva gave her a brief nod to continue, a flicker of amusement flashing across emerald eyes at Hermione's speechless moment.

"Last night…"

The amusement Minerva had felt a mere second ago, now gone as her stomach fluttered. _Surely she doesn't know, _Minerva thought as apprehension flooded her veins. _How could she? _Her logical mind rationalized, _I've only realized my attraction…unless she could see what I could not…_

Hermione continued on, not noticing as Minerva shifted, her posture becoming slightly more erect at her own internal musings. "I heard a noise of someone apparating at the gates when Angelina and I were…" Hermione found herself wanting to alter the word, embrace to something far less intimate, but found herself stumbling. "Saying good-bye and…and then a very distinct noise filled the air. We looked, but did not see anyone. However," At this point, she finally raised her eyes to met Minerva's. "A moment later, I noticed the lights to your tower come on."

Minerva's face remained the picture of tranquility as she recalled the two witches in what could only be described as an intimate embrace. An embrace she found herself having momentarily wished to be on the other end of.

"Why didn't you apparate yourself back to the Tower? And why didn't you let me know that you were going on a mission last night?"

Instantly the muscles along her neck and shoulders relaxed, her face softening at Hermione's apparent self-doubt. "There was no mission last evening, unless having a good meal with friends constitutes one."

_Friends? _Hermione numbly thought, and then immediately chastised herself, of course, Rory was at the castle and they would have undoubtedly gone out for the evening. "You and Rory went out." She said more to herself than to Minerva.

"Along with Harold and Helena. As for apparating to the Tower, Rory insisted upon apparating us back to Hogwarts and upon arriving…" She cocked her brow ever so much, "I thought it best to quickly take us back to the Tower."

Hermione felt a deep blush immediately flush her cheeks, "I, uh…" She swallowed, hard and forced herself not to look away, despite the burning desire to do just that. "It was not what it seemed." She breathed out, "We're just friends, and…"

Minerva held up her hand, "Please, Hermione." She stated, a heartfelt smile upon her face. "The reason for our sudden departure last evening was to spare either of you embarrassment. Neither of us care what either of you do, life is far too short and precious."

Hermione went to open her mouth to reiterate that she and Angelina were truly just friends, but…

"Was there anything else?" Minerva inquired, shifting the conversation away from matters to close for her own personal comfort this morning.

"No…" Her mind utterly blank and unable to move forward. "I…" She blinked trying to think, feel something other than…shame. _Shame?_ "Nothing…" She found herself rolling the top of her lip between her teeth, eyes remaining unfocused. "That won't wait."

"Hermione." Minerva reached forward across the table to gently touch Hermione's knee, her Gaelic accent poignant as she quietly asked. "Was there something else?" Hoping to glean the source of Hermione's sudden discomfort.

Hermione found herself forcing a smile upon her face as eyes came to rest upon the worried expression of Minerva McGonagall. "No." She patted her hand, "It can wait." She said standing, "I am sorry to trouble with you such nonsense."

Minerva leaned back, watching as Hermione distractedly picked up the comics, "You have no reason to feel embarrassed, dear."

The simple statement brought Hermione to a standstill, eyes dropping to the witch only a few feet away. "Embarrassed would be the wrong word, Minerva." She whispered stepping away, but paused as she approached the door her mind finally moving forward. "Yesterday, Arthur shared with Ron, Harry, Ginny and I that you practically scared the Governors into muggles because of their interference." She turned back around, "What happened at the Governor's meeting last Monday?"

"It is of no importance." Minerva replied, standing.

Non-pulsed, Hermione met Minerva's gaze challenging. "After what you said at the start of the weekend and from what Arthur said, how can you say that?" However, she was unprepared for the transformation and within a blink, she was staring into penetrating emerald eyes.

"Because," Minerva's voice instantly becoming as hard as her eyes. "It's my job to deal with the politics and the fallout from it, Hermione. Not yours."

"Fallout?" Hermione unconsciously took a step forward, her mind working in overdrive as she pieced the conversation from Friday afternoon with the steely resolve and icy expression greeting her now. What could have happened recently to have the Governors upset…and from Minerva's responses, she could infer it had been directed at her. And with a small gasp and a ray of startling clarity, she realized…how could she have been so dense! "From my divorce." Frustration lacing her voice.

"From foolishness." Minerva stated, "But, you need to be mindful as do the rest of Hogwarts professors that all of Britain is watching, everything we do here."

"So if I were to miss a class…"

"After I had just skinned the Governors alive for even questioning the dedication of one my staff, it does not do well for one's image."

"There's more to what happened that afternoon." Hermione stated, trying to glimmer an ounce more from the stoic face staring back at her.

"As with all things, it boils down to perception."

She took another step forward, "Thursday, when I arrived, the two Governors…your comment about resigning…" She felt her eyes widen, "How bad was Monday's meeting?"

Every portrait shuffled at the question, and Hermione glanced up noticing that not one previous Headmasters or Headmistress were looking towards her, all eyes were trained upon Minerva; waiting. It was obvious that not one of them would breach their silence, and if she wished to know what had happened just under a week ago, it would have to come from Minerva. As Harry, Ginny, Ron and she had tried, albeit unsuccessfully to coax Arthur into giving additional information, he had been reticent at best; merely saying that he had only witnessed Minerva's wrath once before and even then it did not compare to what happened on Monday; he went on to joke with Molly about still having to pick wood chips and splinters from his cloak.

Minerva met her gaze, unflinching as she rolled over four dozen responses through her head; "It helped crystallize a few priorities."

"That's why you are thinking about resigning?"

"Was there anything else, Professor?" Minerva asked she cocked her head to the side, obvious that she would not be discussing the topic farther this morning.

"Why won't you tell me what happened?" Hermione pushed, heedless of the change in tone and way Minerva had addressed her, not as Hermione but rather Professor.

"It's in the past," Came the clipped reply, "And I do not foresee it being a problem in the future." Minerva forced a lightness into her voice, "Besides, we both have far more pressing matters to concern ourselves with. So…was there anything else on your mind, Hermione?"

"Just one more thing." Hermione shifted her weight, knowing she should probably wait, but there were no other avenues of gathering information for her to try and she wanted answers. "There have been five men and two women caught with pictorial representations of the Manor and despite trying every avenue available to the Ministry, the other home that has yet to have been identified."

_Would this morning never end, _Minerva thought, immediately knowing where Hermione was going. She wanted nothing more than to be honest with the younger woman, but…there were some areas of her life that she simply refused to divulge. The Ridge being one of them.

"And when Angelina commented on how you would know most of the homes along Britain, in conjunction with a few other…" Hermione paused as she searched for the correct phrase, "Coincidences regarding your home, lack of personal touches throughout, except for this past Friday when I visited, and then there is your overall demeanor when visiting the Manor; it makes me wonder if you have another home?"

"Angelina was correct in her assumption, Hermione." Minerva said as she waved her hand, several portraits shifting at her words, as they wondered how much Minerva was about to reveal. "I do know this place." A piece of paper fluttered into Minerva's hand as she stepped forward, holding out the parchment to Hermione; giving her one of the pictorial renditions that had been taken from the muggles. "But, I do not believe it is either yours or the Ministry's concern."

Hermione felt as though a river of ice water had been thrust down her back, her voice cracking. "After everything Minerva, how can you say that?"

"Because, there are details of my life that you will know nothing about, and for that I am sorry."

"But…" She felt tears pooling in her eyes, "Are we not friends?"

"We are, dear." Minerva quietly replied, her own heart breaking as a tear slipped off of Hermione's lashes, wetting her cheek. "But, there are some things that cannot be shared." She let her eyes bore into Hermione's. "Even with friends."

"Is…" She gasped while a second trail of tears joined the first, as she recalled the name scratched in Albus and Minerva's scrapbook. "The Ridge your home or your children's?"

"Neither."

"Minerva…"

"You will not find that _that_," She nodded to the home upon the paper within Hermione's hand, "Home belongs to either Albus or myself." Minerva continued on, an edge prevalent within her voice. "Nor does it belong to the children. I am sorry I cannot tell you more, but it's in everyone's best interest."

Hermione blinked back her tears, "And I'm sorry you don't feel like you can trust me." She murmured meeting emerald eyes with her own before turning around and striding the handful of steps towards the door.

"I trust you far more than you know, Hermione." Minerva's strained Gaelic voice barely reaching across the room.

"Then why…" Hermione paused, the tips of her fingers at the door as she gazed backwards over her shoulder, "Won't you tell me?"

"Let this be." Minerva whispered, a tear slipping down her own cheek. "Please."

"I don't understand why you feel as though you cannot tell me, Minerva." She quietly breathed before stepping through the door.

**Xoxoxo**

Minerva flourished her wand in another long elaborate series of spells, magic swirling through her exhausted body, the chamber pulsing in light causing a glow to shimmer off of Minerva's sweat soaked skin, her brow furrowed in concentration.

She could feel the latticework and the Heart, and she continued casting the necessary spells to bring them to the surface. A stray thought flashing through her head, that she should have corrected this problem when the North entrance was shaken at the beginning of term, but it hadn't seem relevant in comparison to other things at the time. Now…as a deep unsettling burn began settling within her hands, it seemed incredibly relevant. If she had taken the time to conduct the realignment months ago…it wouldn't seem quite so draining. Then again…did it really matter? The hum of Hogwarts began burning in her ears…

**Xoxoxo**

For the tenth time that evening, Hermione found herself shaking her head to bring her thoughts back to the present and off of the woman who had plagued her thoughts for the past ten hours. She had known when asking Minerva about the possibility of a second home there might be some resistance, even outright reluctance, but she had never expected Minerva to react with such distance…pushing her away…_All because of a second home? _

_What in Merlin could be so important about the Ridge that would cause her to react so intensely? _She asked herself for the hundredth time, mind again drifting back to this morning and their conversation. Absently, she shook her right hand…fingers going numb…

**Xoxoxo**

"Minerva asked that you read the note upon her desk." Albus stated to Rory as the lanterns systematically lit the office, the green flames returning to their usual orange and yellow color.

"Then she went ta see Tessa?" He asked as his tall frame leaned over, fingers already picking up the letter with his name upon it.

"I do not believe so." Albus replied as Rory slit Minerva's distinct seal.

Rory opened the letter, and narrowed his eyes. _I really need ta buy some glasses, _he thought holding the paper a bit farther away.

_Rory,_

_ I have a few pressing items that need to be dealt with and will not be available until well after eight. Hogwarts business, only Filius knows of this. If you are feeling up to socializing, Filius was hoping to speak with you regarding weather charms over some port._

_ Minerva_

He reread the note before glancing up to the wizened wizard's portrait, "I dunno suppose you're able ta tell me where Minerva went?"

"You know I cannot." Albus solemnly replied, causing Rory's brows to furlough.

"Can ya at least tell me if she is upon the grounds?" Concern lacing his voice.

"Yes, Rory." Dilys interjected and at once Rory spun his gaze upwards to meet the light-hearted Headmistress. "She is upon the grounds, but we cannot help beyond that."

He gave a nod, "Thank you, Dilys." He rumbled, eyes darting back to the note once more. "Filius, huh?" He glanced up to the emerald, alabaster, and azure clock noting the time. "Do any of you know where he is?"

"In his rooms." Came Rowena's soft voice from the founders portrait, "He and Pomona have just returned from dinner."

"Can you ask him if he is available for me to come up?"

Rowena gave a nod and then stepped from the room, causing a smile to flutter across Rory's face. "You're all absolutely marvelous."

Several of the portraits smiled at Rory's compliment and before any could respond, Rowena returned. "He would love your company."

**Xoxoxo**

The light in the chamber shifted as the magic surrounding Minerva pulsed again, both the latticework and magic of the heart splaying out…

Before her…

Through her…

It lifted her upwards, suspending her in mid-air, coursing through her; she focused as a hundred and twenty-two magical signatures that comprised Hogwarts' Heart; the previous Head of Hogwarts…and the current one. For a moment, Minerva lost herself in the overwhelming feeling; the joy and pure melody as the signatures resonated – she could even detect her own mixing with Albus'…as Dily's mixed with Everard's…

Then it shifted and the discord shot through her, her sweat soaked skin burning as though on fire…

A scream echoed off the stone, and in the vague recesses of her mind; she realized, it was hers. But, it mattered not, the pain dissipating almost as quickly as it started; Hogwarts healing her as quickly as it hurt her…and she extended out her hand, eyes remaining closed as she began to manipulate the wards, latticework, Heart…and bring them back into synchronization.

**Xoxoxo**

Hermione stood, no longer able to sit…the chair beneath her rocking backwards and falling onto the ground. _First her hand…_she thought, shaking it again, _now...she felt just plain edgy. Like I've sat for days upon end and I have to move my muscles…_

"This is ridiculous." She muttered to herself, eyes snapping to the door feeling a sudden need to do _something_. Without thought she waved her hand, her black cloak flew across the room before landing within her fingers in route to the door. "I'm going to get some air, Godric." With ease she set it upon her shoulders and with her finger closed the seam.

"Very well." He rumbled as she strode from the room with purpose.

Before she realized where she was, Hermione was staring at the worn green door of Minerva's office which opened on its own accord and into an empty room. At once, a handful of portraits stopped feigning sleep to see who had entered the Headmistress' office.

"Ahhh, Hermione." Albus said, a warm smile upon his face. "She is not within this evening."

"Out with Rory?" She asked already turning back around.

"No, he is with Filius." Albus kindly answered, eyes peering over his half moon glasses at her.

She felt herself pause, "Filius…" She murmured more to herself than to Dumbledore's portrait. "And Minerva is…" She frowned as she turned around absently shaking her right hand again. "Upon the grounds?"

At once the portraits shifted but stopped upon hearing Albus' voice. "She is upon the grounds."

"Thank you." Came the faint reply as she departed, her mind already churning to where Minerva was at as she stepped from the Gargoyle and into the hallway.

**Xoxoxo**

"Filius?" Rory questioned, immediately drawing the wizard's golden gaze, "Are you alright?"

"Huh…yes." He replied, trying to recall what Rory had spoken about for the past two minutes. He had not realized the hour until Pomona had stated she was retiring for the evening, indicating that it was close to ten; and Minerva had yet to send word that she had left the Heart. It had been over eight hours; and that was long, even for her. "I'm sorry, Rory; but…" He stood, "I need to conduct my rounds this evening and I didn't realize the time."

With practiced ease, Rory emptied his glass. "Aye, it is getting a wee bit late, I am sure Minerva has returned." He finished, standing.

"That is what I wish to verify," He said, eyes darting to the picture that housed the flowing raven haired woman, wearing a silken navy dress that seemed to flow in the breeze. "As I have not received word that she has."

"But I thought she was upon the grounds?" Rory asked, peering down at the demure wizard.

Filius stood as he waved his hands, immediately levitating him to almost eye level to Rory. "She is." He turned to Rowena. "Has Minerva returned to her chambers?"

Rowena's form seemed to solidify, "No." Came an almost unearthly voice. "She has not."

Filius turned to Rory, "Please return to her chambers and wait…"

"I will go with you…"

"You cannot." Filius stated, "I am sure she is fine, but I wish to make sure; and will see you momentarily."

Both men moved to the door, surprisingly Filius reached it and was through it before Rory had an opportunity to take two steps. By the time he stepped into the corridor, there was no sign of Flitwick. "That is a marvelous trick." Rory murmured more to himself and was surprised by Rowena's soft cadence in response.

"He is, as you know, rather adept in Charms."

"Quite." Rory replied, recalling their earlier conversation about his latest research and isolating weather patterns. Filius' concepts were ingenious, and he had readily agreed to partake in a set of experimental trials. "Now, if only he could Charm himself to be just a bit larger."

A coy smile crossed Rowena's face, "Who said he doesn't?"

Rory opened his mouth in rebuttal, but the portrait had already shifted, becoming partially transparent…a way for the founders to be in many portraits at once, waiting...leaving Rory to wonder _exactly_ what she had meant by that comment. And as he ambled down the flight of steps, he quickly decided that perhaps, he really didn't _want _to know.

**Xoxoxo**

Filius turned at the noise, fingers pausing before he finished the last of the incantation to see the familiar outline of Professor Granger as her black cloak fluttered around her slender frame. Despite the forty feet that separated them, he could see the rose hue highlighting along her cheekbones indicating that she had been outside. "Professor," At once, he flicked his right hand downward, disabling his levitation charm. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Hermione watched as Filius' feet touched the ground, his kind face remaining riveted to hers. "Do you know where the Headmistress is?"

"I believe she is in her study." Filius replied casually.

"Perhaps she will be," Hermione stated as she wearily eyed the diminutive wizard, truly realizing for the first time how adept Filius was at being Minerva's deputy. His face was as stalwart as Minerva's if he so chose it to be. "However, she was not there moments ago." She slide her finger along the hemline, drawing open the black cloak. "Upon re-entering Hogwarts, I asked Milksy if Minerva had returned in the last hour to her study while I have been searching for her upon the grounds. You know as well as I that the answer was no, Filius." The cloak falling open as she strode forward, the black outer cloak swirling back behind her cyan robes as silver robed wizard stood unfazed at Hermione's commentary.

"If she is not within her study, then I'm afraid Hermione, that in this case, you know more than I."

"I very much doubt that." Hermione snapped her frustration mounting at her own fruitless efforts to find Minerva after three hours of searching the castle and the grounds to no avail. "As her deputy, she keeps you informed as to her whereabouts."

"When she leaves the grounds," Filius laced his fingers together in front of him, "That tends to be true, but I received no word of that this evening. However," He rocked backwards ever so much, "In all likelihood, she is in her animagus state verifying the external wards. I would suggest a letter to her study via Milksy, she'll receive it upon returning to her rooms."

"I left a letter already." Worry beginning to replace the momentary frustration, as she idly moved her hand, the pervasive numbness another reminder as to why she sought Minerva.

A tender smile appeared upon Filius' face, "Then I am sure, you will hear from her soon."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask once more if he knew where Minerva was, but by the look in his golden eyes, she didn't believe so and she found herself muttering her concerns to Filius; knowing the esteemed Deputy would not breech her trust and his worry often time mirrored her own regarding Minerva. "It's just…I have this…" She shrugged her shoulders, stretching out her hands as if trying to convey the depths of what she was referring, "Feeling that something isn't quite right." The cadence in her voice dropping, "I've felt edgy all evening and I can't help but feel that it has something to do with Minerva."

Filius' concern regarding Minerva's welfare jumped exponentially, however, he kept his voice even and face fairly impassive. "Truly?" At her nod he continued on, "About what time did you start feeling this way?"

"Early afternoon, shortly following lunch."

_About the time she entered the Heart, _he thought resisting every urge to turn around at once and cast the final incantation to descend into the sacred chamber and see for himself if Minerva was in fact 'alright'. Instead, he forced himself to step forward, bringing him closer to Hermione. "She was with me after lunch," He stated truthfully. Minerva had arrived in his rooms for a very short meeting, all of five minutes, but… "Perhaps your apprehension is misplaced?" At her look of incredulity, he expanded his thought process. "Both you and Minerva have been under tremendous strain of late, and the edginess you felt could merely be your body's mechanism for feeling the stress of the last several weeks. It's only natural to believe that it involves Minerva as well, as far too often of late, one does seem to preclude the other."

At this, Hermione couldn't help the small smile from curling the corner of her lip. "Too true." She whispered more to herself than aloud before turning her gaze fully upon Filius. "And you are sure Minerva is upon the grounds?"

"One can never be entirely sure of anything regarding Minerva," He stated, "But I do not believe she has left Hogwarts today."

Brown met gold for a lingering moment, before she gave a nod. "Perhaps you're right." Her mind already upon the warm bath she would draw and ease the ache from her muscles and shake this nonsense from her system. Filius beginning to fall into step beside her, "If you do see Minerva," Her voice dropping, "Please do not tell her of this, she has enough to worry about."

Filius reached up, patting Hermione's hand as she took a step up the stairs, Filius remaining upon the second floor gazing up at her. "That she does."

"Good night." She uttered before striding up the steps, her destination clear, Gryffindor Tower, as her satin black cloak fluttered along her cyan robes before disappearing around the corner.

Filius waited one heartbeat after she vanished from the stairwell before his wand flicked a series of times and with break neck speed, his levitating body was through the doorway and descending into the Heart of Hogwarts as his own blood pounded in his ears.

He tilted his body, tips of his fingers running along ruff stone helping him to maintain his balance as went around the last corner before becoming momentarily blinded by the brilliance of the magic pulsing in the chamber; causing his levitation charm to falter and his body to tumble hard upon the ground.

"Filius…" Came a very tired and worn voice, "Please do not move."

He could taste a bit of rust within his mouth, and knew it to be blood as he touched his lip and felt the thick warm sticky substance while sitting upright; otherwise, he remained motionless. Minerva was slowly sinking to the ground, her feet about four feet from the earth, as her body pulsed in time with the magical thrums, the very light of the magic seeming to emanate from within Minerva as her robes swirled about her…hair fluttering in the same breeze that moved her clothing…eyes closed and jaw clenched in concentration. He had witnessed and even at times balanced the wards himself over the past decade; even once realigning the heart and wards, but in all of those times, Minerva had never looked as she did now.

He stood unmoving for countless minutes, mind churning through the possibilities that would cause to happen what he was witnessing; and despite being eight-three years old, having witnessed countless magical miracles, helped to develop dozens of new charms and being one of Britain's most intelligent wizards…never in his life had he witnessed something so profound; and nothing in his life had prepared him for it.

As her feet touched the ground, arms slowly dropping to her side as did her robes while her long black hair cascaded down her back…the crystals that encompassed the heart beginning to pulse with the brilliance that once seemed to emit from Minerva as her body became solid…and her skin its traditional milky complexion. "What time…" Her throat hoarse as a pillar grew from the very stone floor enabling her to involuntarily lean upon it as brilliant green eyes blinked open. "Is it?"

"After ten." He breathed, "Are you alright, Minerva?" The distress from the last half hour clearly evident within his voice as he stared at his long time friend, whose whole body seemed to shake with the mere effort of standing.

"Probably should have…" Minerva swallowed hard, feeling as though all the moisture had been evaporated from her mouth. "Done this prior to the start of term." Her meek smile turned more into a grimace as she withdrew her wand, morphing it into her walking stick.

"Minerva," At once he was levitating and by her side, "Here." He whispered taking her left arm and draping it over his shoulder.

"Thank you." She said as they eased forward.

"I didn't believe the latticework, wards and Heart were so far out of alignment." He stated, remaining focused upon his charm lest they both fall, which he had no plan on repeating for at least another decade.

"It was a rift buried deep within all three that was causing the cracks along the Foundation." Both witch and wizard stopped and pressed their hands to the corner of the wall, at once the open air hallway vanished and was replaced by a solid stone wall. Almost instantly, another hallway to the left appeared, torches springing to life as they began trekking up the worn stone.

"You pulled all three off-line and completely re-synchronized them?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Yes." She answered simply, loving the feel of the cool air upon her hot skin.

He turned to her, "Minerva, you…" Golden orbs sparkling in the yellow torchlight. "Cannot afford to do something so…rash. The magic required to synchronize one, let alone all three…"

Minerva paused, drawing herself upright as she peered deeply into Filius' eyes. "I am the Head of Hogwarts, Filius and until I die, resign or that has been taken from me because of inability to perform my job duties; I will do what needs to be done to protect Hogwarts and the thousand lives within."

"And I could have done it as easily as you." He met her gaze unflinchingly. "You are not alone."

Minerva was unwilling to impart with him that the reason she knew the problem had little to do with the cracks along the Foundation, those only helped to signify that there was indeed a problem, but rather her own bond to Hogwarts. She had gone into the Heart before lunch, meditating and searching for close to three hours for the problem, only to discover it was not something that could be fixed easily or quickly. "I know, dear." She said beginning to move again, "And in the future, I shall endeavor to remember that."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, "I'm sure you will only as long as it suites you."

"You would be no different if you were in my position, Filius." She uttered as they came to stop in front of the wall on the other end; both waved their hands and it began to form a doorway, instantly the colors and shapes of objects from her office could be silhouetted along the wall.

"Of all the statements I wish were not true, it would be that one." He murmured, their eyes locking upon the others, "But in my heart, I fear that there is far more truth within those words than I ever hope nor have to understand."

"Me too." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, before disentangling herself from him and stepping into her office, Filius fluttering to the floor and following suite. Minerva already rifling through the stack of letters upon her desk as she absently took a sip of cold tea from earlier, relishing the feeling of liquid sliding down her parched throat while Filius cast the spell to hide the entrance to the Heart, the wall seamlessly blending together as the portraits re-aligned upon the wall.

"What time did you go to the Heart?" Filius asked as Minerva heard a door open in her residence, signaling that Rory had indeed heard their re-entry.

"After speaking with you." She answered before turning her head upwards, forcing a smile upon her weary face. "Good evening Rory."

"Hello love." He leaned against the bronze railway. "Where have ya been hiding this evening?"

"Here and there." Minerva obliquely replied, "And how was the high country?"

"A calming balm to a weathered traveler." He gave Filius a nod, "I see ya have found her."

"Rather she me." He stated with a smile.

"I'll be up shortly." She said and smoky grey eyes narrowed before he gave a nod, almost immediately vanishing from view. "Now," She turned back to Filius, "Why do you ask?"

"I had a rather peculiar conversation with Hermione not quite an hour ago." He watched as she pulled a singular parchment from her desk and with almost equal precision her glasses from the depths of her robes.

A frown curled her lips, as she put on her glasses. "Pertaining to?" She began uncoiling a letter from the very witch they were conversing about.

"She said she felt edgy for the last several hours and believes it is pertaining to you. The time it started corresponds very closely to when you entered the Heart. Is there something else I should know?" The shock momentarily springing forth in her eyes told him all that he needed to know; Minerva didn't know the root of Hermione's edginess anymore than he or Hermione.

"No." She answered, eyes remaining upon his. "Did she say anything else?"

"Only that she has been trying to find you for the last several hours."

Her eyes slid to the letter…

_Minerva,_

_ I am sorry for my terse behavior earlier and ill chosen words; I know you trust me, but I do not understand the hesitation nor the unwillingness regarding the Ridge._

_ If you do not arrive too late and have time; I have something I would like to speak with you about._

_ Hermione_

"If I ascertain what has Hermione on edge, I shall let you know." She banished the letter, "And I will see you in the morning."

"Do get some rest this evening, Minerva." His robes flourishing about his petit frame, hand already upon the fading green door.

"Same to you." She said, drawing her wand out and with two snaps, a spell hurled towards Filius…gently caressing his face. "And put a bit of healing ointment upon your lip prior to tomorrow."

He reached up, fingers grazing his lip, the wound no longer seeping. "I shall. Good night."

"And to you." She said as he stepped through, the gargoyle springing to life. "Albus," She turned, "Was Hermione here earlier?"

At once all the portraits were awake at her question, "Yes. She was hoping to find you."

"About three hours ago." Dilys joined in.

Minerva's hand absently reached up to her temple, her head feeling as though a chasm had been carved through it. "Our bond…" She murmured, trying to make sense of Filius' words regarding Hermione, and why she was feeling edgy. "And that of Hogwarts."

Concern readily apparent within his azure eyes, at not only what had been discussed mere moments ago between Minerva and Filius, but also the way Minerva was openly speaking of their bond. Something she rarely did. "You would be able to feel if Hogwarts was bound to Hermione." He stated, knowing where her mind was heading.

"Then how do you explain her edginess?" She asked, pushing a bit harder on her head.

"Perhaps she is sensitive to Hogwarts' magic from when she touched you as I was dying and was exposed to…

"I don't know…" She murmured interrupting, voice trembling as her vision warbled. "I can't do this right now." She breathed out. "Elgin."

At once the small house elf appeared, "Mistress?"

"To my room."

"Ahhh…." He blinked not sure he understood, "Mistress?"

Albus' voice answering his question. "She is exhausted, Elgin."

He needed no additional prompting and at once, long fingers were upon her silken robes and they were standing before her bedroom door. "Thank you." She whispered, hand pushing open the door as Elgin vanished.

"Minerva?" Rory questioned, stepping forward, guiding her.

"Nothing a good night's rest won't cure."

He frowned, "You and I both know that isn't true. You're plum exhausted, love."

"Aye, that I am." She peeled her glasses off, a subtle shake residing within her fingers. "And I mean to remedy that by getting a good night's sleep."

Rory turned his back, and he could hear the rustling of clothes, the door to the wardrobe open and then the compression of weight upon the bed. With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his shirt and set it upon the table, and then he began untying his boots.

"Tenian says hello." He pulled his left leg from his boot. "And asks if you have found Titan or does Jupiter still cloud your judgment?" He asked while turning around.

She was leaning back into the bed, long legs tucking beneath the covers, "If I knew what he was referring to, it would be a lot easier to answer his question."

"Signs and portents?" He inquired, peeling his other foot from his boot.

"Lost to me as are the stars." She murmured pulling her pillow closer.

"Come, come love." He leaned back, flinging the covers over his legs as he reached up and turned off his light and the last of the torches. "At least the centaurs remain safe." He whispered, reaching forward, and pulling her to him. "As do the Phoenixes."

"I miss Fawkes…" She murmured into the still air.

"Or his companion?" Rory's question dancing upon her skin.

"Ummmmhmmm…" Came the faint reply as her breathing leveled off.

**Xoxoxo**

A/N: Here's an update and I am sorry to say; it's done a little before Friday. ;) And who knows…I may even be persuaded to give another update this weekend. Enjoy!


	37. Chapter 35 November 10th, 2009

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews; below is my thanks back to you. :)

**Chapter 35 ~ November 10, 2009 (Tuesday)**

"No, Albus. I cannot be certain." She said pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee.

"But it did go well last eve?" A ring of hopefulness lacing his cadence.

"After the first hour." Minerva stated, leaning back into the chair as she gazed at her husband's portrait, a coy smile upon his face. "Care to share what you are thinking?"

"Only that you always look absolutely breathtaking in the morning, before you ready for the day. The way you half-heartedly braid your hair, the tendrils of ebony locks brushing along your ivory robe that is drawn about your slender frame, enabling a glimpse of your milky skin that causes ones imagination to picture the ivory robe as your precious pearly skin…then we come to your legs." A huskiness beginning to lace his voice. "And the way you have them tucked beneath you, knees exposed from beneath the edge of your robe…and I find myself wishing to be there," Desire sparkling from deep within his eyes, noting the hint of color rising in her cheeks. "To touch and love you as you deserve, my dear."

She cocked her brow, accent deeply lacing her voice. "I do so wish you were here to ease the ache you have so deftly ignited."

"Ohhh…love, you have no idea." Albus whispered.

Minerva felt a surge of emotion course through her, a fraction of what it once was, but momentarily almost as poignant; and she closed her eyes, allowing the feeling of wanton desire to wash over her. "I have an inkling, love." She murmured. She sat there for several minutes, eyes closed…willing her pulse rate to slow, but could still feel his desire coursing through their bond. "Love…" She moaned, shifting her lower body to ease her ache. "You aren't helping."

"I am sorry." Came a sincere voice, "On many levels."

Emerald eyes opened and sparkled in the morning twilight. "As am I." She licked her lips, wishing her tongue was his lips and found herself standing…no longer able to comfortably sit. "Change the topic, Albus." She murmured, resting her hands upon the back edge of the sofa.

"Dear…"

"It's awful enough during my animagus state not to give in, and to feel your desire coursing through me…heightening my own, knowing there is no relief only greater ache…"

"Minerva, know that I wish I were there to relieve it."

"I know," She said, tightening her grip.

And at her almost pained expression, he knew that their mutual desire had to be shifted, as wonderful as it was to feel her through their bond, it was not fair to her. "The night before last, regarding Hermione and the conversation you had with Filius. Did you learn anything yesterday?"

"I had a brief conversation with Hermione…"

_Minerva stepped around the exiting Slytherin and Gryffindor second years, Hermione already beginning to clean the room and prepare for the next class. "Good morning, Professor Granger." Minerva's voice ringing out in the almost empty room. _

_ Hermione felt her hands stop without thought as she glanced upwards, "And to you Professor McGonagall."_

_ Minerva gave a nod to Samantha, the last student exiting the classroom, before leaving them momentarily alone. "I apologize for not coming sooner, I did not return to my rooms until quite late. Do you have time to discuss it now or perhaps later today?"_

_ Hermione cast a silencing charm upon them, stepping closer. Her initial reason for wishing to see her yesterday had eased after she had taken a warm bath, even the pervasive tingling within her fingers, and she couldn't help but think that perhaps Filius' statement was far truer than she first imagined. "I was merely going to ask if we could defer our training for this next week, I am behind in my curriculum and…"_

_ "Would like a break from working with me." Minerva stated directly meeting brown eyes._

_ "I…" Hermione had known that Minerva would believe it stemmed from their conversation yesterday, and truthfully, it in part did; but not entirely. She had yet to submit the last five weeks of terms curriculum, nor had she the opportunity to see her friends…and she wanted to be ready to see her children this coming weekend; in addition she needed to sort out her own thoughts regarding the woman in front of her and why she could not get her out of her head. "In part." She said, "But, I need some time to do what you hired me to do, teach. I have yet to prepare the last week of November through the end of December; and from what you said yesterday, I believe it prudent to make sure I am prepared for class."_

_ "As you wish." Minerva replied, a mask descending upon her face. "Was there anything else?"_

_ Hermione gave a short shake of the head, "No," Minerva already turning to leave, Hermione reaching outward, "But, you need to know…" Grasping the other woman's arm, causing Minerva to turn her head to look back at Hermione. "That I will be there next Monday."_

_ Minerva gave a singular nod, "I will see you at lunch, Professor." And with that, Hermione let her hand drop from the soft silk of Minerva's arm and watched as the Headmistress proudly exited the room._

"But it did not come up in discussion. Rather her desire to take a break from working with me." Minerva stated, a hint of melancholy lining her eyes.

"And your thoughts regarding Filius' words?" He asked, redirecting the conversation back to something that would cause her to have to use her logical mind.

"I…" Minerva shook off her own thoughts regarding the slight discord she and Hermione were having, "Think that you may have had a point the previous evening."

Albus' brows knitted together, "Are you referring to the evening I died?"

"Yes." She answered, stepping away from the couch, wandlessly summoning her cup of coffee as she approached the portrait. "We know that as our bond all but shattered, and my one with Hogwarts strengthened, the magic was so strong…much like when we join and recalibrate the wards, but even more and during that point is when Hermione touched me."

"Are you thinking that…Hermione and Hogwarts…" He let his voice trail off.

"Not bound, but…perhaps, predisposed or even…tethered to its magic."

Albus reached up and pulled his glasses off. "And when you were within the Heart on Sunday, and re-synchronizing the wards, the Heart and the latticework; the power of the Heart is what caused Hermione to feel edgy?"

Minerva took the last sip of coffee within her cup, "If you eliminate what cannot be, and look at all that is left, no matter…"

"How improbable…"

They both finished the last lines together, "Or unlikely is undoubtedly the cause."

"She didn't feel anything when you were significantly injured during the Hukbar." Albus stated matter a factly.

"And the only way she would feel anything regarding what occurred on Sunday…"

"Is if she were bound or…"

"That's a very large 'something', Albus."

"When you were connected on Sunday, did you feel anything else?"

Minerva pursed her lips, "No, repairing the fracture took a lot of focus and energy."

"Perhaps when you have time, you could go to the Heart and see if Hogwarts magic seems tethered."

"As tempting as that sounds, I don't know if I have the strength necessary to join with the Heart again this week."

"Minerva…"

She shook her head, "Albus, as important as this is, I am exhausted and not sleeping."

He sighed, "I know, but if she is in some way connected to Hogwarts…"

"I doubt it is anything more than a tether, or she would have felt it when Hogwarts was attacked prior to the start of term. And she will probably only feel it throughout her life if there is a significant pull upon Hogwarts magic."

"Mistress…" Elgin appeared handing her a folded paper, "You'se report."

"Thank you, Elgin."

"Is Master Rory returning soon?" He questioned blinking up at her.

Albus couldn't keep a smile from forming upon his face, knowing the cause of Elgin's concern. "No, I'm afraid he is quite busy in the foreseeable future."

Elgin's ears drooped, "You'se didn't sleep much last evening without Master Rory."

Minerva sighed, "I am aware, Elgin. And regarding my sleeping patterns, you are not to share those with Professor Granger nor anyone else."

Large yellow eyes stared up at her, but at seeing her resolve, he gave a nod. "Very well."

"Thank you, Elgin." She said, returning her attention to her husband. "Regarding Hermione, I have never felt her presence nor an inkling of a connection when working in the Heart."

"How much magic did you have to use?"

"The fracture was along the base of Foundation and Heart, and it took considerable amount of effort to get them realigned."

"Did you feel whose magic you used, yours or Hogwarts?"

Minerva opened her mouth to respond but stopped, "I believe both, as I could feel the burn across my skin while I conducted the spells, but just as quickly I felt it heal…which was one of the reasons I was so tired that evening; it felt that I was perpetually being burned and healed."

"Which means the pull upon Hogwarts was far more intensive than you merely re-aligning the Heart."

"It would seem that I shall have to be careful for the rest of the year if I have to go back within the Heart."

"If you can…"

"I will take a trip to the Heart within the next two weeks to see if there is any trace of a connection between Hogwarts and Hermione."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Hermione paused at hearing the distinct voice filtering down the hall, "…of you to come."

"I must say, Minerva. It is good to be back." Horace's dry words barely reaching her ears.

Hermione found herself shifting her direction and as she turned the corner, could see the edge of Minerva distinct emerald and Horace's eggplant robes flitter around the corner, disappearing from view. With a sigh, Hermione began retracing her initial route, mind upon the witch in green robes. She was still very comfortable with her decision to take the week off, perhaps help to clear her head and enable her to catch up on her paperwork. Yet, as she stepped into her classroom, she couldn't help feel as though she may have made a mistake yesterday.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

"George," Percy came into the back, "I was going to go grab a bite to eat from Rollins, want anything?"

He shook his head, "No, I ate a short time ago." He stood up, "I've got the store, go ahead."

Percy gave a smile and continued walking down the back of the store, George stepping out onto the floor. Immediately noticing that it was quite, much like most mornings during this time of the year, but his thought was interrupted as the door jingled signaling that he did indeed have a customer.

Stepping around the display, he felt his day irrevocably change as his eyes landed upon Rory Wallace. "Hello." He said, a smile naturally appearing upon his face.

"George." Rory stated in greeting, eyes sweeping around the shop. "I was hoping to speak with you for a minute."

George gave a nod, "We can step towards the back, but Percy just left, so I'm afraid that I can't leave the floor."

"That'll be fine." Rory replied and at George's motion, strode towards the back of the shop; George walking beside him. "Business still doing well?"

"Very well," George stated, "Despite Hermione's misgivings at having to deal with the product line while teaching at Hogwarts."

Rory chuckled, "Yes, I believe Minerva has been less than happy at having to deal with the added bonus of the Weasley Wheezies products over the years."

They drew to a stop, "I don't know," He stated, facing Rory, noting for the first time that Rory was only perhaps an inch shorter if at all. "She has been a good sport, even helped once or twice when I've been stuck in the development stages."

Smokey grey eyes twinkled, "That sounds like someone I used to know."

"You've known McG a long time." George stated, intending it to be rhetorical.

"Since childhood." Rory answered honestly, "She is a wonderful and a very close friend."

"I'm sure she is." George replied, wishing he could say the same thing, but reality was, it was hard to get past her reclusive spirit. He heard the door jingle, indicating that another person had entered the store, "I don't mean to be curt, but…" And he motioned towards the door, Rory gave a nod in understanding. "What can I help you with?"

"Perhaps it would be better to talk about after your store closes."

This caused a flash of concern to spark across his eyes, "Are you sure it can wait?"

"Aye, it can." Rory said, "But are ya available on Saturday?"

George knitted his eyes together, "I can make it now, I'll just close…"

Rory held up his hand, "I willna be back in the low country till Saturday, and it can wait."

George found himself nodding, "Alright, but why not lunch after the meeting?"

Rory was about to agree, when a child came around the corner with his mother, pulling George's attention; but not without a momentary lasting look back at Rory as he wondered what had driven the Highlander man to his door before smiling to the young man and mother.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

"After last week's incident at Borgin and Burkes' I am shifting Gawain's primary focus to the Harkiss threat, but I need a handful of your unspeakable's for another job."

All eyes snapped to Harold Harrison, the head of the department of mysteries, to see his reaction; however, as usual his face remained stoic and eyes almost void of emotion. Inwardly, however, was another matter as he forced his face to remain congenial and voice neutral in response. "While I think you need assistance, Gawain, as the Aurors cannot do this alone; it would be very unwise for the unspeakables to be seen throughout the streets of London on assignment." Nods of consent were immediately given to Harold's statement. "After decades of mistrust, their reputation has finally begun to return to a favorable…"

Kingsley interrupted, and Gawain flashed Harold a look of concern. "And if we had no need, I would not request their assistance, but they are uniquely able to track…"

"I will not jeopardize their lives…"

"Following the Headmistress of Hogwarts is hardly a lethal task."

A cold chill swept through the room at the Minister's statement as the other fifteen department heads mouths uniformly slackened, save for the man being addressed, but everyone could see how the light flashed behind his eyes before once again becoming black as night. "For me to order their assignment, it must be threat to the wizarding world's way of life; Minerva McGonagall would not constitute a threat."

Brown eyes met blue-grey ones; "I am not issuing this conscription because of her deeds, rather to assist in protecting her life and hopefully helping us to garner ways to track and find Harkiss." He leaned forward, "She seems to be at the very epi-center of this crisis and not overly willing to share all of her information with the Ministry or even her own sources."

A round of nods went through the table, in conjunction with wishes to protect the Headmistress' safety, and Harold felt a slow noose sliding about his neck as the chatter and support for the Minister's proposed mission died away, eyes turning to him expectantly; awaiting for his commitment to the _saving_ and protection of Minerva McGonagall; their beloved icon and Headmistress of Hogwarts, who was neither to him. She was his friend, and he hers…and to sanction this, to have shadows upon the wind plaguing and reporting to Shacklebolt her every move…and he would not be able to speak of this to her, to anyone. Once released, he would be forbidden and prevented from sharing anything that was reported, save to the Minister…

Harold felt his throat catch and his heart skip a beat, "A squad of four will be dispatched this evening." His job had just placed his friend in harm's way, and there would be little he could do to slow the Express that was steaming forward.

Kingsley's brow arched, "Wonderful, but I require your team to be dispatched with haste."

Harold stared at the Minister for a solitary moment before letting a coy smile appear on his face as he placed his hand upon the table, a Weasley Wheezies gold coin plainly evident as he balanced it upon the edge, Kingsley's picture timing with fool…as Harold leaned back, the coin suddenly swirling across the table and a smoky haze bursting forth. "They…" Six smoky faces came into view, "Are currently in Berlin and I can…"

The Minister held up his hand, halting any commentary, but Harold waved his hand and the grainy picture shifted.

"And they are at Balmoral…"

"Harold…"

"My men are few and those that are not currently deployed, are on holiday. I will have a team put together by this evening." He stated, giving no room for negotiation, as he pulled his bond to him, permitting Helena to feel his concern and a shred of worry. "That will not impact your other priorities."

Kingsley nodded, "Very well." He turned to the other men and women within the room, "Now...for what is upon the agenda…"

Harold felt Helena's comfort as the coin upon the table fell upon Kingsley's face, Harold wishing that Kingsley was indeed the fool pictured; however, knowing that he was not.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Minerva stared at the note, disbelieving. "Elgin," She glanced up, voice thick, unsettled. "Are you sure that Harold wrote this?"

"He's asked Twilt to bring it."

Minerva's green eyes darted back to the hastily scratched words, and she felt her heart sink. _What on earth would possess him to write such a note? And why would he risk his granddaughters life? And to have Twilt appear at the Ministry…_

"Merlin, Harold…" Minerva uttered, as the paper caught on fire, turning to smoke and ash within her fingers before it fluttered into nothingness upon the air. "I hope you know what you are doing." She said to no one in particular, hating herself for what she was about to ask Elgin. "Please locate a student for me."

"At once, Mistress." Elgin said, not understanding what was vexing his Minerva. "Who?"

"Samantha," Minerva said as she turned to her faithful servant, "Meaur."

"Blonde's granddaughter?"

Minerva gave a nod, "It would seem that she is about to have an accident."

Elgin's face fell, "No…" He said shaking his tiny head, "She's so…"

"Elgin, time is of the essence." Minerva said interrupting him, "Please, go find her."

"At once." He stated and with a crack, he was gone. Leaving a horrified woman in his wake, a woman who viewed the young girl as a granddaughter…

She blinked tears away, knowing that Harold would not ask without very good reason, but…to hurt an innocent…

"She's in the Gryffindor common room about to leave for her afternoon class, Transfiguration."

"Thank you, Elgin." Minerva said, whispering as she blinked back another wave of tears as an idea easily came to mind. "Merlin help me…"

* * *

xoxoxo

* * *

"Poppy!" Hermione stated as she rounded the corner, "Poppy!" She glanced down at her brilliant young student, body partially transfigured.

"Hermione…" She stopped, "What has happened?"

"Her wand, backfired and…" Hermione set Samantha down upon the cot, "I have never seen…" Feeling her heart plummet at the young woman's obvious distress, distress that mirrored her own. Samantha's arms had shrunk to the size of the slender legs of a tortoise, her chest the soft under side of the shell, the bottom of her jaw mix of a reptilian…the rest of her body unchanged. "I tried the counter-spell, but…"

Poppy shook her head, "We need a level two transfiguration master. Tily." Poppy called out, immediately the house elf was blinking with almost hazy green eyes.

"Yes."

"Please get the Headmistress." Poppy stated.

"She'se not upon the grounds."

"Do you know…" Samantha shifted, a slight moan of pain eschewing forth, ending Poppy's questions to Tily. "We'll get you over to St. Mungos." She turned to Hermione as she cast a levitation spell upon the child, "I'll keep you posted."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Jordan stared at her daughter, mouth in her throat as her mother rounded the corner, two men in tow. "Where's Minerva?" Jordan asked as her mother neared.

Helena couldn't help her jaw from clenching, "Out."

Jordan swallowed, "And can either of you…assist my daughter?"

The taller of the two wizards extended out his hand, "Virgil Nexus." He said as they grasped hands, "And yes." He turned to the young woman laying upon the bed. "It'll just take some time to reverse the spell."

Jordan let out of breath she hadn't known she was holding as her eyes scanned her mother's face; aggravation evident regarding her statement of Minerva's scarce whereabouts. And she too couldn't help wonder where Minerva was, as it was exceptionally rare that her mother was not able to contact her aunt.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

"My granddaughter is in the hospital, Minister." Harold snapped, ice blue eyes on fire. "Are you telling me that this mission supersedes my granddaughter's well being? And cannot wait for two hours?"

Kingsley stared at the normally quiet man, knowing that there was little he could do to prevent Harold from leaving the Ministry prior to the implementation of sending a squad of unspeakable to _track_ Minerva. "It can wait," He waved the office door close, "But if I hear that you have spoken with Minerva during your absence; I will send you to Azkaban."

"Be careful, Minister." Harold's glacial voice sending shivers down Kingsley's spine. "That you do not mix your own personal issues with others."

"I know that you are lifelong friends with her."

"And you have ordered me to do a job; one guised in the shroud of protection when you and both know that you seek far more."

"Tell her and…"

"Save your threats Minister, I am a professional and will do my job." He spun on his heel, "Worry about your own; and I will return as soon as my granddaughter is safe."

* * *

xoxoxo

* * *

Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, expecting to see the Headmistress and was surprised to see her chair, empty and the plate unspoiled. She gave Filius and Pomona a nod as she made her way to her chair, Sinistra already pouring her a cup of juice.

"Here," She said handing it to her, "I heard there was a bit of an accident in your class today."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, taking the juice. "There was." She took a sip of the crisp liquid. "Though, I have not been able to figure out how it happened." She her glass down, "I verified what Miss Meaur's last spell was; and she had used the correct one along with accurate wand movements." She scooped a helping of mashed potatoes. "I was hoping to speak with the Headmistress this evening to see if she had an idea as to what the cause could have stemmed from, however," She cast her eyes to the vacant chair, "She has been unavailable." She finished wondering when Minerva would be returning to Hogwarts, and knowing that she could be as elusive as the wind.

"Filius stated she has not been upon the grounds since lunch," Sinistra loaded her fork with baby carrots, "And as she did not return for dinner, I doubt she'll be back anytime soon." Sinistra paused, "Probably speaking with the Administrator of St. Mungos regarding Miss Meaur."

"I'm sure." Hermione muttered, feeling abysmal for not knowing what happened in her class, not having prevented it and that the young lady had not been able to be treated on-site. _Worse yet_, she thought as she pulled a thin slice of beef onto her plate, _Minerva has not been here to inquire how something like that could have happened…unless it wasn't an accident._ Came a distant voice in the back of her head one which she immediately shook off, as all of the other students were as shocked as she. _Perhaps she would ask Minerva her thoughts on the topic tonight…_the stark realization struck her that she would not be seeing Minerva tonight, nor any night this week unless she went to the Headmistress suite, because she had suspended her tutelage for the interim. Lifting her head, she turned to engage in conversation with Sinistra, brown eyes momentarily remaining fixed upon the empty place seating, wondering where the woman had vanished to.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Turbulent blue eyes sparkled as her fury echoed through their bond, "You had…….WHAT?!" Helena snapped causing Harold to step forward, bringing his body flush against hers as he physically welded her backwards.

"I told you…" His rumbling voice vanishing as the window rattled and the door closed with a crash.

Jayne sighed as she motioned for the other assistants to return to their work, the sparks while not over between Helena and Harold, were over as far as public consumption would be permitted to see. She began to shift Helena's schedule around, knowing that her husband would be with her for at least twenty minutes; and tried not feel the need to take a headache draught. How could the woman book so many things at once? There were times that she swore that Helena had been issued a time turner; or perhaps she had crafted one herself.

"Excuse me," Came a deep, solid voice causing Jayne to lift her head up as a tall wizard in olive robes stood before her, an aura of urgency exuding from his body. "Is both Harold and Helena Harrison within _that_ office at the moment."

"I'm sorry," Jayne said a frown on her face, "I am not at liberty to answer…"

"Mitchell Eve with the Auror department," He nodded his head toward the door, "I need to speak with both of the Harrisons, immediately."

Jayne felt her breath hitch, eyes darting to the door knowing full well that to intrude upon Healer Harrison when she didn't wish to be bothered was, at best, a loathsomely poor idea; to do so with her husband in the office with her after a family member had been brought to St. Mungos injured…was nothing short of a death wish. "Mr. Eve, I'm sorry, but she is not to be disturbed…"

"Under the Ministry provision, 221.23 I am ordering you to open that door." He stated, black eyes narrowing.

Jayne stood up, and stepped into the lobby motioning for him to step around her desk. "If you wish to face the wrath of the Harrisons, by all means. But I will not."

Mitchell glowered at the younger woman, jaw rippling, obviously trying not to comment upon her statement as he stepped around the desk; fingers already upon his wand, as his left hand reached outward…

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

His lips crashed against hers, forcing her verbal tirade to cease as the anguish quickly ignited into something more as their tongues equally plundered the treasures of the other. It wasn't until he heard her moan into his mouth and their bond reverberate with desire that Harold remembered why he was here, and at once, he pulled away. "Helena." He gasped, "Listen."

"Harold…" The rest of her words died within her throat at the pleading look within his eyes, and the overwhelming concern that mirrored their desire coursing through them. "What is it?"

"I need to show you…" He cast a glance towards the door, "Quickly."

"But you're not a…" She shook her head as the reality of what he was asking her to do, "We swore we would never…"

"They are recent memories…"

"There is a Ministry official wanting entry." Dilys' voice interrupting.

"Helena…"

"How recent?" She asked, trying to still nerves and heart.

"This morning."

"Don't fight." She whispered, and before he could say a word…he heard the tendrils of a spell leave her lips and then, the rush of her skirting along his mind…and at once, he recalled the meeting from this morning.

And a faint gasp left Helena's lips as the memories and his feelings washed through her…their bond intensifying…

"Oh…God…Harold." She breathed as she pulled back, tears in her eyes as the gravity of what she just witnessed sunk into her consciousness.

"You must tell Minerva."

"I will, but why Samantha?"

He shook his head as the door began to open, "You'll never know." He breathed against her cheek as a tear slipped off his grey lashes as their arms tightened around the other…

Mitchell stepping in on the intimate, heartfelt embrace between Helena and Harold…a gentle flow of tears streaming down both their cheeks, Mitchell immediately bowed his head, glancing away as did the entire room beyond believing the charged emotion emanating from them stemmed from the recent events with their granddaughter.

Little did they realize how menial Samantha's injuries from the recent event had just became as Helena and Harold struggled with the information shared and what that would mean to their dearest friend; and how his job had just placed an irrevocable wedge in their life too.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Gawain involuntarily took a step back as Harold entered his office, blue eyes as cold as the Tundra. "Before you say anything, I was under orders."

"I thought we had an understanding." Harold's voice rumbled, "And after today…"

"We do, and I never would have sent anyone, Harold." Gawain sighed, "But he already had someone posted at St. Mungos watching Helena." Gawain's frown matched Harold's. "You mean you didn't authorize a detail to watch your wife."

"Heaven's no." Harold snapped, feeling his anger burn hot. "Don't tell me…"

Gawain shook his head, "I would have told you."

Harold peered deeply into his long time associate's green gaze, "I believe you."

His brow arched, hand palmed upon his desk as he leaned forward, "It would seem that we both have another problem."

"Quite." Harold stated, "One that I cannot foresee an easy end for either of us."

"Do you know what McGonagall did to warrant the actions Kingsley is undertaking?"

"Watching out for the Wizarding world's best interests." Harold honestly replied.

"And, what, he didn't believe her?" Gawain asked disbelieving, "They have been friends for years…"

"He thought her motives were personal." Harold interjected, leaving Gawain speechless. "And while she has a personal history with Harkiss," A deep sadness lacing his usually expressionless eyes, "She would never permit it to interfere with the greater good; even if it is at her own personal cost."

"Merlin's beard…" Gawain muttered, "To discount McGonagall…" He ran a hand through his sandy red hair, "How are you going to alert her to what Kingsley has ordered?"

"I cannot." Harold said, raising his own gaze to meet that of Gawain's. "Neither can you."

"But…"

"From what you said, Kingsley is covering his basis, and that means that we must as well. And as for Minerva," A coy smile curled the edge of his lips, "I believe she'll do just fine."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Helena materialized in a flurry of cloaks, soot and flame. "Minerva!" She bellowed out as she scourgified her robes to remove the soot. "Where the devil are you?" She muttered and cast a glance upwards, "I don't suppose any of you would be willing to tell me."

Albus was the only one to meet her icy glare. "In her chambers." Her cloak billowed around her as she turned, not bothering to stop and acknowledge the rest of Albus' statement. "Be cautious."

The portraits all gazed upon the other, wide eyed and concerned, as her mood did not bode well for the Headmistress; who herself was not in the best of moods. And as Helena came to the top of the brass staircase, her voice practically shrill.

"Minerva! Where are you? And what in Merlin's beard were you playing at earlier!"

Dilys' warm gaze slide away from the soon to be explosive scene, eyes landing upon saddened blue ones. "This does not bode well."

Albus shifted his line of vision, "No…" The rest of his reply was momentarily interrupted as a door could be heard flung open as it crashed upon a wall and a very terse Scottish brogue reverberated off the stonewalls.

"Helena, what is with you?"

"Me!" Agitated arms began to animate wildly, matching Helena's distraught voice. "I'm not the one who transfigured Samantha!"

"…it does not." Albus finished, feeling his heartache at the mounting exchange between his wife and her best friend.

* * *

xoxoxo

* * *

Minerva felt as though Helena had just willingly struck her with the Cruciatus curse, and she fought for her own internal balance as she met Helena's tempestuous countenance as her logical brain rationalized Helena's reaction. "Did you not speak with Harold? And is he well?"

Blond hair shook as large droplets of tears pooled down her cheeks, "Speak with him! How in blazes am I to speak with him? He's the damn Head of the Department of Mysteries, and has been ordered to follow you! And now, I won't be able to talk with him about you…and…"

"What do you mean ordered to follow me?" Minerva asked interrupting.

"Don't play coy, Minerva, I'm in no mood."

Minerva's brow arched in response, "Did Kingsley order him?" She inquired again.

"Yes." She breathed, as she gasped, "And he can't talk about it." Her face began to turn as her anger again surfaced, "Because of your self-righteous and self-important role you believe you must fulfill against Harkiss; riling upon Shacklebolt…did you not realize the consequences?"

"Consequences?" Minerva rebuked, "What of the my family, my daughter, granddaughter?"

"It's not your responsibility…"

"Then whose is it?" A quiver lacing her now deep brogue, "Albus'? Derrick's? The Ministry's?"

"Let Kingsley do his job."

"Perhaps I should have heeded that notion when Jordon…"

"Minerva," Helena's voice turning hard, "That was a different time…"

The last several weeks of stress, lack of sleep, pressures from the Board, Harkiss, Hogwarts, the Professors – current and past, and her now strained relationship with Hermione in conjunction with the terse conversation with Helena was just too much; and her slipping control…fully slipped. "Because Albus was alive? Or it was _your _daughter?"

"Who was and is no less important to you than yours are to me, Minerva." Helena gasped out, "But this isn't about _them_, it's about you."

"Me? Or Harold and this afternoon?"

"Don't turn this…"

"You are the one turning the Minister's order to Harold into more than what it needs to be."

"He has to send Unspeakables, Minerva, Unspeakables. Not the Auror division, but Kingsley has ordered Harold to commit a full detachment for you. Do you realize what that means? To you, Harold…what can and cannot be discussed with my own husband?"

"And what would you have me do? Hole up and forget about Johannes as he kills those I care for and shreds Hogwarts of its magic as he becomes immortal and the Ministry fumbles about and more of my Professors and their families die while the last of my magic wanes and I enjoy time with you and Harold and whoever else happens to be alive."

"Work in conjunction with Kingsley."

"I tried!" Exasperation ringing from Minerva's voice.

"He'll listen now." Helena pleaded.

"I had to threaten to have him removed from his office before he saw past his perception of that Johannes was a threat to more than me. But, now that he has seen the light, I should merely have faith that he'll do the right thing."

"If he has the knowledge, he'll be able to capture Johannes…"

"And if Samantha was at risk…"

"This isn't the same…"

"Would you trust someone else, Helena?"

"The Ministry…"

Minerva interrupted Helena at once, "Would you trust someone else with your child's life? Your grandchild's? Harold's? My children? Grandchildren?"

"It can't always be you."

"In less than a year, it won't be."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

"While very peculiar, there are some aspects of transfiguration that I do not fully understand and you may wish to clarify with Minerva this evening."

"She hasn't been available since the incident."

Filius smiled, "She just returned this evening after dinner."

"Then she is upon the grounds."

"Yes," Filius continued on, "I believe within her rooms." He paused as if in thought, "Will you not see her for your training this evening?"

All of Hermione's desire to find out what exactly happened to Miss Meaur vanished in that second as her heart stopped at his seemingly innocent query; one that delved into a realm that she had yet to discern the meaning of. "I am not training with her this week." She answered simply, his left brow rising in question.

He stepped closer, voice dropping. "What has happened?"

Hermione began to shake her head and utter, "I am behind in my current plans, the children…"

"Superfluous. The real reason?" He asked, cadence leveling off several octaves lower than normal.

"Those amongst a few others are the real reason." She rebuked.

Gold eyes scanned brown, and he shook his head, "Perhaps that is what you are telling yourself, but that is not the reason."

Hermione felt herself want to tell him that she didn't feel that Minerva trusted her, but resisted the temptation. "She is in her rooms?"

Filius' small hand emerged from his silver robes, lying upon her arm. "Our illustrious Headmistress is not the easiest person to be friends with, Hermione; however, she is the loyalist friend I have ever had the privilege of having." Hermione went to pull away and try to speak, but the diminutive Deputy's grip remained steadfast. "And while she may not always divulge her thoughts, intentions or motives, it is not because she thinks less of you rather that she cares."

His hand slipped from her cyan robes, "She has a peculiar way of showing it."

"That she does."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

The nature of their conversation soured as the minutes ticked by; years of pent up emotion and feelings that had not been released were being cast at the other. Aspersions and subjectations flew between them as poignantly as their spell work; which both were able to cast with unbridled mastery.

"So what, now it's Harold and my fault that Lily and James died too? You couldn't have saved them too!"

"I couldn't not help Harold."

Helena felt her fury increase, "He would have been fine, he didn't need you!"

"Outnumbered six to one; he would have died and Jordan shortly after. And so would have you!"

"Don't you dare blame me for your choice!" Helena roared.

"It wasn't a choice!" Minerva bellowed.

"And you think today falls in the same category!"

"Yes!"

"Did you even think that perhaps the message was forged!?"

"Of course, but you'd think I'd recognize his writing after five bloody decades! And the way it was delivered…"

"That was my granddaughter!"

"Mine too!"

"She could have died!"

"It was a simple animagus morphing spell!"

"That took a second degree master in Transfiguration to undo; who wasn't you! Because, my best friend, who is one of three fourth degree masters in the world, was missing all damn day!"

"What would you have me do! It was obvious, Harold needed to speak with you; not me!"

"But Samantha…"

"Wasn't in any danger!"

"You, of all people, know that transfiguration can go dreadfully wrong."

"Do you think I would have done anything to harm her?"

"BUT YOU DID!"

A tear slipped down Minerva's cheek, "I MADE A DECISION TO FOLLOW HAROLD'S WISHES!"

"WHICH WAS WRONG!"

A green jet shot from the long mahogany wand toward the Maroon robed witch; and at once her hickory wand spun in defense, the spell deflecting and bathing the room in a pearly glow.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Hermione stepped in front of the gargoyle, "Kits Korner." No sooner had the words left her lips and the statue began to grind its way open. At once she stepped in, feeling a margin of apprehension swell within her breast at seeing Minerva this evening. They hadn't truly spoke since yesterday morning; and while not entirely unusual, the sudden divide that seemed to exist between them was nothing short of daunting.

The steps began rotating upwards as Hermione pondered how she would find a way to bridge her perceived growing divide with the elder woman.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

"WHY?" Minerva flung another two hexes as Helena, "BECAUSE IT WAS YOUR FAMILY?!"

Helena's shield warbled as her body was pushed backwards from the strength of the spell. "IT WAS A LINE, YOU NEVER SHOULD HAVE CROSSED! THERE WERE OTHER WAYS!" She snapped back, her wand mimicking her voice as it arced in a series of quick moves back; and two jets of blue streamed towards Minerva.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

The steps came to a halt, Hermione already stepping forward about to enter; but stopped at the thunderous voices echoing from the Headmistress' suite. At once, her hand was upon her wand and she thrust open the door.

Anything she had imagined was nothing compared to the stunning, horrific scene before her as her eyes immediately snapped up to the second floor, the balcony area where the raised voices were stemming from. And her heart flat-lined.

The upper part of the floor shimmered white-blue; the force of the spell striking the protego charm and Helena's body was propelled backwards, stumbling…her back crashing into the brass banister as her hands stretched outwards, but it was too late and she was falling over.

Hermione could feel her wand moving, lips forming a spell to cushion Helena's fall and as it shot from her wand towards Helena, and missed. Hermione felt her world stop as Helena's arms became shorter, her legs disappearing as did her maroon robes with silver piping. And Hermione blinked as she stared, disbelieving at the red tailed hawk where Helena had been falling moments before. Wings beating to lift its body upwards, and Hermione's jaw slackened as she saw Minerva running towards the balcony, morphing, paws launching itself off the railing as Minerva's lithe tabby form gracefully stretched outward, crashing into Helena's. Their bodies smashed into a tangled mess as claws and talons tore at the other, a shrill squawk and a chilling wail eschewing forth from Helena and Minerva as feathers and tufts of fur splayed outward. Their bodies rapidly plummeting to the ground, Hermione could do nothing but stare, utterly shell shocked. Their tumbling movement came to a sickening thud of a stop, both animagi rolling away from the other and immediately righting themselves in a predatory manner; Minerva's ears were tipped back flat, fangs prevalent, hair along her shoulders and back upon end, legs poised and ready except for her front left one which was bent slightly and with nominal weight upon it, blood oozing from the shoulder area; the feather's along Helena's neck were unsettled, wings partially stretched out, body leaning more upon her left leg as blood marred her tawny chest as she squawked loudly in defiance.

"STOP!" Hermione yelled, throwing a bolt between them, causing both Minerva and Helena to jerk their angry gaze from the other and upon her. "What in blazes do you think you two are doing?!"

At once, their bodies morphed, both witches having turned and again staring at the other; and Hermione couldn't believe that they were friends. Both women looked, dreadful. Only tattered, shredded remains of their normally pristine robes remained hanging upon their battered bodies. Helena had an obvious wound upon her right hip area, blood saturating her robes, not counting the other minor wounds easily apparent across her arms and back, blond hair wildly out of place, blue eyes burning with unbridled anger, as her jaw rippled and wand seemed to tremble. Minerva appeared to have fared slightly better, overall, but Hermione couldn't be sure; because while she had not been wounded as many times, hers were far more extensive; her left shoulder was torn open, the arm hanging at her side as she clutched her wand tightly in her right hand, crystal green eyes sparkling as half her hair spilled from its usually tight confines framing her face…

Both witches seemed to have waves of magic flowing around them. Helena's was a soft yellow and interjected were sparkles of crimson; Minerva had three colors, primarily that of green, with hints of blue and large swirls of alabaster. It was as if Hermione was seeing their magical signatures; but why were there three colors around Minerva and only two for Helena? The question was quickly forgotten as Minerva moved, and at once Hermione opened her mouth to intervene, but found that no words were at her command as flames seemed to jump from the grate and burst around Minerva, and she was gone in a whiff of smoke, leaving Hermione gapping in utter shock at what she had just witnessed. "What in Merlin's beard happened?"

Helena's body immediately relaxed, pain lining her face as she pulled her eyes from where Minerva had been a moment before to the other occupant in the room. "Nothing a few spells and a bottle of salve won't patch."

Hermione didn't know what she had expected, but those words were not it. She closed her mouth and started again, "Your hip…" Hermione cast a glance to where Minerva had been standing, "Her shoulder, you need treatment and she needs…"

"Her head shrunk another two sizes so it'll fit through a damn door." Helena snapped as she cast a diagnostic spell upon herself.

"What happened between the two of you?" Hermione breathed, still reeling from what she had just born witness to.

"We had a slight," She paused as if searching for the right word, "_Discord_."

"Discord?" Hermione shook her head, "You looked like you were going to kill each other."

Helena waved off the nonsense, "Poppy cock. Though," She muttered, frowning as she read the results from her spell. "There was a slight desire to go ahead and try." She placed her hand upon her hip, staunching the streaming flow of blood.

"Would you like me to…" Hermione nodded to the gaping wound, "Help you?" She stepped closer, "And what were the two of you on about?"

Her brow arched, crisp English accent lacing her words. "My granddaughter, and how she ended up in St. Mungos."

Hermione stopped moving as she realized who exactly Samantha Meaur was related to, "Samantha…Jordan is your daughter?" Hermione asked, innocence ringing from her cadence, helping to take the sting from Helena's wrath.

"Yes…"

Hermione nodded to the large wound, "Come, let me help you treat…"

"I can do it on my own!" Helena snapped, angry that she had gotten hurt, that she and Minerva had gone from a slight difference of opinion to a downright full scale argument; they hadn't had one that bad decades.

Hermione arched her brow, "No wonder why you and Minerva are such good friends."

Despite everything, Helena couldn't help the small smile from curling the corner of her lips. "She's a damn stubborn woman." She muttered to herself.

"Doesn't appear that you're a peach either."

"It seems as though I'm in good company." She nodded to Hermione, "Because, you remind me of a younger version of Minerva…ohhh…"

"Let me help you."

Helena cast a glance to the fireplace, momentarily thinking of returning home and ask Harold to assist in healing the wound along her hip; it was deep and the tissue would need to be re-knitted; however, that meant hurtful glances shared and little information. What she really wanted to do was talk to Harold about what happened today, but she couldn't and wouldn't be able to until the whole business with his department had ceased. And that could be months, the only reason years didn't come into play was because…Minerva didn't have years. "Could we move to your rooms?" She grimaced, "I don't want to be here when Minerva returns."

Hermione nodded, "Of course," She made to walk towards the gargoyle, but Helena groaned.

"No…" She winced, "I won't be able to walk up five flights of stairs." She turned to Albus. "Is Minerva at the…" The word, Ridge went unsaid, as she met his gaze. "She needs to have her shoulder treated."

Albus nodded, "I believe she will have it tended to."

"Albus…"

He shook his head, "Save it for Minerva."

Hermione watched the proud woman's shoulders sag, "Tell her I'm sorry."

"You can in the morning."

"Please tell her this evening." Helena whispered, "I want her to know…that…"

A tender smile spread across his face, "She already does, dear. Good night, Helena." And his visage vanished from the frame.

"Elgin." She yelled out before Hermione could question her; and at the sudden crack to her left, she turned to see a shaking head lined with white hair.

"I'se not happy with you'se Blonde's…"

"Berate me later, Elgin, will you please take us to Hermione's rooms?" She asked non-pulsed.

Elgin cast a glance from Helena to Hermione, yellow eyes remaining upon the oozing wound. Finally after a poignant pause, he nodded. "I'se takes you."

"Thank you." Helena murmured and then felt a swirl of magic, a burst and she was standing in Hermione's living room.

Hermione blinked, casting a glance about, mildly shocked that Elgin had transported them without touching either one; something she would have to speak with Minerva about later. At once, she turned to Helena, her blood soaking the front of her robes. "Here." She motioned, and her sofa slid across the wood floor, the arm coming to rest against the back of Helena's thigh and she quickly strode across the room. She stepped into her private rooms, the wardrobe snapping open, and she grasped a handful of ointments and tinctures. "I know a few spells that may…"

"I'll walk you through it." Helena muttered, "Do you have any chocolate?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded as she stepped back into the room, already unwrapping a bar. "Here." She handed it to the elder witch. "Is this…" She pointed to the large wound on her hip, "From your duel or your fight?"

"Her damn nails." Helena stated as she adjusted her wand within her hand, "The first spell you'll need to cast is a diagnostic spell. Diagníse. And the wand movement as such." She flicked her wand in a sweeping arc.

For the next half an hour, Helena proceeded to instruct Hermione on how to cast the spells, the wand movements and the pronunciation. They spoke of little else as Helena's strength remained shaky from her continual blood loss. As the last of the wound mended, Helena sighed in relief as the pain finally abated. "Now…" She relaxed fully against the arm of the sofa, her hip able to fully blend. "We just need a good bottle…"

* * *

Helena swirled the bronze timbered liquid in her glass still surprised that Hermione had a bottle of Silver Labeled Malt, given to her from Minerva of all people. "Are you sure?"

Hermione gave a nod, "It is best to drink amongst friends, and…" She raised her glass. "You look as though you need a glass of good whisky."

"It has been a long day." Helena conceded as her eyes remained upon Hermione's, while her thoughts drifted to the events from earlier today. Events that upon reflection were astoundingly stunning and truly unbelievable; and all because of…friendship and love. Helena found herself nodding, "Yes…to friends." She brought her gaze back to brown eyes.

They gave each other a small nod in way of a toast, both women taking a healthy swallow from their tumblers. Helena felt the familiar tingle and flavor bursts down her throat as she swallowed, relishing the rich effervescent taste. "I wish Minerva would figure out what made this year of malt so good."

"I'm sure she has tried."

"You're probably right." Helena conceded.

"What makes this year so different from the rest of the Silver Label?" Hermione questioned, enjoying the warmth bursting across her nerves from the large draught already ingested.

Helena leaned back into the sofa, "The rich coating and bubbling…"

"Did gas get sealed into the malt?"

"Minerva swears that the same recipe was followed and has been followed for the last century."

At the mention of Minerva's name, Hermione noted Helena's wistful expression. "What happened between the two of you earlier?" She asked softly.

The fire crackled in the background as time stretched on, Helena remaining quiet and staring into the world beyond as she tried to decide how much to share with the other woman; Hermione taking another sip as she quietly waited. And waited. Hermione curtailed her desire to shift as her right leg began to fall asleep, knowing that it was up to Helena to share in her own time what happened between the two life-long friends. And she had to admit to being rather curious as to what would cause that level of an argument between the two women.

Helena cleared her throat, "I…" She downed the rest of the contents of her glass, "Will ask that you not share this with anyone else, as it is intensely private to both Minerva and myself." She stated, lifting bright blue eyes upwards.

Hermione nodded, her curiosity increasing exponentially at Helena's remark, "Of course."

Helena reached forward, picking up the bottle and poured herself another generous portion of malt before leaning back. "The impetus was this afternoon, as Minerva deliberately transfigured Samantha…"

"What!?" Hermione interjected, "How? When…?" She thought back to her class, the occupants, the lesson. "She wasn't there…there would be no way…and Samantha's wand…"

"Samantha had transfigured the spell appropriately which is why her wand would show as such, because it wasn't her wand that cast the spell that caused Samantha to transfigure."

Hermione was momentarily dumbstruck, "Why on earth would she deliberately mis-transfigure a student? She has always been steadfastly against any type of spells being cast upon students. There must have been a good reason."

At this Helena sighed, heavily. "There was."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Then why…" Hermione let her question trail off.

"Because, it was Samantha. And…" Helena's gaze flickered to the glass and then to Hermione. "The reason behind it, puts me, Harold, Minerva…" She shook her head, "Even you in one hell of a predicament."

Hermione frowned, not understanding Helena's logic. "I'm not following."

"Kingsley has ordered Harold to send a detachment of the Unspeakables on assignment to monitor and report back to him regarding Minerva's and in conjunction, as you are with her, your movements."

Hermione vaguely heard her own intake of breath, "Unspeakables, as in…"

Helena merely nodded.

"But why have they been dispatched to follow Minerva?"

"I don't know, and…" Her voice broke, "I can't ask Harold."

"Then how did you find out?" And before Helena could answer, Hermione realized. "Samantha."

"He sent word with our house elf to Minerva." Helena's voice was becoming shaky, "And she provided a way for him to leave the Ministry before he charted a new mission and he shared with me…" Her voice broke as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"That he would be sending out Unspeakables to watch Minerva." Hermione finished.

"And I can't talk to him about it…"

"Why?" Hermione questioned.

"He's bound to a vow of silence regarding their missions once they have been chartered."

"What about the information shared at the Order meetings?"

Helena shook her head, "I don't know. We only had minutes together before a Ministry official interrupted us…" She ran a hand through her hair, "Damn Kingsley."

"What did Minerva say?"

A look of chagrin passed over Helena's face, "I…didn't let her talk much. I did tell her about, the Unspeakables…and then…our conversation digressed, quickly."

"There had to have been more to it than that."

"I inferred that Samantha was my granddaughter and that she had placed her in unnecessary risk, and she should let the Ministry take over the situation regarding Johannes and this entire situation never would have happened; including Harold having to send Unspeakables to watch her."

Hermione couldn't believe what Helena had just stated, she stared dumbfounded at the other witch and as she was about to ask her reasoning for why Minerva should trust the Ministry after everything that had happened the past several months; Helena continued on.

"And…" Helena's voice trembling, "It came up about her always being there and that she doesn't always need to be…" Helena paused, closing her eyes as Minerva's words reverberated through her soul. _In less than a year, it won't be._ A tear slipping off her cheek, "Damn her stubbornness…" She breathed out as another tear followed suit.

"You're worried." Hermione whispered, realizing the reason for Helena's earlier harsh words to Minerva.

"Of course I'm worried, she's…" Helena's throat caught at the word and she found herself modifying it, "Going to get herself killed one time."

At that thought, Hermione found a soft smile curling her lips. "She's too stubborn to let something like that happen."

Helena thought back through the years, including the day Jordan had almost died and how true that statement had always been. And…how true she wished it could still be. "A lot has changed over the years."

"I don't think it's her self confidence."

Helena couldn't stop the chuckle from slipping across her lips if she had wanted to, "Of that, I am certain. Although, having Albus for husband, didn't help matters; they both always exude that quiet, self assurance and self confidence that denotes everything they do."

"She would say the same thing regarding you and your healing."

Helena felt the ache pull at her chest, the constant pain she had lived with for the past six months as Minerva's condition worsened; and the realization that her best friend would be dead within the year – and she was one of the best healers in the magical world, and there wasn't one thing she could do to forestall the inevitable, except be there for her. And each day that went by, bringing the end nearer, was killing her in equal measure. "She…" Helena paused to take another sip, "Has always put others before herself, and…just once," She glanced up to meet warm brown eyes, "I would like her to put herself first."

"You're worried that she is taxing herself too much? That her health is beginning to wane?"

Helena knew of the conversation that Minerva had shared with Hermione, and also knew that tonight was a not a night to delve into those matters. As they were too close to her own heart and feelings, that she would not be able to maintain the ruse that Minerva had erected. "In part, yes." She answered honestly, but altered the course of the conversation. "However, I asked earlier that you not divulge what we speak of to anyone, because of the personal nature."

Hermione nodded, "You had said…"

"As it deals with an event in our mutual past that altered several lives that night;

and remains a rather tender topic between she and I."

"What night?"

"Hermione, I first met Minerva on the train to Hogwarts; we became great friends. There were five others from our year, we were close to; Lizza Lorraine, Melinda Masterson, Philip Templeton, William Wallace, and David Diggory."

"Wallace, as in Rory…?" Hermione interjected, trying to understand.

"Not familial relation, though according to Rory they are from the same clan." Helena stated, "Only Philip, Minerva and I remain alive; and both Philip and I can attribute our lives to Minerva." Flashes of the bombs falling through London, the way the buildings shook, the rubble, the bloody wizarding duels, "And as much as I hate to admit, she has always been fearless; willing to go where all others fear to tread, often times heedless of the pervasive danger. Which, as I said, I have often wished she would stop doing, as she has almost died more often than I can count. In particular…" Her fingers tightened around the tumbler, matching the strain in her voice. "The evening that Death Eaters went after Jordan."

Hermione sat closer to the edge of her seat; she had been interested before, learning the small tidbits of Minerva's life; but, from Helena's pensive expression, her curiosity and interest increased fifteen fold. "There are no records of injury or attack against Jordan." Hermione stated, recalling the names of the victims and their families by the Death Eaters.

"Nor is there record of a Callum McGonagall having been killed." Helena rebuked before continuing on, "Harold learned that Aegis had learned of where Jordan lived and went to intercede."

"And Minerva joined him?"

"Minerva made a decision to join him, however, later I learned that she choose to help Harold. Rory was with her, and together the three of them saved Jordan."

"What of the death eaters?"

"They killed three of the seven, Aegis Black was one of the wizards although he wasn't captured; according to Harold, Jordan and Rory, the wizard's battle between them was ferocious. Minerva almost lost her right arm in the duel, and was left with a few scars from the encounter. Aegis didn't fair much better."

"I'm sure that it was intense, but I would have thought she would have been thrilled to help save Jordan."

Helena gave a single nod, "She was and is; but…as I said she made a choice. And because of that choice, her godson and his wife died that night."

Hermione frowned, "Who?"

"James and Lily Potter."

* * *

The flames to the study roared to life, and Minerva glanced up from her book to see Harold's face peer around the room. "Is Helena with you?"

Minerva frowned, her shoulder still tingling from her recent 'encounter' with Helena; who she had left at Hogwarts, knowing that neither one was in the mood for rational conversation. "I have nah seen her since I left Hogwarts." Worry flooded, her veins at Harold's expression. "She isn't home?"

The flames shook, "No. I sensed a great deal of pain earlier, but it slowly receded. I figured…" His eyes roved over her figure, "You were discussing events from earlier today." He obliquely stated.

"We did, and shall I merely say that feathers and fur will need to be cleaned from my office floor."

He shook his head, "For that I am truly sorry."

"And for the events that passed earlier today to you, you have my apologies." Minerva stated; both knowing full well what could not be said, and yet both extremely thankful for the other's discretion.

"And you mine."

Minerva set the book down as she stood up, "Let me see if Helena remained at the castle, Harold."

"Thank you, Minerva." He rumbled, "For everything."

"And you." She replied seconds before the flames reverted back to their normal color and at once she sunk her hand in to the floo powder, "Hogwarts." Her brogue thick as she snapped her wrist and the flames turned green and in a second, her office spun into view.

"Elgin." She called out as she waved her hand over her robes, the soot from the grate vanishing.

"Mistress." His large yellow eyes were blinking up at her, dismay evident upon his features that she had yet to change her blood stained, torn robes. "You'se needs a new set of robes?"

"Harold stated that Helena did not return this evening."

"No's." His large ears flapped, "She'se went with Professor's Granger and remains at Hogwarts."

"Hermione?" Minerva questioned, making sure she had heard Elgin correctly as she thought back several hours, vaguely recalling Hermione appearing in her office seemingly standing as though lead lined her feet and in shock at her and Helena's slight argument.

"They'se went to Professor's Granger's rooms."

Minerva nodded, "Very well." She swept to the side, and with practiced ease the quill slipped into her fingers and she penned a note, sealing it with her emblem. "Please take this to her, and leave my office open for her to access this evening when she is ready to retire so she does not have to travel to the gates."

Elgin stared at Minerva not understanding the witch, but nodded. "I'se do nots understand why the Mistress is so nice to Blonde's after today."

"Because," Minerva said, tears in her emerald eyes as she met his large ones, "She's my friend Elgin; and there have been days when I have said some less than savory things to her too."

Slowly he nodded, "I thinks I understand."

"And, she's just worried about Harold and I."

"We'se all is worried about you, Mistress." He whispered.

"Remember what I told you Elgin, and…" She leaned over kissing his forehead, "It'll all work out." She stood back up.

"Is the Mistress returning to the Ridge this evening?"

"No." Minerva began walking toward the brass staircase, "I shall remain here, but please do not inform that to anyone and once Helena leaves this evening, I would like to reset the password to the Gargoyle." She murmured as she began ascending the stairs.

"Shall we send out letters this evening after 1am?"

"No." Minerva replied, "It can wait until after breakfast."

Elgin felt his brow crinkle at the Mistress' odd request. _Perhaps she needs some time alone._ "Very well." He crisply replied before vanishing to deliver her letter to Helena.

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!


	38. Chapter 36 November 11th, 2009

**Chapter 36 ~ November 11****th****, 2009 (Wednesday)**

Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, head still splitting despite the pint of hangover potion she had already this morning, the hundreds of voices were ringing in her head. She forced herself to smile as she passed Pomona and Neville; and her gaze momentarily stopped upon Minerva.

She sat gaily speaking with Filius, laughter upon her regal features, back straight, movements not even appearing jolted or constrained and Hermione almost shook her head in disbelief. Minerva's gaze flickered to the side, their eyes briefly locking before she turned her attention back to Filius and Hermione forced herself to continue walking. The rest of breakfast passed in a blur for Hermione. Her mind rehashing her conversation last night with Helena; and the heartfelt words and precious history shared to her.

She didn't know what to think about what happened on October 31st, 1981 and the decision Minerva made. A decision that had profoundly affected every wizard and witch's lives in the Britain; including her dearest friend's life and he didn't even know it. No one did. She and Rory went to Jordan's home and not the Potter's.

It had been much later in the evening when Hermione asked if Minerva had ever divulged why she choose Jordan…

_Helena pursed her lips, blinking. "I think…" She pushed herself upwards and off of the arm of the sofa, dropping her hand from her face. "I may be drunk enough to answer."_

_ Hermione tipped her glass up, "To a fine malt."_

_ Helena nodded, "Indeed." She chuckled, "Indeed." She finished the last of her glass, "As I said earlier," She picked up the nearly empty bottle and poured half of the remaining amber liquid into her glass and the rest into Hermione's. "Harold went to save Jordan."  
_

_ "What does that have…"_

_ "We're bound." She stated without any preamble. "Have been for decades."_

_ "As in…magically bound?" Hermione couldn't believe what Helena had said. She had read of the process, had heard that some people still practiced the archaic ritual, but to speak with someone who was bound._

_ "Don't look so shocked." Helena chortled, "It was a wonderful decision and I have not once regretted it."_

_ "You're a healer…"_

_ "And a rather adept one," Helena replied, "At least I have been told as such."_

_ "Why in Merlin's name would…" Hermione's razor intellect sluggishly trying to process all of the ramifications as to what that meant. "You do that? If one dies, so does the other."_

_ "I am acutely aware of that fact."  
_

_ Hermione's eyes flashed as she realized why Minerva made the decision she did. "If Harold would have died that night, you would have too."_

_ There was a long pause, the fire crackling in the background as the two women stared at the other, blue eyes finally falling. "Yes."_

_ "And the whole situation today…" Hermione leaned forward, drawing Helena's gaze back to her. "Regarding Harold, the Unspeakables, Minerva…and not being able to talk to your husband…"_

_ "He is my other half." Helena whispered, "We can feel each other's emotions, have the ability to pull upon the other's magic, in essence, we have become one. And I can't talk to him about my best friend." Tears welled up in her crystalline eyes, "Because it may get back to Kingsley."_

_ "But…what about everything…"_

_ "Kingsley can only tap information moving forward." She sighed, heavily. "And I have no idea what type of information, and if I ask, Kingsley will know that Harold was able to leak the information before the mission was cast."_

_ "But you said you only had minutes."_

_ Helena gave a nod, eyes gravitating to the last of the Silver Malt left in her tumbler. "We have been bound for decades Hermione." She quietly stated, "And he trusts me, and I him. And he let me scan his memories from this morning's meeting." She swallowed hard, "I felt his worry this morning, it was consuming. Then I got the message from Poppy regarding Samantha about three hours later, I couldn't find Minerva…and then I saw Harold's memories…"_

_

* * *

  
_

Minerva absently walked from the Great Hall, legs subconsciously taking her up the stairs as her mind churned through this morning's correspondence and the odd note from Kingsley.

"How are you fairing this morning?" Minerva paused recognizing the voice at once and felt her heart lift despite keeping her cool reserve in place as she turned.

"Professor." She professionally replied, "I'm doing quite well. You?"

Hermione cocked her brow, "How many headache potions do you take after finishing off a bottle of malt?"

Minerva felt the corner of her lip curl into a smile, "At least two."

They rounded the corner and Minerva stepped onto the second floor, "How is your shoulder?"

"Stiff, but tolerable."

Hermione scanned Minerva's reserved face, "Have you spoken with Helena this morning?"

The stone wall became icy in a singular heartbeat. "No, and it would be unwise to interfere."

"She is just worried about you." Hermione's voice barely above a whisper.

"And I her." Minerva replied, "Regarding last evening…" Her eyes darted down the steps and the approaching students. "I need to speak with you about some information Helena shared with me that concerns you, if you have some time this afternoon."

"I'll be up after my last period, just after 3."

"Very good." Minerva was about to turn, but paused. "And I'll have Elgin bring something by this morning that will take care of the after effects from your evening."

Hermione looked at her doubtful, "I already had two headache potions."

Minerva merely gave her a warm smile before her emerald outer robe flourished around her slender frame, and her long strides were echoing off the stonewalls.

* * *

Helena stepped through the grate and stopped as her formidable friend glanced up from her desk, drilling her with emerald hawk eyes. "I'm sorry."

Minerva didn't move, quill nestled in her fingers, which she slowly placed into the inkpot. "So am I." She said, as her eyes locked back to blue ones.

"Minerva…" She took a step forward, "I didn't mean to lash out last night. It's just…" She paused, "I can't stand the thought of losing you, and Harold…" She choked up, "God…life is suppose to get easier as we get older."

Minerva stood up and walked around the large oak desk, "It's suppose to, but…it seems that has been reserved for others."

They embraced the other, arms wrapping tightly around the other.

"How are we to get through this, this time?" Helena breathed.

"A day at a time." Minerva stated pulling back, "And we will manage."

Blue eyes searched green ones, "And after?" She whispered, "What then?"

Water pulled at the corner of Minerva's eyes, "You'll…" She blinked causing one to stream down her cheek as her voice broke, "Have to go on." She tried to force a smile upon her face. "Without me."

Helena reached forward, grabbing onto Minerva. "I don't think I can."

"Someone has to watch both our children and grandchildren." Minerva's thick accent filling the scant space between them.

"And who is going to watch over me?" Helena's voice rumbled as she loosed her arms to lean back, green and blue eyes sparkling.

"I'll always watch over you." Minerva whispered.

"And I you."

* * *

Hermione stared at the letter, again her heart hammering in against the inside of her ribs. She had been expecting to see Minerva this afternoon, ensure that she was alright, have the opportunity to glean some additional information from her regarding last evening, and perhaps understand the gap that seemed to have developed between them since she suspended her tutorial lessons, but…as her eyes re-read the note, it was obvious that was not the case.

_Hermione,_

_ I hope the small bottle Elgin brought to you earlier helped to ease your headache. Regarding last evening, Helena stated that she gave you a succinct historical rendition that at times rears its head between us. And while our arguments are few, they are intense and I am sorry that you witnessed one of them. _

_ When speaking with Helena, she stated that she informed you about the shadows upon the wind that shall be trailing us moving forward. At first, they will only follow me, but it shall not take them long before they include you too. For that I am sorry. _

_ I estimate you have two perhaps three weeks before the shadows will be drawn to you too. Enjoy your freedom while you can. _

_ I will not be available for our meeting this afternoon, something else requires my immediate attention._

_ Minerva_

_

* * *

  
_

Harry stared into icy blue eyes, "You're sure?"

Draco nodded, "Quite. But, you don't have time."

Harry took a breath, "Alright." He reached up running his right hand through his unruly hair. "Alright. I'll speak with Gawain and send additional…"

Draco reached out, grasping Harry's arm. "They've infiltrated the Aurors."

Harry felt his heart stop, "What? Who?"

Blond hair shook, "I don't know who, only that he has."

"Has Lucius sided…?"

"He's unwilling to side either way, but Andre has been spending an extraordinary amount of time at the Manor."

"And…"

"Don't Potter." Draco interrupted, "Leave my father out of this." His eyes turning cold, "Besides, you have far larger problems to contend with."

Harry gave a nod, and in one deft motion flipped the hood of the cloak over his head and strode quietly down the alley.

* * *

Lucius kneeled over, and at once, she felt his hands wrap around her ribs and she was free floating. It took every ounce of self-control not to stretch her claws outward and to give the perception that she indeed cared for the man holding her now. When in reality, after watching Hermione's memories last week; her disdain for him was palatable, and yet…there was a part of her that still felt, sorry for him.

"Remember," He quietly stated as he ascended the steps, "Scoop is skittish."

Minerva nudged his hand, indicating that she did indeed understand.

"And," He set her down along the landing, kneeling down as if petting her. "I won't be able to get you through the wards until after midnight."

Minerva sat down, tail swishing in the air, her frustration at having to wait almost nine hours until she could leave. Nine hours she would have to remain as an animagus. She hoped the information was worth it. She gave a nod and stood, easily traversing the stairs as she began the countdown, knowing that she would be quite uncomfortable later. Lucius striding past her and opening the door to hushed voices, and Minerva darted into the room running along the wood cases, eyes taking in the splendor and persons in a moment.

She had to fight her initial reaction at seeing Harkiss sitting opposite of Andre; and not hiss, rather to quietly jump onto the edge of a seat with a blanket and kneed the area as a cat would normally do, while her ears remained perked and she proceeded to get comfortable for several hours.

"And Douglass?"

"Three guards down the center hall…"

* * *

Filius frowned, "She hasn't returned?"

Rowena shook her long ebony hair. "No."

Pomona came up, running her hand along his shoulder. "I'm sure she's just been delayed."

"Perhaps." He said, glancing back up to Rowena and Helga. "Has she sent word?"

Both ladies looked at the other and then back to the Deputy, "No." They answered in unison.

Pomona fought off a yawn, "It's barely after midnight."

"And as the years have passed, her late nights have become few and very far between."

"Come to bed," Pomona stated, "And have Breck wake us if she isn't back by 2."

"I'll be along shortly, love." He feigned a smile, "Go ahead."

"She's fine."

Filius nodded, "I know." He kissed her softly, "Get some rest."

"Don't wait up too long."

"I won't." Filius replied, appearing to return to his marking, but his mind was fixed upon the whereabouts of his friend.

* * *

Minerva tiredly glanced up to Lucius and stilled her mind, forcing her body to revert back to normal, the magic pulsing and burning along her arms as it drained her already low reserves. "Thank you, Lucius." She stated, trying to remain focused while her hands remained buried in her cloak, obscured from view.

"It sounds as though you will need to find a way to alert Azkaban."

"It would seem prudent."

The moon's shadows danced across his creamy face, concern etched upon his features. "Are you sure your alright?"

"It has been a long day." Minerva obliquely answered, "Stemming from long weeks and even longer months."

"Do get some rest Minerva." His words as soft as the wind.

"And you, Lucius." She gave a nod to his Manor, "Tread softly."

Blue eyes sparkled, "Always."

"Oh…" Her brow quirked, "And it seems that Kingsley has taken to having me followed."

A quiet, rich laugh burst across the grounds. "Do tell me you are joking. Follow you?"

"In the name of protection."

"How Slytherin of him."

Her brow arched, "Endearingly so."

A warmth blanketing his words, "Be careful."

"You too." She whispered, "Please thank Narcissa, and please tell her to watch the shadows."

"I will this evening."

"And Draco…"

Lucius' shoulders slackened, "I know, he is exposing himself too openly with Potter."

"Caution is paramount."

"I'll speak with him, though if you hear anything…"

The quietly inferred message ringing clear in the cool crisp night, "I shall send word."

An unusual warmth lit blue eyes from within at her reply, "Till next time."

"If we remain so lucky." She replied as she took a step off backwards of Malfoy's property and with a quiet pop was gone. Regal angular features stared off into the black for another moment, feeling the crisp wind lick his face, marveling at the paradox of life before he turned on his heel; black cloak swirling around him, blanketing out the moonlight as he strode back to his ancestral home.

* * *

Helena leaned back into the strong, sure arms of her husband and his muscular chest. "How was your day?"

His lips grazed her neck. "Exhausting. You?"

"The Ministry brought what was left of Evans body."

"Does Minerva know?"

"I haven't spoken with her since late this morning."

She felt his arms involuntarily tighten around her, "How is she, today?"

"Good." Helena murmured, as her fingers slowly ran up his arm. "Tired, though." She sighed, "The last thing she needed was for the two of us to argue."

"I think that was the last thing that either of you needed, love."

"She's trying to remain strong," Helena continued on as though Harold hadn't spoken, her body crumbling against his, "But, she…" Helena shook her head as the tears she had kept at bay since leaving Hogwarts began to fall, "She's losing…and I'm losing her bit by bit as death slowly pulls upon her."

"She isn't dead yet."

Helena closed her eyes, "No." She whispered, voice breaking. "But, she no longer sees that there is hope for life either."

Harold slid around, arms still around his wife's frame, legs around her waist. "Then see it for her."

Slowly, blue eyes opened to peer into the warm, inviting ones of her mate's. "How? When her heart lies elsewhere, and yearns to join what was once taken."

"She needs to find something worth living for." Harold reached up, tracing the elegant line of her jaw.

"I don't know if there is a love powerful enough…"

"Love can't be measured." Harold stated, "Trust me," His eyes sparkled, "We've tried."

"But to offset the bonding, and to leave Albus." Disbelief ringing from her words.

"Meric's code has imbedded within it, that his daughter would find love twice."

Helena easily recited the frame, "Eternal love shall be found within my daughter's life twice; once early the second far later. Minerva believes that Albus was the second…"

"What do you believe?" Harold quietly asked.

"I…" She paused, and Harold could feel her turbulent thoughts. "I hope…" She met his warm eyes and felt her heart lift as he gave her nod to continue. "That she is wrong."

"What does your heart tell you?" He quietly inquired as his eyes intently bored into his wife's.

"She is destined for love again." Helena whispered as Hermione's image flashed across her mind.

He leaned forward, breath across her face. "Then we are of similar opinion."

"I don't know if there is enough time for her to let her guard down enabling someone to see her, and love her as she deserves."

His lips danced softly across hers, "For love…" He pulled back, staring deeply into her eyes. "There is always ample time. Even for Minerva."

* * *

Hermione stretched, feeling the muscles of her arms and the backs of her legs pull as she stood too. She needed to throw another log upon the fire, the flames burning low and she began to walk towards the hearth; eyes taking notice of the time, half past twelve. She absently placed two descent logs upon the fire, the wood immediately crackling as the water dried from the timber.

"Godric." She turned toward the aged portrait, "Is the Headmistress awake?"

At once, he stopped feigning sleep, his image shimmered, and then re-solidified. "She has yet to return this evening."

Hermione stopped moving mid-stride. "I thought she had returned after dinner."

Godric shook his head, "She did not."

"Elgin." Hermione called out, worry immediately beating in her veins as the seconds dragged on and she waited. And waited. She was about to summon him again, but a crack sounded to her left.

"Professor's Granger." He said, blinking up at her. "Is something the matter?"

"Do you know where Minerva has gone?"

Elgin stared at her for a long moment, "No." He answered simply.

Hermione fought off her own frustration at his less than forthcoming response. "Do you know when she is due to return to Hogwarts?"

"No."

"Has she gone somewhere else for the evening?"

"No."

"Elgin…!" Exasperation leeching into her voice. "She has been gone all day."

He gave a grave nod, "I'se knows."

"Please, can you at least tell me if she informed anyone where she was going to?"

"She received a note after her meeting with Blondie's and left shortly after. I do not knows anything else. She did send three letters out before she left. One to you, to Master Flitwick and Master Rory."

"Does Filius know where she has gone?"

"I'se do nots know."

"Godric." Hermione turned to the portrait again, "Is Filius awake?"

The portrait frowned, but again he phased and within moments returned. "He is."

"Will you ask him if he knows where Minerva has gone to?"

"There are such things as fire calls." He muttered before stepping from his frame again.

Hermione felt like the seconds were crawling by as she awaited his return, her mind spinning with the possibilities and dangers that Minerva may be facing, alone. And why hadn't Minerva contacted her? Why did she not ask her to accompany her?

Was she always this stubborn? Did Minerva not realize that just because she needed some time to reconnoiter her thoughts did not mean that she was shirking her responsibilities? And to have not taken someone…was this her way of keeping others safe? Helena shared that Minerva went that night because of Harold, and if Harold had died…Helena would have too. Is that why Minerva kept so many people at arm's length? Was she afraid of having to make decisions based upon obligations? If so, Minerva was not obligated to Hermione...

"He says, that she only shared with him that she was stepping out for the whole of the evening, but would return prior to the completion of this evenings rounds."

"That's two hours ago." Hermione muttered to herself, "Has he received word since…"

Godric shook his head, "You know what Filius does."

She turned to Elgin, "Can you get word to Rory?"

Elgin gave a nod, "It may be some time. I'se ask Bonnie."

"Have her send word immediately."

He gave a nod, "At once." And with a crack matching the one from the fire, he was gone leaving her alone, with turbulent thoughts and mixed feelings. Sighing, she strode to the window, thoughts riveted upon the missing woman. And how important Minerva had become to her, and how she would never forgive herself if something happened because of her own foolish actions.

* * *

Minerva's knees sank into the cold ground, her body utterly spent as her cloak fluttered about her still form. Her breaths were shallow and rapid as her vision warbled and her beloved Hogwarts faded from view; her body collapsing, blackened fingers splaying outwards trying to still the impact.

She could feel the cold seeping through her clothes, and the way it moved across her exposed skin; helping her to remain semi-coherent as the smell of wet earth graced her senses.

She tried to push herself forward, but her body remained fixed as though cemented and with the last of her strength; she focused upon the gates, the magic…Hogwarts magic, the bond, her and Albus' and then of Hogwarts…only to find utter exhaustion and blackness as a shuddering breath escaped her ashen lips before unconsciousness claimed her.

* * *

At once Rory sat upright, wand drawn and dagger already poised in his other hand at the abrupt noise. "What are you doing here?"

Bonnie stepped closer, the firelight dancing across her wool clothes and white hair, "The letter you received from Mistress Minerva today."

Rory eased back, sitting down. "Yes."

"She has not returned, and was due back to Hogwarts over two hours ago." Bonnie relayed.

"Surely you are mistaken." He cast his eyes to the clock above the mantle.

"Elgin has just sent word."

Rory felt his side pull as he jumped up, his body begrudging the fact that he was up. "She went to Malfoy Manor."

"Do you wish I or Elgin to discreetly inquire?"

He pocketed his dagger and wand, "Give me but a moment." He summoned a shirt as he stepped into the loo. He returned to the living room, face still damp, shoes laced and shirt on, albeit hanging open. "Is Hermione still awake?"

"She and Filius both are."

"To Hermione's rooms." He answered as her fingers wrapped around his forearm while his grasped the edge of his dragon hide cloak.

* * *

Hermione felt the cold bite at her skin as the ghostly image of Malfoy Manor could be seen over a hundred meters away. "Why here?" Hermione asked as Rory turned to the gothic structure.

"She didna say, only that she would be here." He cast a long look upon the grounds, "Bonnie, Elgin." He nodded towards the Manor. "If you would…"

Both house elves glanced to the other and then to him before giving him nod and vanishing.

"Where are they going?" Hermione asked, stepping forward, only to feel his arm halt her movement across her chest.

"They willna set off the wards, and will be able to tell if Minerva remains upon the grounds."

"And if she isn't?" Hermione had a deep sense of foreboding sweep through her.

"Then we shall have to wait until either she resurfaces or sends word." He replied.

* * *

Hermione turned her hands over enjoying the warmth exuded by the fire, wondering where Minerva had gone. And how long it would be before she reappeared. _Surely, she will return prior to breakfast. _Hermione thought, desperately trying not to worry any further regarding Minerva's safety.

After all, Rory was confident that she was fine, believing that she had pursued another lead. And he has known her for years, was like a brother. The fire snapped. _She was just being over protective; having seen a softer side of Minerva, _she chastised herself. _She has been fine without you, or anyone else's help for that matter for years. Do not make more of this, than it is_. She thought stepping away from the warmth. She cast one final glance to the clock, she had to be up in less than five hours.

Shaking her head, she strode from her study, mind already playing the scene she would undoubtedly see on the morrow upon entering the Great Hall. Minerva sitting next to Filius, laughing as though nothing had gone wrong and that she had not been gone for most of the prior evening, exuding her usual calm demeanor.

As she walked by the window to her room, she paused as the moon's rays glinted off the drifting flakes. _The season's first snow, _her eyes took in the ghostly image, already picturing the sun's brilliant rays as they came across the lake and pearly white earth.

"Be safe tonight, Minerva." She breathed into the stillness, before turning away from the window and heading to bed.

* * *

A/N: Can't guarantee an update on Friday, because you just finished reading it ;) but going to try and have the next chapter done by the end of the coming weekend. Gazes over at the stacks of work put off this weekend…'uh-oh'.


	39. Chapter 37 November 12th, 2009

**Chapter 37 ~ November 12****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

Filius cast a glance about the room, an unearthly chill upon the morning air. "Hermione!" He called out, while igniting the fire in the hearth. He levitated three logs into the grate while waiting, trying to remain calm despite his own anxiety regarding the situation.

The door to his left burst open, Hermione grasping a robe about herself, hair askew, face haggard. "Filius?"

"Sorry to wake you," He rocked back on his heels, "But, I was hoping you would be available to search the grounds prior to breakfast."

"Minerva has not returned?"

Filius shook his head. "No. The wards have not shifted since your return last night."

"Rory and I went to Malfoy Manor and…she was not present."

"Do you know where she went afterwards?"

"No." Hermione answered. "Neither does Rory."

"What about Helena?"

Hermione wasted no time, walking forward and sinking her hand into the blue powder that would enable her to fire call. "Harrison Hovel." She stated, the flames bursting apart.

Both Filius and Hermione waited for a response, the only sound coming from the fire.

"Hermione?" Helena murmured. "What time is it?"

"Just after 5. Have you spoken to Minerva since yesterday afternoon?"

The last vestiges of sleep vanished from Helena's consciousness. "No. Is something wrong?"

"She has not returned since she left yesterday afternoon."

Helena knelt before the flames, "Have you spoken with Rory?"

"We went to where she told him she was going yesterday afternoon, but she had already left."

"And she sent no word?"

"Not that we are aware of."

Helena sighed, "Are you sure? Because, there are times that Rory will not divulge her whereabouts."

Rory's voice cut through the flames, Hermione's head turning, shock prevalent upon her face. "Not this time, Helena."

"Did you speak with Albus?"

An echo of "No's." Reverberated through her chambers.

"Harold, dear." She turned away from the fire, "Have you heard from Minerva?" She asked, knowing full well that he could ask the Unspeakables, but she would not hear otherwise.

She watched as he wrapped a robe around his naked body while stepping from their room. "No." He rumbled, "Is she not at Hogwarts?"

"Apparently not." Helena replied, man and wife sharing a knowing look; and he gave a nod before leaving the living room.

"We'll speak with Albus and call back." Hermione's voice already drifting from the grate.

"Rory…" Helena sighed, "Did you check to see if Minerva went home? She and I had a bit of a row the previous night."

"She is na at either the Ridge or the Manor." He replied, causing Hermione to cast a brief glance to him.

"Please let me know as soon as you hear anything."

"We will." Hermione replied as the flames and coals returned to normal. "Filius, can you speak with Albus?"

Rory turned to both Filius and Hermione, "I will begin checking the Forest."

"And I the grounds."

* * *

"Albus." Filius felt his frustration mounting, "Wake up."

Severus cocked a brow at the Deputy's growing agitation. "He has not been awake since last evening."

"Since what time?" Filius asked, turning to Snape.

"Around nine last eve." Came the dispassionate reply.

"Has anything else happened out of the ordinary since Minerva's departure yesterday?"

Dilys' leaned forward, "She has not returned, has she?"

"No." Filius replied.

Everard answered his previous question, "There has been nothing unusual."

Filius frowned, "Someone please find me if Albus re-awakens."

The entire gallery of Headmistress's and Headmasters consented, and without a glance backwards, Filius departed Minerva's office. The door sealed and all eyes turned back to Albus, waiting.

Each one noting the subtle shake that had taken hold of his portrait, and the bluish hue of his lips…

* * *

Rory stopped, ears listening as he stilled his breath upon the cold air; the scent of snow and earth tickling his nose. There were few tracks upon the ground, and not one was human nor that of a cat; or more importantly, Minerva's animagus print.

His eyes scanned the shrubbery, looking for damage or broken twigs. There were none, save for the ones he had just stepped through.

_Damn you Minerva. _He thought, heart hurting at the notion that something else may have happened to her. "It was a simple reconnaissance mission." He muttered before forcing himself onward, eyes searching for any semblance of her whereabouts.

* * *

Harold felt his anger erupt, "What do you mean that you have not seen her since yesterday morning!?" His maroon cloak billowing behind him, drifts of snow coating the silk lining.

The closest to Harold stepped forward, the blurry lines of his face coming into view. "She must have a way other than the floo network to leave Hogwarts."

Harold felt the information in him, part of him wanting to divulge Minerva's secret, but it remained buried as he took in a deep breath. "Find her, Anthony."

The man gave a curt nod, "Do you know where she has gone or even where she went yesterday eve?"

"Only that she left and has not returned to Hogwarts since." He stepped backwards as Hermione's form came closer, his own voice dropping. "Remember what I told you."

Anthony nodded, as did the other three men upon the detail. "We do, but…" A look of chagrin passed his face, "We thought you were placing more faith in the Headmistress than was due because of your association to her."

"Heed my words, gentlemen. I meant them. And you are under my purview, not the Minister's. Remember that. As for Minerva, she will be your most challenging charge. Now find her, for if she dies, I will send the lot of you home to tell my wife that her best friend has been killed and then place you in St. Mungos under her care." He arced his wand and at once stepped through a vortex and was gone.

* * *

Pomona's eyes immediately darted to the teacher's door as it creaked open, and the hope she momentarily held disintegrated at seeing the tired, worn expression of her husband. They shared a knowing look, and she knew he had yet to hear any news regarding Minerva, and then his face transformed, as if Minerva herself had cast a spell upon his worn features transfiguring worried eyes into ones that were seemingly carefree…

"Good morning." He stated to his colleagues, tenor seemingly jovial and sincere as he made his way to his waiting breakfast. "No…" He replied to Marx, "She will not be attending breakfast this morning, as she was called away rather early."

Marx peered over his blue glasses, "Will she be back this evening?"

"Yes." Filius replied.

"I wish to speak with her regarding the curriculum adjustments for the spring term."

Filius felt Pomona's fingers upon his thigh, her gentle yet reassuring presence. "If you are available this weekend, it sounds as though you will need more than an hour of her time."

* * *

Hermione trudged forward, the snow cutting across her face and despite the weight of the cloak, the chill seemed to cut to her skin. She had already walked the western ridge, and was making her way behind the lake, eyes noticing the freshly fallen snow along the edge of the lapping water; ice crystals forming along the stalks of grass and cattail leaves indicating that winter was truly underway.

She cast a glance to the east, the sun rising over the mountains, and Hermione paused, imagining it was the beginning of June and the cool breeze was a welcome respite to the warm rays. But, as she opened her eyes, that was not the case, and the drifts of snow were still before her.

Stepping around a branch, she heard a splash of water and then felt a rush of cold across her foot. "Dammit." She snapped as she picked up her foot, murky water draining off her shoe. She fumbled forward along the snow-covered bank, and as soon as she found solid footing, she cast a drying spell upon her shoe. _Figures,_ she thought, _haven't found Minerva or even any markings that would indicate that she had been here. _She glanced towards the castle, light gleaming off the parapets as smoke billowed upwards from Hagrid's Hut; and then returned her attention ahead. She would go to the gates and then retrace her steps outside the massive iron wall from the north to western ridge.

It took her another half hour to reach the gates. They opened with a creak as she waved her wand; and she stepped through, the gates clattering close and the wards re-sealing. Turning, Hermione cast a glance along the road to Hogsmeade and a feeling of dread swelled in the base of her stomach at the bulge in the middle of the road. "No." She said, shaking her head, her body already running forward. "No. Minerva!" She felt sick as she neared the white shape that was about the length of a body, emerald fabric showing through, heart hammering in her ears, "Elgin!" She screeched as she slid to a stop, falling upon her knees as her hands began brushing the snow from the all to still figure. "God no." Tears were falling from her eyes, splattering upon the fresh snow as she uncovered more and more of the body.

"No…no…" She found the edge of the cloak and moved it; the snow easily falling away from the previously hidden figure and ashen features of Minerva McGonagall. Half numb fingers slid to her pulse along her neck, feeling… "Be alive." Hermione breathed.

Time stopped for Hermione as she waited…and then felt a miracle throb against her forefingers. "Come on." She breathed, "Elgin, where in the blazes are you!" And realization struck Hermione as she went to levitate Minerva, noticing her extended hand reaching outwards. "Of course, he can't hear me." She went to stand, but paused, casting a look to Minerva feeling torn, but knowing that this was by far the most expedient and at once scrambled the 10 meters away, fingers upon the gate. "Elgin." She stated, and unlike normal, she felt a rush of magic swirl around her, and then he was standing next to her.

"Professor's…"

"Help me." Hermione breathed, interrupting his statement. And she watched as he turned his head and to her horror, the color drained from his grey face upon seeing Minerva's still body.

"Mistress…" He breathed out, "No."

"Take us to her chambers." Hermione stated, already moving back to Minerva's side. As she knelt down, she glanced over, and saw that Elgin had yet to move. "Elgin." He still remained fixed, "Elgin."

And before Hermione could blink he was gone, and standing by her side and Minerva's, and then she felt a ear humming crack and she was sitting in the middle of Minerva's living room. "Elgin, can you please get Helena?"

Elgin needed no prompting and at once he vanished, and Hermione pulled out her wand banishing Minerva's cloak and outer robes by the time Elgin reappeared with Helena.

Vaguely, Hermione realized that Helena was still in her robe as she kneeled down. "She needs to be treated for exposure." She said as she waved her hand easily reading the diagnostic. "Her body temperature is perilously low." She reached beneath Minerva, and then turned to Elgin. "To her shower."

"What about the area behind her shower?" Hermione interjected as Elgin bent over.

Helena couldn't help the surprise from flashing across her face that Hermione knew of Minerva's private bathroom.

"Helena?" Elgin asked, using her namesake for the first time in half a century.

"Her bath." At once the three were beside the tub, "Now help me get her in."

Both women easily moved Minerva's slender form, Hermione jumping in the water as they both pushed Minerva in. Hermione struggled to wrap her arms around Minerva's form, keeping her head above water.

"That's it." Helena jumped in, "Elgin. Have Poppy give you a potion for exposure…"

A crack resonated in the chamber, signaling his departure.

"We need to get her out of her clothes." Helena pulled her arm upwards, "And against body heat." Water pouring down her wand.

Hermione nodded, "I have her." And then both women saw the blue light begin to swell around her, "Helena…?"

"It won't heal her hypothermia; only the damage to her hands."

Hermione glanced down and to Minerva's hands, but the color was lost as the light intensified. "Do I hold on…?"

Helena thought back to all two dozen time she had witnessed the healing process, not once had another been touching Minerva. And as she opened her mouth to say as such, the light burst outwards…

Hermione felt Minerva's body stiffen, and then light was everywhere.

She could feel a deep thrum of magic…

And then she felt Minerva take a deep breath… "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…" Her body arching, the magic pulsing against Hermione as she held onto Minerva who murmured a string of Gaelic before going slack again in her arms; the water returning to normal.

"Hermione?" Helena scrambled forward, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yes. Minerva, though," She adjusted Minerva's weight, "I don't think remained conscious."

Elgin reappeared, "Here." He extended his tiny arm outward, bottle dangling from his fingers.

Helena summoned the bottle, dissolving the cork as she stepped next to Hermione and slipped her hand behind Minerva to help support her. "Minerva." She stated, "Minerva, dear."

Minerva moaned.

"Minerva." Both Helena and Hermione stated, "Wake up."

Slowly her eye fluttered, and she moaned again. "Co…ld."

"I need you to drink this." Helena said, resting the bottle upon her lips. "You're suffering from exposure."

"Need…" She moved her mouth away, "To…" She blinked, "Tell…" Her words slurring as she desperately fought to remain conscious.

"Minerva, you need to drink this." Helena reiterated.

"Azkaban." Minerva muttered, "Need…to…"

"Drink this." Hermione tried again.

"I…" Minerva gave a nod, and felt a foul tasting gelatinous liquid ooze across her mouth and down her throat. "Awful."

Helena chuckled, "Yes, it is. But it'll help stop your body temperature from dropping farther."

Minerva could feel the overbearing need to sleep, exhaustion pouring through her. "Time?"

"Just before seven."

She felt a surge of adrenaline jolt her system, "We need to go…" She pulled away from Hermione, "Now…"

"Woah." Helena and Hermione reached forward, grasping her wet arms. "Minerva…you were just found, can hardly stand."

She turned her head, to gaze at Helena and Hermione. "Azkaban." She raised a trembling hand to her left temple and the spiraling headache as she recalled tendrils of the conversation from last evening. "Johannes is going…"

The rest of her sentence went unsaid as she sank beneath the water, body succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

Hermione quietly pushed the door open to Minerva's room, Helena immediately glancing up a gentle smile lighting her face. "How were classes?" She asked softly as her gaze lifted over the rim of her glasses.

"Long." Hermione replied, "And Minerva?"

"The same." She reached up, peeling the silver frames away from her face. "She hasn't moved since this morning."

"Will there be any long term effects?" Worry lacing Hermione's question as she conjured a chair to sit next to Helena.

Helena sighed, "Not from this."

"But she will have them."

Blue eyes measured brown ones before nodding. "Yes."

Hermione's gaze drifted to the still woman, ebony hair spilled across the maroon sheets and the events of the past several months. "She's getting weaker." Hermione stated, "Her magic." She cast a glance back to Helena, and the heartfelt look was all the confirmation she needed. "What's happening to her?"

"You are correct in that her magic is becoming progressively weaker." Helena stated, "As for the cause, Hermione, you are an incredibly intelligent witch."

"Who will have to put the pieces together." She finished.

"In this instance, yes."

Hermione searched Helena's face, "Will you at least tell me how weak her magic is?"

"In comparison to most witches or wizards, her magic is as strong, but her magical levels are perhaps half what they use to be."

"So on days when she performs an inordinate number of spells?"

"She is far weaker than those she has not."

"Does performing magic weaken her farther?"

"If you are asking whether or not she can and should perform magic; it is equivalent to asking you not to breathe. Weaken or not, she is a witch and will continue to be one until she is no longer able."

_No longer able._ "How long…will…" Brown eyes snapped up to the sleeping form. "She be able to use magic?"

"From her perspective," She gently touched Hermione's arm. "Long enough."

Hermione's gaze whipped to Helena's, voice three octaves higher. "What type of answer…"

"She is my friend, Hermione." Helena leaned back in to her chair, "And while you have become quite close, and she trusts you," Blue eyes pierced into Hermione's soul. "You need to ask her those questions, they are not for me to share."

Flashes of events and tendrils of conversations poured through Hermione's mind; _'thinking of retiring at the end of term', 'yes, we've discussed it for some time', 'I assure you I can…', 'do to personal reasons…', 'it will eventually claim my life'…Claim my life…_reverberated through her head as an image of Minerva pushing herself towards Hogwarts following the Simmon's attack, the way her body burns black after casting spells… "What I don't understand is why she receives severe magical burns from casting spells and then once it is over, a source of magic heals the burns."

"Perhaps, I'll write a paper on it." Helena quipped as she flipped her glasses open and put them back on.

"You know…don't you." Hermione whispered as Helena's gaze dropped back to the open chart in her hands. "Minerva said she didn't know what spell she had been struck with…but...you both do."

"Yes…" Came a strangled reply, causing both Hermione and Helena to scramble forward.

"Easy." Helena stated, "Your body is…"

"Rather stiff." Minerva wheezed, she turned her head to Hermione. "Thank you, I seemed to … arrived a bit short last night." She closed her eyes again, feeling incredibly tired combined with oddly restless.

"What happened?" Helena slipped onto the edge of the bed, running a diagnostic of her semi-conscious friend.

"Went out…" She rasped, "Need…"

"Here." Hermione handed Helena the goblet of water.

"I'm going to help you sit up." Helena stated, slipping her hand beneath the covers and along Minerva's back. "Easy." She whispered, feeling Minerva's body tremble with the effort. "Easy."

The covers slipped from Minerva's shoulders and Hermione felt her breath hitch as her creamy skin became exposed, the long lines of her neck; slender yet muscular arm; the muscles down her back…and then she noticed the pink angry mark along her side. The scar apparently fresh and despite wanting to look away, her eyes remained riveted to the pink flesh; as she tried to recall when Minerva had been injured recently, other than her hands being burnt black. She recalled the morning when she had yelled out, coughing, holding her side after the events at, "Aberforth's." She quietly uttered, drawing both Helena's and Minerva's gaze. "You got hurt that morning."

Helena felt Minerva stiffen, her discomfort apparent. "Yes, she did." Helena replied, "Here." She eased the goblet against Minerva's lips.

Minerva took several sips, before pulling away. "It was a sectasempra curse." She whispered, "And you…" She turned to Helena, "Need a lesson on suitable bed clothing."

Helena chuckled as Minerva eased back down, and she lifted the covers back up. "Or perhaps I'm still trying to teach you humility."

Hermione stepped forward, "I'm sorry." She felt awful for embarrassing Minerva, "I didn't mean…"

Helena shrugged, "Our dear friend is intensely private and does not like drawing attention to herself."

"As if you do." Minerva rebuked to Helena before turning to Hermione. "You are fine, dear."

Hermione eased upon the edge of the bed, "I thought you said it was of little relevance."

"It was." She replied, "In comparison to what happened to Aberforth."

"The wound looks to have been at least four inches long."

"I am riddled with scars, Hermione." Minerva stated, Helena patting Minerva's arm as she turned enabling her to see both women. "And that is all that it shall become."

"What happened last night?" Helena's question drawing Hermione and Minerva's gaze.

"I went to …" She felt the side of her head pulse, and at once she lifted her left hand to press along her left side. "Malfoy Manor."

Concern rippled through Helena, "Minerva." She cast another diagnostic spell. "Is this like before?"

"Yes." She whispered, "I…my head feels as though it is being carved open."

"I need to get you to St. Mungos." Helena said, standing. "You may have bleeding along your left temporal lobe."

"Wait." Minerva reached out, "Last night, something…I need to…tell…" But the pain in her head increased, drowning out the words and her thoughts.

Helena turned to Hermione, "Sit with her. I'll be back, I need to make arrangements at St. Mungos." She paused, "And don't discuss last night, it hurts for her to recall those memories."

Hermione nodded and Helena stepped from the room, and she felt her heart clench as Minerva moaned. "You'll be fine." She whispered, tentatively reaching outwards and placing her hand upon Minerva's bare shoulder.

She had vaguely recalled how smooth her skin was from the event of the Hukbar, but now…she could feel the cold; a cold she had felt for scant minutes before Helena had replaced holding Minerva in the shower. "Are you cold?"

"Yes…" Minerva muttered, "But it is secondary…"

"To your head."

"Yes." Came the quiet reply.

Hermione adjusted herself, lying along her side as she reached over, draping her arm over Minerva's body and pulled her closer. "Here." She stated.

Minerva felt the covers tighten, the warmth along her side as Hermione's body made contact. The jostling and movement, along with the warmth of Hermione's lithe body momentarily distracting the throbbing of her head. "Don't move." She whispered.

"Better?"

Minerva loosened some of the pressure from her hand, "A bit."

Seconds ticked by, Hermione watching as Minerva's face eased, the pain obviously abating. "Your magic is growing weaker." Her quiet statement barely reaching across the eight inches.

"It has been for quite some time." Minerva's reply was upon a long breath.

"How much longer until it is…gone?"

"I hope for several more years." Came the soft response.

"Should I believe you?" Hermione inquired, "As you seem to be putting your affairs in order."

"I hope to spend my last several years enjoying what remains of my family."

"Why remain at Hogwarts for as long as you have? Surely it constantly drains you."

"It is my home, Hermione." She murmured.

"And what happens…" She picked her head up, brown eyes peering into her pale face, "When your magic is gone?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Hermione handed the owl a strip of bacon. "Here." She said taking the letter from its talons. "And do stay warm." She stated as she flicked her wrist, the window opening and at once the owl flew away. Another flick and the window sealed, the draft already apparent from it being momentarily opened.

Her eyes noticed the seal, Helena's emblem. At once, she slit the wax.

_Hermione,_

_ Please share the contents with Filius and Rory. Minerva had a slight hemorrhage along her temporal lobe, there will be no lasting effects; in part due to the hypothermia as it considerably slowed her blood flow._

_ She will not be discharged until Saturday, I would try and keep her longer, however, her beloved Gryffindor's are playing – though she swears impartiality._

_ Regarding what she learned; it deals with an attempted breakout at Azkaban. She has already sent word to Kingsley._

_ Helena_

Hermione re-read the letter and for the first time in over a day felt light at heart. Minerva would be fine. And if Helena's letter was any indication, she was well on her way to recovery; as she was worried about making it back for the Gryffindor quidditch match.

"Milksy." At once, the light skinned house elf appeared.

"Professor Granger."

"Please take this to Filius." She said re-rolling the parchment and handing it to her.

"At once." She replied, her dainty hand wrapping around the sheaf of paper before popping away.

Hermione merely sat where she had been, her mind consumed with her recent conversations with Helena and the one with Minerva this afternoon.

"How could I have been so stupid?" She asked berating herself as she replayed various conversations; several surrounding the fact regarding her medical condition and that her magic was indeed growing weaker.

She had known something was amiss when Minerva had asked for assistance before the beginning of term, and perhaps that is why she had not been able to defeat Johannes? She was no longer able to duel long, engaging battles. She dismissed the thought immediately, recalling that it had not been Minerva to end the battle rather Johannes. But, then again, she did not recall her fingers being burnt black during the duel at the Alley. Perhaps her condition has worsened since this summer?

_Makes sense,_ she thought. _Helena stated progressively worsening, but for how long? Minerva indicated years; but Helena said half as strong as she used to be. _Hermione stood up, beginning to pace as she tried to sort out her own thoughts. Thoughts filled with questions, and very little answers as to the origin, duration, scope and all she had were Helena's words.

_You're an incredibly intelligent witch…_ "Damn bloody good it's doing me." She snapped, feeling as though the answers were scattered just out of reach from her grasp. And she once again sorted through what she knew; that Minerva had been cursed years ago, it would eventually claim her life, in the interim it was draining her magic while saving her life, her magic was getting weaker, she was seeking to retire perhaps for medical reasons and definitely for personal ones, she was married to Albus Dumbledore for close to four decades, the castle had something to do with her curse, and if she used too much magic…her hands were burnt black.

* * *

Rory adjusted his shoulder, hoping to stave off the numbing effects from how he was positioned for even a few minutes longer as his grey eyes scanned the unearthly entrance to the stomach clenching walls. He had received Minerva's letter, and knew that while Kingsley would take measures, he knew…that it would not be ample.

They never were.

He felt a jostle to his left, and he cast his gaze momentarily sideways to see Ronald Weasley grimacing, Harry Potter looking tired but at ease, and George as though having just gone out on holiday. At Ron's movements, George leaned forward and slapped him on the back of his head.

Ron gave him poignant stare, George on the other hand shook his head and leaned back, resting his head against the wall; appearing as though he had moments before, utterly relaxed.

* * *

"Need anything else?" Helena asked as she stepped into Minerva's room, expecting to see her perched up reading only to find the bed empty, and a note where she had been only hours before.

At once, she summoned the parchment, anger at her friend's foolishness burning in her throat.

_Helena,_

_ While I find your care kind and thorough, in this instance, it is overly so. As I stated, I have need to be elsewhere._

_ I'm sure you shall find me back in my chambers before dawn; but I cannot and will not allow Johannes to release those we have recently captured. His numbers must not grow._

_ You know as well as I that the Ministry will not heed my words, and I will not permit Rory to do so alone._

_ Minerva_

Tears stung against her eyes, "Damn you." She whispered, stepping from the room in front of the two wizards standing post. "Can either of you explain how Minerva McGonagall has slipped from this room?"

Both men turned to the other, and had the situation not been so dire, Helena would have laughed at their expressions.

"I'm waiting." She hissed, and at their stuttering, she spun on her heel; her boots clipping along the marble floor, the anger in her step as potent as the one emanating from her aura.

* * *

Minerva leaned heavily upon the gates, the shake within her fingers causing the iron to clatter in the still night. "Elgin." She breathed, head already pounding from the movement.

"Yes, Mistress…" He frowned at seeing her, "You'se is not to return until Saturday."

"Take me to Hermione's rooms."

"You'se is still not well."

"No, Elgin." She said, reaching her hand to him. "I am not. Now, to her rooms."

* * *

Hermione jumped at the loud crack in her living room, wand already out as she came through the doorway, and stopped at seeing a white knuckled Minerva holding on to the back of the sofa. "What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in St. Mungos."

"So I've been told." She tartly replied, "Grab your cloak and wand."

Hermione remained steadfast, "You need to return to St. Mungos."

"I haven't time." Minerva closed her eyes to keep from falling, "If you wish to accompany me, grab your cloak and wand."

"Minerva…"

She snapped her eyes open; her pupils large and obviously dilated, appearing strangely catlike. "No, I am not well, but I refuse to enable Johannes to free his men from Azkaban. Are you coming or am I leaving Hogwarts alone?"

"I will come with you, on one condition." Hermione stated.

Minerva arched her brow, waiting.

"That you do not engage his men;" She held up her hand staying Minerva's commentary, "Unless you have to."

"I will not stand idly by…"

"Then I will body bind you and leave you here."

Elgin stared at the young witch, his respect for her increasing as she stood her ground against his Mistress and he found that he waited with baited breath for her answer.

"I have neither the stamina nor inclination to fight you Hermione, but your spell will be errant, and it shall be you who remains."

Hermione didn't flinch, holding Minerva's gaze and steely resolve. A resolve, she realized that despite Minerva's overbearing fatigue and weakened condition, should not be challenged nor crossed under the circumstances. "You almost died today." She whispered.

"That I did." Minerva replied, "And I shall endeavor to still be standing in the morning. Now…" Her eyes moved to Hermione's bedroom. "Your things."

Hermione wasted no more time, quickly adorning her shoes and as she stepped from her room; she slipped her black cloak upon her shoulders while sliding her wand along her forearm.

"Do you carry a second wand?" Minerva inquired as Hermione stopped to her left.

"No." Hermione answered, "Are you ready?"

Minerva nodded, swallowing the bile from her stomach, the room still spinning. "Evidently." She forced her fingers to peel from the edge of the sofa, and then she felt Hermione's arm.

"Are you sure you want to…"

Minerva grit her teeth, "Want has nothing to do with this. Elgin, I hate to ask this…"

"Mistress wishes me to take both to Azkaban?"

"No." Came Minerva's faint reply, "To the gates."

Elgin blinked his yellow eyes up to Hermione, and she gave him a subtle nod. And they were immediately standing outside the gates, and before Hermione could create an image of Azkaban, she felt the hand upon her arm tighten and a swirl of magic interspersed with tendrils of music blanket her thoughts before her feet were jilted against the ground.

Hermione felt the tug on her arm, and at once she reached out her hand steadying Minerva. "That was seamless." She whispered.

"Thank you." Minerva replied, "We are along the north western side of Azkaban." She nodded towards the eastern parapet along the embankment that overlooked the stone island tower of Azkaban. "Rory will be along that ledge."

"How can you be sure?"

"Intuition."

* * *

George scrambled forward, "What was that?" He asked, pointing westerly. "I saw a flash." Rory followed his movement, "Just there."

"Minerva." He quietly answered, "She has joined us."

"I thought she was in St. Mungos." Ron stated, rubbing his hands along his arms.

"Aye," Rory pulled a small piece of metal from the depths of his cloak. "She was."

"How can you be sure it's her?" Harry asked, curious.

"I just am." He answered, feeling a measure of calm ease his soul, his dearest friend had arrived; and despite knowing that _it shouldn't _matter, it made all the difference in the world. He held the metal disk out…catching and redirecting the light for a moment towards the ridge where he believed Minerva to be.

Almost immediately, a light streamed back to them and in a flash it was gone.

A wry grin spread across George as he his eyes caught what the piece of metal had been; a Wheezies coin. "Nice coin."

"It serves it purpose." Rory said, his own grin splitting his face.

* * *

Hermione watched as Minerva tucked her hands into her cloak, the side of her head resting along the rail, a spray of sea gently spraying across the two women as her eyes partially closed and Minerva's frame gently shook crisp sea breeze and water. "You're cold."

Minerva stilled her voice, trying to keep the tremble from it. "I had a bad experience when I was younger, and…after last night, I may again be a bit hypersensitive."

Hermione flourished her wand as she cast a simple warming spell along the area; and then she proceeded to place a warming spell upon her cloak. "Help?"

Minerva felt her muscles relax as the area around her had a sudden burst of warmth, "Immeasurably."

The seconds passed, the cold momentarily kept at bay, and the road appeared quiet for the interim. "Why do you push so hard?"

"Hmmmm?" Minerva cocked her head to look at Hermione.

"Why do you push so hard?" Brown eyes remained faceted upon the partially obscured face. "You never stop."

Silence stretched between them for countless seconds, before a tired, heavy voice quietly answered. "Because once, a long time ago, I failed." She tipped her head upwards, eyes searching the heavens. "And it was too high a cost." Her voice drifting across the wind, "One I never wish to live through again."

"The war?"

"Keep your eyes fixed upon the entry, Hermione." Minerva whispered as she turned her head away, tears running down her cheeks.

"Minerva…"

"Stay focused." Came her heartfelt reply.

Hermione cast one more glance to Minerva before dragging her gaze to the long isle roadway leading up to Azkaban. The night pressed on, Minerva moving less and less and Hermione could tell she was having an exceptionally difficult time remaining awake. Her eyes were remaining closed a hairs breath longer, her breathing had slowed. And never had she imagined a time where Minerva McGonagall would seem so incredibly vulnerable. Yet, there, upon a second floor balcony overlooking the entrance to Azkaban, that is what Minerva was…and so very human.

The last vestiges of the legend, the impregnable woman were cast aside, and Hermione knelt down gently placing her hand upon Minerva's knee. "I will wake you."

"Hermione…" Her voice thick and gravelly from lack of use.

"Get some rest." Hermione softly stated, "Even if it's only for a few minutes."

Doubt lined emerald eyes, "I just need to move…" She went to push herself upright, but Hermione's hand moved from her knee to her shoulder staying her movement.

"You need to sleep." Hermione gave Minerva a reassuring smile. "I promise, I _will_ wake you."

Minerva felt torn. She was physically exhausted, magically drained, cold, and her head still felt as though Johannes had carved a whole through her head; and yet to place herself at another's mercy…and trust…there had only been five persons whom she ever held in that high of regard.

And as the seconds ticked by, and her head pulsed…it became glaringly apparent that it no longer mattered how torn she felt; she would be adding a sixth name to that list…even if only for one night.

Hermione felt an overwhelming sense of relief as slowly Minerva nodded, her eyes drifting fully close; and with practiced ease Hermione silently conjured another warming spell upon Minerva.

"…stay…focused…" She murmured voice belaying her fatigue.

"I am." Hermione replied to the stillness, noticing that Minerva's breathing was already leveling off. _She'll be asleep within minutes_, Hermione thought casting one more look to Minerva before pulling her own tired gaze back to the task at hand.

* * *

"So what did you want to talk with me about?" George inquired to the only other cognizant occupant.

"I thought you were sleeping." Rory mused.

"I'll have plenty of time to do that in the morning while Percy runs the shop tomorrow."

A quirk of a smile ghosted Rory's features, "I'm sure he'll be appreciative."

"Not in so many words." George cast another drying charm upon his cloak and gazed at the Highlander, "Aren't you cold?" He questioned, as the icy wind joined the sea spray, wetting them again, Rory's dark hair looking as though he had just showered, beads of water sliding down his face and dripping off his jaw or running down his neck and disappearing into the wet cloak that stopped at his waist; his knees exposed beneath his kilt, socks fastened at the top of his calves, and leather strapped sandals wrapped in an elegant weave up his leg looking as though he stepped out of 17th century.

"Nah." He rumbled, briefly pulling his gaze from Azkaban to see a dubious look pass across George's features. "Each article of clothing has a self-warming charm upon them, and while a bit wet, they remain quite comfortable."

"The charm remains impervious to weather?"

"Aye, it is one of the first charms I ever learned." Rory replied as he turned his gaze back upon dreary prison and away from the young lines of the wizard.

George thought back to his schooling and the spells he learned at home, "I know a handful of warming spells, however, none of them would remain viable against both the wind and sea spray."

"And you've never lived in the high country."

George straightened his back and stood, "No, but I would be interested in learning that particular version of warming spell."

"You have to cast it upon each article of clothing," Rory paused as the wind shifted, and as the spray struck along the right side of his body he began again. "The spell is Teim."

"Teim? What language is the spell derived from?"

"Gaelic." Rory replied, "There are quite a few useful spells that do not readily translate."

"You speak Gaelic?" George asked, openly curious.

"And Latin." Rory cast his eyes to the side, "Do ya not speak any other language?"

George shook his head, "No. Just English. Seamus mentioned that you did not attend Hogwarts. Who did you learn Latin and Gaelic from, and your spell casting?"

"My Uncle and Sister, as for the Gaelic, while my family spoke it brokenly, Minerva and her family spoke it exclusively while at the Manor and I have to say, mine improved dramatically upon becoming a friend to the McGonagall's."

"You and McG have been friends for a long time?"

"We met, rather serendipitously the summer of 1935, and from that point forward, our friendship grew. And," He paused unsure if he should continue, knowing that it could alter how the younger man looked at him, but he _wanted _to tell George. "I was in a long and deeply personal relationship with her brother after the war with Grindlewald."

"She had a brother? What happened?"

"Two brothers. Callum and Derrick. Callum was killed the spring of 1939." Even after the long passage of years, he could still remember arriving at gates to McGonagall Manor, Minerva's ashen face as she remained fixed to the ground starring in horror at the bloody remains of Callum's body that had been strewn across the vibrant lush green grounds, now painted red. How her body trembled against his chest and voice broke as she spoke; and how despite the large tears falling from her eyes how she was determined to have the grounds returned to their usual state and her brother's body secured in the McGonagall tombs before Derrick arrived home from Hogwarts. "Derrick was killed the fall of 1979 by death eaters."

"I'm sorry." George stated.

"It was a long time ago, and a lot has transpired since then." Rory's grey eyes turned to the red haired man, "As for Minerva, you could say that she has become my sister and I her brother."

"She's an interesting woman."

"To put it mildly." Rory murmured, eyes smiling at the thought of his enigmatic 'sister' and knew that while he would love to share more of his life and those important to him, but he steered the conversation back to what he _needed and wanted _to talk to George about; turning the Order into a more 'proactive' group. "I need your assistance."

* * *

Hermione tiredly pulled her eyes from the soft light, partially obscured by the sea spray back to Minerva's eerily still frame. She stared at the woman for a solid fifteen seconds before she was able to discern that Minerva was in fact, still alive, as her chest rose again.

If she wasn't so sure what Minerva would do to her upon becoming rested, Hermione would have forgone the evening and taken Minerva back to Hogwarts. But, despite Helena's words that Minerva's magic had waned, and was perhaps only half what it once was, she had seen Minerva and other than her hands becoming magically burned, it hadn't seemed as though her magic was any less potent. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Hermione flexed her fingers, feeling the numbness pull, she waved another warming charm over her cloak to stave off the oppressing chill upon the wind, and then leaned forward. Her damp, cold hair brushing across her cheek as her own fingers touched Minerva's jaw. And sighed, deeply; feeling worse by the second at the frozen skin that made Hermione's fingers seem warm.

Shaking her head, she cast another warming charm upon Minerva, as she muttered a quiet, "Why?" under her breath. Minerva's body flexed, shifting as the warmth momentarily blanketed her, the lines readily apparent in her face, easing.

"Rory and members of the Order could handle this." She whispered. "All you're doing is pushing, needlessly."

Hermione drew open her cloak, and sliced a square off her robes and with a flourish of her wand and a quiet spell, the midnight blue square grew and grew until it had become the size of a medium blanket. Tucking her wand away, she draped the large piece of fabric across Minerva's still form. Carefully, she wrapped it around her legs, and then behind her shoulders; Minerva barely moving…until she went to stand back up and Minerva's raw voice cutting across the stillness. "Stop…fretting." She murmured.

"Then let me take you back to Hogwarts." Came Hermione's heartfelt reply.

"…no…"

Hermione tenderly squeezed Minerva's shoulder, "Then rest."

"For…just a few more minutes." Minerva breathed out, shifting into the added warmth as the scent of salt and almond blanketed her senses.

"Take as long as you need." Hermione whispered, her heart pulling with a surge of emotion.

* * *

George felt his breath hitch at what Rory had proposed. "How do you expect me to help you…"

In a lightening flash of movement, Rory had placed his hand over George's mouth. "Shhh…." He cocked his head to the right grey eyes peering intently down upon expanse, body poised to move as his hand gently fell away from George's face and drifted to his wand. "The air's changed." He jerked his head towards Harry and Ron. "Wake them."

George turned and gave Harry a shake upon the shoulder before slapping Ron on the head again while Rory pulled a coin and flashed it towards where he knew Minerva to be.

* * *

Hermione jumped at the flash of light, brown eyes searching along the roadway, Azkaban…only to see nothing. _What does Rory see?_ She thought, eyes re-scanning the area.

Nothing.

She cast a glance to Minerva, wondering if she should wake her up, but as she jerked her eyes back to the area and didn't see anything…she thought better of it.

* * *

Harry and Ron jerked awake, Ron rubbing the side of his head about to slap his brother back, but George arched his brow. Harry was standing, green eyes focusing upon his surroundings, hand upon his wand as his mind jolted awake. Harry joining Rory along the railing as the two brothers stared at the other for a long moment.

"I don't see anything…" Harry stated.

"You aren't meant to." Rory whispered. "But, they're here."

Harry shook his head, "They?"

"Grab on." Rory said spinning away from the rail, "Now."

The other three wizards reached out, hands grazing across his arm, cloak…and at once he pulled his magic to him; sensing the other three wizards magic. One as serene as Fawkes' music; _Harry's_, he thought. Another as vibrant as the Weasley's hair; _Ron's_. The last stream of magic was deep, thrumming, and gently strong…

_George._ He thought and for the first time in a string of decades, a strange peace rippled across his consciousness as his magic touched George's…and then the four of them were standing at the edge of the roadway as a wave of sea spray rushed over the walkway.

* * *

Then, Hermione saw a flicker, and her instincts were screaming at her that something wasn't right. "Minerva." She turned around, hating that she had to awake the woman. "Min…" She placed her hand upon Minerva's shoulder and she jerked immediately awake.

Emerald irises focused, pupils dilated as she sat rigidly upright. "Are they…?"

Hermione nodded, "I think so."

At once Minerva went to stand, but the blanket stayed her movement. She frowned, as her eyes scanned the dark blue blanket and she easily deduced where it came from. Hermione's robes.

Flipping it off in one motion, Minerva sat upright as her eyes dashed to the blanket and then to Hermione. "Thank you." She whispered while taking Hermione's hand and standing; her right hand already pulling her wand out, eyes snapping down to the road…body stopping as her animagus sight noticed the flicker of movement along the far end. "Is your wand out?"

Hermione went to turn, "No." She stated as her hand reached for it, her breath hitching as brown eyes landed upon Minerva's face…the pupils of Minerva's eyes returning were returning to normal, but they had looked…catlike.

"Ready?" Minerva questioned.

Still speechless, Hermione could only nod as her fingers pulled her wand from the inside of her cloak. She felt the familiar tingle of Minerva's magic spread like wildfire across her skin, as she continued to process what she had just witnessed. She had always believed that animagus traits transitioned to their human counterparts. Albeit, few books spoke about humans retaining characteristics of their animagi, and the books published had no factual testimonials. No animagus had ever published nor had been quoted about characteristics and crossovers. The question now became, how much transferred? She idly wondered if Helena knew of any medical texts, obscure papers or journals had published any research or reports?

Then a wave of cold sea swept over the rock-lined road, blanketing the two witches with frigid waters and her thoughts went blank as her body went into shock. Minerva was already bolting forward, into the wall of water, body immersed, a shudder passed through Hermione as she followed; blankets of water pouring down her body. She emerged dripping from head to toe, instantly frozen as they rushed ahead.

"Where are we…?" Hermione running flat out to keep up with Minerva.

"They are there." Minerva stated, and as if to prove a point, she snapped her wand into the air at a forty-five degree angle, bathing the night sky in light. Her sodden clothing practically adhered to her skin, as the eerie light flashed, rippling slowly downwards; the blackness giving way as faint outlines of people became apparent. Eyes swept across the quick moving gathering, she was able to count at least ten persons.

And then she heard several lumbering footsteps from behind; one quick glance backwards confirmed her suspicions - Harry, Ron, George and Rory were trailing thirty meters behind them. Her attention was immediately pulled back as a swell of magic pulsed along the right side of her body, as a large protego charm burst forth. Distinct pings could be heard striking the charms as it rippled forward, and Minerva's voice rang outward. "Once they cross to the other side, they can apparate away."

Before all hell broke loose.

* * *

Ron watched in a mixture of horror and wonder as Minerva and Hermione engaged the throng of wizards as they both brandished their wands at speed that defied reason, not enabling them to make any forward progress. His eyes sliding towards Hermione, her wet robes and cloak remaining suctioned along her body, trying to restrain her movements, as her long normally chestnut hair appeared black in the night as the wet strands whipped from one side to the next as she twirled from side to side…

And Ron arced his wand, shooting a binding spell ahead toward one of the men behind Hermione as a glow of green pulsed from the right as Rory joined Minerva.

* * *

If Harry had to describe the situation he now found himself in, a wizard's fray would only scratch the surface. In the last minute he had cast seemingly over two dozen spells, and it felt that he had been dropped in a hoard of witches and wizards. He felt a hand along his shoulder pulling him backwards…

His stomach lurching in his chest as the world swirled and for a heartbeat, thought he'd never again see Ginny's beautiful face…

Only to see a splash of red hair, George's face poised in concentration as he countered the spell that had almost struck his shoulder. "Wotcher mate…" He breathed a crack resonating across the air as Harry spun back around, already reengaging…as the Ministry aurors from Azkaban joined the calamity.

* * *

Rory felt as though time stopped as his eyes landed upon the hollow man drifting across the ground. He was the same height, had the same blond hair…but instead of its once beautiful long smooth appearance, it was stringy, oily; his broad chest striking the air but it was evident that the years had not been kind, scars littering what remained of his once well defined muscles…angular jaw determinedly set, all those could have been mistaken. They could have been another man. But then their eyes locked. His were marred by dark black circles, almost appearing sunken, but…they were unmistakably his. "Aegis." He breathed out, feeling as though he was looking at a ghost that had irrevocably altered his life as he felt his breath rush from his lungs, a deep hatred long since buried springing to life; coursing through his veins, ringing in his ears.

Pain erupting across his side, burning his chest as he struggled to gasp for a breath, tears forming against the back of his eyes, blurring the image as he realized that he had lost track of the battle; the wizard he had been fighting against…as he stared unabashedly at the wizard who had killed his best friend. His lover…

He tried to reconnoiter, but his body was too far off balance as he stumbled backwards; an unmistakable green light darting towards him as his vision warbled, blood swirling in his mouth…

* * *

"No!" Minerva yelled, horror beating through her veins as Rory stumbled backwards, off balance, with no way to maintain his balance; and Minerva morphed in a heartbeat. Her body flying across the wind, the stone, the sea as she covered the scant distance from him…eyes focused upon the goal, ignoring the fact that she had just broken the line. Created a way for at least some of the escapees to flee. But, she refused to lose another.

She felt her legs pulling as she stretched outward, her form jumping…magic swelling…

* * *

Much later, over a bottle of firewhisky, Hermione and George would debate the finer points of what they had witnessed, but both would agree on one point. There should have been no way for anyone to reach Rory. Yes, Minerva had been the closest, but she still remained over twenty-five meters away when her strangled cry had drawn their attention. Only to see the woman transfigure and the body of her animagus form darted across the air; as if apparating…like a stone skipping across a flat lake. Her body only visible as her legs lunged together…

And then her body morphed alongside Rory's, a protego charm bursting to life only inches from her fingers…

The force of the spell against the charm hurling her into Rory's body…a tangle of limbs…

George and Hermione both throwing spells towards the wizard who had almost killed Rory and now could easily harm either witch or wizard as both remained momentarily unmoving.

* * *

She heard his soft gasp as their bodies connected and then the impact of the ground and the spell; she heard a crack and knew that at least one if not more of his ribs had been broken. Her own body betraying her as she went to reposition and jump back into the battle, her limbs lethargically responding; the cold, her overbearing fatigue, the throbbing along the side of her head, her sodden iceberg clothing hanging from her…

It felt as though she was in slow motion while the rest of the world whizzed around her, sound vanishing as an eerie quiet resonated across her consciousness as her eyes turned…seeing the wizard who had cast the Avada Kedarva curse at Rory twirling his wand, the spell forming on his lips…

And her mind numbly tried to force her body to do something, focus affixed to the man. But…exhaustion poured from her soul.

Then a flash of red and yellow burst upon him; his body going rigid as it convulsed and teetered sideways…Minerva blinking, and her world crashed into reality as a cacophony of sound shattered against her senses, the spray of sea pelting her already frozen skin as yells and bursts of light flashed around her.

And with the every ounce of willpower, Minerva stood…in time to see haunting blue eyes she had never expected to see again.

"Aegis…" She felt herself unconsciously whisper his name as she stared at the shell of the once handsome man.

"Minerva…"

The world melting away as both witch and wizard's gaze burned into the other; hate pouring from emerald eyes and surprise from icy blue ones as they brandished their wands…sparks flying from the tips as a stream of pure energy poured from both locking in a fiery blue-white blaze.

* * *

Ron shielded his eyes as the light flourished outward, the crackling magic drowning out the noise across the entire entrance of Azkaban as witches and wizards turned away from the singular witch and wizard locked in a deadly fray as a stream of fire erupted from the bare chested man's right hand; wand still poised in his left one.

The fire leaping forward…

Ron standing there utterly transfixed, forgetting about the witch who was sprinting away…

* * *

Tears were running down her cheeks from the brilliance of the light coming from Minerva and the wizard she was in a deadlock battle with, her heart hammering in her chest as a fiery hand stretched towards the very woman who less than ten minutes prior had been fast asleep…her left arm reaching behind her. The sea leaping over stonewall, steam billowing heavenward as the fire and water met.

Hermione _wanted _to watch the spectacular display of magic; but forced her attention back to the wizard trying to escape.

* * *

George ducked, his dragon hide cloak flourishing upwards as his red hair bristled across his forehead; eyes burning against the oppressive light, steam laddening the air…making it hard to breath…

Green eyes momentarily awed by his previous head of house as the water spewing into the fire morphed into a large snake…lunging forward, swallowing the fire before dousing the wizard causing the pulse of magic jutting between them to cease…

His gaze involuntarily falling to the still figure lying only a sparse few feet from McG…and he shoved aside the burst of emotion gurgling at the base of his neck as he whirled his wand back around…

* * *

Harry watched as his cloak fluttered across the breeze, flames disintegrating the last of the material as his glasses slid down his nose while he snapped his wrist; the wizard fluttering backwards…his robes rippling across the wind as his body struck the ground.

He scanned the field, duels were beginning to wane…except for the one to his right between McGonagall and the faceless man…

To his left…a white arc struck the dirt…molding, freezing, entombing a witch and the victor of the battle cast her eyes about…brown and green meeting across the field…

Both turned, realization dawning across them…as several prisoners had slipped past the Order, their numbers too few to stop the exodus. A half dozen or more were already drawing up to the other side of the roadway, while several more were breaking through the line about to escape.

"Minerva!" Hermione yelled while both she and Harry tried to slow the impeding escapees…

* * *

Adrenaline mixed with exhaustion, fingers struggling to retain its hold upon her wand; a sharp, crisp voice cutting across the air and the haze of white-hot anger. She cast a hairs breath gaze to her left…as her hands recoiled from Aegis' spell recoiling against her shield charm.

She could see Hermione and Harry's silhouette trying to stop the fleeing prisoners that had breached their line…

Wisps of people were apparating from the end of the roadway…

And Minerva felt utterly torn as her gaze locked with Aegis'; a knowing smirk upon his once chiseled, now haggard features.

She had to make a choice.

One that involved helping the Order and stopping several of the fleeing prisoners or stopping one; him. She whipped her wand, fury unleashing upon him as the memory of Rory dropping to his knees, sobs racking his frame as he bent over and picked up Derrick's broken, bleeding body flashed across her mind's eye…as Derrick struggled to lift his head. Blood spewing from his lips, _"I love you…"_

"Damn you!" She yelled...and her chest ripped apart as she moved the whole of her magic…Hogwarts…Albus…and the felt the sea jump at her bequest…

Pouring down the wall…

Separating her from him...enabling his escape as she bent the sea to her will…arching it around the yard of Azkaban…

Creating an impenetrable wall…molding her anger into something constructive, helpful…

Hands glowing against the darkness…while her legs became unsteady, giving way. Her knees sinking into the gravel as the sea's spray washed the tears from her face…

Then a burst of magic joined hers…freezing the wall of sea…

The long, ebony wand slipping from blackened fingers…her heart bleeding from an old wound carved open, a muffled sob slipping past blue lips as Minerva sat before a ten foot thick wall of ice...separated from the man who was responsible for Derrick's death.

* * *

Hermione lowered her wand, feeling utterly exhausted from transfiguring the sea into ice…the rest of the battle dying down as those wishing to escape realized that it had become futile after three spells merely absorbed into the wall, not even blemishing the surface and they subsequently dropped their wands. Hermione felt dozens of eyes turn to her…and then to the woman along the far sea wall who was kneeling before it; unmoving.

She didn't know who the man Minerva had battled was…but from the ferocity of their fight, she knew that without a doubt; their battle had been entirely, personal. People began congratulating each other…and she found herself nodding, forcing a smile upon her face.

"Wow," Ron breathed, halting her movement as he embraced her. "That was marvelous…" Her eyes remaining fixed upon the shadowed woman…who seemed to slowly realize where she was…

Hermione could picture green eyes suddenly finding focus, peering into her own as she turned…locks of wet hair shielding her face as undoubtedly burnt fingers fumbled for her wand…

Then her own world shifted as Harry picked her up, hugging her deeply. "You had me worried there for a minute." He breathed, and involuntarily she hugged her dear friend back.

"You too." She murmured into his ear before pulling apart. She couldn't stop the frown at seeing the cut along his right eye and the large scorch mark along Ron's thigh. "However, from the looks of you both, I should have been more worried and both of you more careful."

"Nah…" Ron shrugged, water dripping down his face. "Hardly a scratch." He turned to Harry, "How many…"

His words drifted away as Hermione lifted her gaze back up, heart lurching at what she saw, and she began running forward as Minerva scrambled to Rory's side…only to see George slid to a stop beside them, obscuring her view.

* * *

"Is he…" George knelt down searching for any signs of life.

"Will be remaining in St. Mungos for some time." Minerva rasped, relieved. "But, he'll live." She cast a glance to the wall, glasses perched far lower on her nose than normal…but she seemed not to notice or to care. "We just need to get him through and soon."

George lifted his gaze, "Any suggestions on how, McG?"

Minerva slipped her right hand obscurely into cloak pocket, pulling two gloves out as she replied. "Ask the mastermind behind it." Pride emanating from her thick brogue as she nodded to Hermione who was just drawing to a stop.

"Are you alright?" She breathed out, eyes flickering to George and then landing upon Minerva.

George gave a nod, "Nothing a really warm shower won't cure." His gaze joined Hermione's upon Minerva.

"And a long nap." She quipped forcing her legs to push her upright and as she felt her body tipping, her wand morphed and gloved hand pressed heavily against her walking stick to maintain her balance. "Hermione." Minerva gave a nod to the wall, "If you could be so kind as to create a doorway for George to take Rory to St. Mungos and for someone to alert the Minister of this evening's events."

* * *

"Come on, Hermione." Ron stated, motioning for her to join he, Harry and several of the stationed guards of Azkaban. "Even if it's just an hour."

She shook her head again, "No. I'm going to finish up, and…" Her eyes glanced up to the first rays of sun, "Then I am going to go get an hour or two of sleep as I have to teach shortly."

Both wizards turned to the other, recalling their days at Hogwarts and knowing how difficult a day could be for a professor, especially one who hadn't slept the night before. "You sure?"

"Go ahead." She said, "Thanks for the offer though." And with one final embrace, the boys turned and were already heading away; leaving her alone. She waited a moment and then ascended the stairs to where Minerva and Kingsley had disappeared to.

She didn't even need to reach the top to hear their two distinct voices, and the worry she had felt earlier when Minerva stated she would be remaining at Azkaban until the Minister's arrival was nothing compared to what she felt now as Kingsley's tirade reverberated off the walls. _She can't handle this, _Hermione thought as the sight of Minerva sitting propped up against the railing, damp black ringlets of hair plastered against far too white skin, dead asleep; _she shouldn't have too._

"….could have been killed! For a handful of prisoners the Aurors will be able to recapture within the week."

"He didn't randomly set prisoners free…"

"Johannes wasn't even here!" Kingsley thundered as Hermione rounded the corner to stand beside the Minister's personal attaché who went to 'guide' her back out of the room; but at seeing who it was, stopped.

"Douglass…"

"Not all of his men were set free." Kingsley interrupted. "Only three escaped in conjunction with five other prisoners. They hardly constitute a threat."

Hermione felt the temperature spike in the room as Minerva's jaw clenched, her nostrils flaring. "Aegis would be the very definition of a threat."

Kingsley leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of the large cherry desk. "He has been locked away in Azkaban for decades."

"Of that, I am well aware." Minerva snapped.

"We'll have him captured, alongside everyone else within the week. He has no where to turn, the Black family has been all but killed."

"He'll return your men to you in body bags." Minerva rebuked without an ounce of emotion.

"Just because he sent home your brother in one, and his Highland lover, your lap dog almost in one doesn't make Aegis a concern."

Hermione's hand stopped mid-motion to her wand, frozen and utterly unable to move. She could only stare at the unfolding scene, her own anger pounding in her ears but the look of undulated fury upon Minerva's face scared even her.

"Lap dog." Minerva's voice was low, scathing. "Personal feelings…come come Minister." His eyes widened, but the rest of the Minister's body remained startling still as she leaned closer. "Where is your detachment?" Her voice ringing clearly in the small room, "Or in this instance, does it strike too close? As Rory refused _your _advances following Derrick's death…" Hermione felt the muscles of her jaw slacken, "Refused _your _touch…" She motioned with her hand; his body flying backwards until his back crashed into the wooden shelves. "You have but one chance, Minister. For I have grown weary of the obstacles you present. Obstacles that cause those I care for to be placed in danger and far too many have not survived once placed there." Hermione could hear the fatigue beginning to lace her words, as feeling and movement sprung back into her body. "For instance, today…" She reached across cloak, the fabric falling open, and with a subtle wave of her hand, a sprig of heather appeared upon her shoulder; which black gloved hands gently removed and held it upwards. "Marks thirty years since I have been without a brother." She twirled the heather within her fingers, "Who loved life, music…" Green eyes narrowed, "Even you, once." She let the sprig fall from her fingers, crystalline emerald eyes the color of spun glass. "The next time we have words, they had better be genuine and not with your own pent up resentment, Kingsley; or I will see that there is a new Minister in the office before the year is out, even if it takes every knut from my Gringott's account." She turned on her heel, clearly not intending to listen to him farther.

No longer suspended, Kingsley's body collapsed to the floor. Papers spewing outwards across the marble floor. "Minerva…"

Her clipped boots stopped, head turning to the side, the light glinting off her gold frames and predatory eyes. "Heed my words Kingsley." Her brow arching, "And if _any_ of my family or friends are killed by Aegis or anyone else who escaped here today, consider it your resignation."

Minerva didn't wait for a response as a sputtering Minister stared after the formidable woman, Hermione unobtrusively slipping from the room behind Minerva whose strides seemed unencumbered by her walking stick, Hermione struggling to keep up…until they rounded the last corner of the building and Minerva just stopped. Her body leaning heavily upon the wall, eyes closed…

"Minerva…"

"Just a minute." Came the whispered reply.

Hermione went to place her arm around Minerva's waist, but she straightened fully upright; shaking her head.

"Not here." She ground out, wincing as she began moving again. "Remember, Hermione." Minerva felt as though she was floating across the floor, distorted shapes moving across the shadows, "Perception."

Hermione picked up her pace, opening the door to the main entrance and exit of the prison; dozens of guards pulling themselves into a proud salute as they entered. Minerva merely walked forward as she had done countless times, and Hermione realized that she had been similar to the throng of witches and wizards in this very room only a few scant months ago; believing that the witch she was walking beside had been timeless, a fixture, steadfast, loyal, fair, always there to help right the wrongs…and never once had she ever foreseen a moment when Minerva McGonagall wouldn't walk away from a battle, alive. But the cost to maintain that image…had created a wall of isolation…and if she didn't change soon, it would kill her; Hermione thought as Minerva paused at the edge of the room.

"Each of you did an admirable job today; thank you for all your help."

A resounding cheer erupted throughout the room as Minerva and Hermione walked out.

It was another fifteen minutes before the two women reached the last gate; Minerva's limp had become readily apparent, and when she thought no one was looking, her right hand shook from the added weight being applied against the walking stick. Hermione quietly walking beside her, wishing the forsaken journey would end and that Minerva would _let _her help.

"Thank you Byron." Minerva feigned a smile to the young man. He had graduated six years prior, intelligent lad, a bit free spirited; and she hoped he would pursue his passion, he played the piano beautifully.

"Headmistress…Ms. Granger." He stated respectfully; hand drawing across the counter, discreetly picking up the button. "I don't think I want to know how you knew to come here," His eyes smiled, "But I'm sure glad you did."

"Just luck, I guess." Hermione smoothly replied.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle, "Right." He stretched out his hand, "Here." He waited for a second while Hermione opened her hand, a button falling into her palm. "It's a portkey." He hurried on, afraid from Hermione's startled look that perhaps he shouldn't have. "You both look exhausted, and as it's about dawn, I'm guessing that the children will be awake and ready for class shortly."

"Thank you." She stated sincerely.

"It's the least I can do." He stated, a lightness shining through his eyes. "I believe," A toothy grin split his rugged features. "Hogwarts will do."

Hermione reached out to Minerva without delay, fingers gently wrapping around her forearm giving Byron one last nod; "Hogwarts…"

At once she felt a hook pull along her navel, and then she was landing amongst the snow. "Minerva."

"Forgive me," Came quiet words, "If I don't get up."

Hermione laughed, truly laughed at Minerva's quirky sense of humor. "I'll send Hagrid out shortly." Hermione stood, brushing off chunks of snow; expecting to hear a rebuttal, none came. "Minerva." She turned around, to see snow littering Minerva's body, hair strewn about her face, eyes struggling to open. "Let's get you to your rooms." She stated, leaning over; sliding her right hand behind Minerva's back as she slipped her left one under her legs.

"N…o…" Minerva whispered as a spell rushed over her and she felt Hermione's arms flex and strain; her body lifting. "Get Elgin."

"I've got you." Hermione stated as she adjusted Minerva's weight against her body, Minerva's head coming to rest upon her shoulder; and almost immediately she could feel the steady tremble of Minerva's frame against her.

Several minutes later, she was opening the door to Minerva's private chambers, Elgin blinking up at her; her own concern having intensified since arriving at the gates. Minerva hadn't moved or spoken, only the slow and steady expansion of her ribs against her own chest had assured her that Minerva was indeed still alive.

And as she went to set Minerva upon her bed, she paused; her heart lurching in her chest at what Minerva had gone through the past day. "I'm setting you down."

Hermione felt a shift against her arm; Minerva murmuring as her eyelids fluttered, the trembling growing…and she laid Minerva's body down. "Elgin," She turned to the quiet house elf. "Can you watch her until I return?"

His large yellow eyes turned to Minerva, ears bowing down as he felt the swell of Hogwart's magic already congealing in the room…it was more potent than normal; taking his breath away. Minerva's body convulsed, her skin glowing…

"What…" Hermione had known that arriving at Hogwarts, Minerva's hands would return to normal; had even witnessed the effects of it before, felt the effects of it as it rippled across her own skin; but this was different. She felt her own magic jump…responding; pulling away…joining….and then Minerva moaned as her hands, arms glowed…

Green eyes fluttered open…a deep gasp…and Minerva lost the last shreds of her consciousness as the full power of Hogwarts magic joined her own through her bond…the walls of her chambers melting away along with the horrid pain in her hands, her legs, arms…

* * *

_"Just another minute." She whispered, enjoying the sun's warm rays upon her skin, not having her hands movement restricted by burnt flesh._

_ "Love, you have to return." His whimsical fluttering softly across her consciousness. "Your body's still there."_

_ "How are you…here? Or I'm…"_

_ "Our bond." Came his ethereal reply._

_ She felt a sinking feeling rip through her chest, magic burn across her…and she heard his voice cry out joining hers…_

A tear fell from Elgin's chin to the floor, creating a second puddle next to the first; the one beside Hermione's boot. Minerva's body collapsing in a heap, their ears still ringing from her soul wrenching screams. "She'se needs to sleep." Elgin's voice finally breaking the stillness, leathered hand wrapping around Hermione's forearm, beginning to lead her away.

"She is…" Hermione felt tired, breathless…shocked. And her eyes remained riveted to Minerva's unmoving form…along her arms, legs…and Hermione had a sickening thought that the effervescent glow that had momentarily taken up residence across most Minerva's body was due to the healing of massive magical burns. Burns that had spread far beyond that of her hands… "Alright?"

"I'se takes care of her." Elgin's voice oddly tender.

"Elgin…" Hermione ripped her gaze from Minerva to the small elf, "I have never seen or felt anything…"

He let go of her forearm, patting it gently. "She'se was hurt very bad." He forced a smile, "She'se be fine. Go now." He nodded to the door, "I'se gets Blondie's after she'se settled."

Hermione didn't know what to do…and did the only thing she could, she turned around giving Minerva and Elgin one last look before striding from the room.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed & would love some thoughts/feedback…


	40. Chapter 38 November 14th, 2009

**Chapter 38 ~ November 14****th****, 2009 (Saturday)**

"…see reason."

Minerva glanced up at her dearest friend, the sun glinting through her high bedroom windows, partially blinding her and obscuring Helena's face. "And when will you? I am dying and have been."

"But you are expediting its pace." Helena growled, "Your magic dropped again and is only at thirty-…"

"Don't." Minerva interrupted holding up her hand, a subtle shake of her head matching the one in her voice. "I already know and don't need to be told."

"But Minerva…"

Minerva frowned, exasperated as she tossed her correspondence upon the bed. "What would you have me do?" She asked peeling off her glasses to met Helena's frosty gaze. "Stop?"

"Yes!" Helena yelled, hands pressing along the plum comforter. "Stop. Quit. Give up!" Tears pooling in her eyes. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Do?" Minerva asked, not understanding. "What?"

"Watch you kill yourself!" Helena's voice breaking, "You're dying and…" She raised her hands upwards. "I can't do a damn thing about it! Your best friend…"

Minerva flipped back her covers and was out of her bed, immediately noticing the ache in her muscles, the pain in her hip; her body still recovering from exposure as her arms wrapped around Helena. "I'm fine."

"No." Helena choked, pulling back as tears fell from her eyes. "You're not." Blue eyes searched green ones, "And you…" Her voice caught, "You damn well know it." She tried to swallow back the bile, "So stop acting…"

Minerva reached out, wiping a tear trail away. "I'm not acting, Helena." Her own voice catching. "I'm living out what little time I have left."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Poppy stared at Helena, digesting what information had just been imparted. "…that's…" She swallowed the ball of emotion already at the back of her throat, she needed to focus on the facts. Needed to be a healer first. A friend second. She cleared her throat, "Does she understand how quickly her reserves have dissipated since July?"

Helena gave her peer a grave nod, "She does."

"And she still doesn't wish her family…"

"No." Helena sighed, sitting heavily in the chair opposite of Poppy. "She does not."

"What of Filius?"

"Nor is he to know of how weak she has become."

"Thirty-three percent." Poppy felt her heart as though it would burst. "At what point does she believe it will affect her ability to do her job as Headmistress?"

"She wouldn't answer me." Helena stated trying to push her own heartache aside from her conversation not even an hour ago, "And truthfully, I didn't have the desire to push." She could still see the paler of Minerva's skin against the morning's brilliant light.

Poppy gave her a knowing look. "Nor have I." Poppy reached up, pulling her matron hat from her brown hair. Fingers running through her fine hair, "She barely moved the whole of yesterday."

Helena nodded, "And if her beloved Gryffindors weren't playing today, I doubt she'd be moving too much today either."

Poppy's face perked up, "Then she is not going to the Order meeting?"

"She consented to only going to the Order meeting and the game today." Poppy was about to interject, but stopped at seeing the bottom of her mouth turn into a frown. "It was either that, or she said she would resume her full duties as Headmistress."

"Dear Merlin." Poppy muttered, "I used to believe Albus was the worse of the two…" Warm brown eyes met tired blue ones. "She should not be out in the weather this afternoon, even if it is her Gryffindors."

"Take heart." Helena reached across, gently squeezing Poppy's forearm. "She said she would only stay for as long as she remained warm."

"As wonderful as that is to hear, I would much prefer she remained in her rooms for the whole of the day."

"As would I. She is exhausted and needs several days of rest."

"Which brings me back to Filius." Poppy quirked her brow. "He needs…"

Helena subtly shook her head, "It can wait."

"But what if the wards need to be realigned or…"

"Despite wanting to turn a blind eye, Minerva will do what is right regarding Hogwarts."

Poppy leaned forward, "Are you sure?" She asked. While she a healer first, she was still a member of Hogwarts staff and as such, bound to ensure Hogwarts safety.

"You know the answer as well as I." Helena replied.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

"It is time." Milksy stated, appearing beside the quiet witch.

Hermione nodded, "I know." She set down the morning edition of the Prophet, glancing down at the headlines again trying to remember what she had spent the last hour reading. Her mind utterly occupied with the events of this past week.

_Correction, _she thought standing, _not the events, rather singular…person surrounding the events. Minerva. _

"Thank you Milksy." She said, taking the odd trinket into her hand. Fingers spinning the trinket around, noticing that it was a Wheezies coin depicting Fudge as the Minister and timing with fool.

"Mistress stated that 'Order' was the activator."

Hermione blinked, bringing her focus to the small house elf, "Did you see Minerva today?" Hermione had tried, albeit unsuccessfully last evening to see Minerva. The gargoyle had remained steadfast. And at requesting to see Elgin, Milksy had appeared stating that he was indefinitely unavailable and that the Mistress was resting and not to be disturbed.

"No'se, only Elgin."

"Did he state if she would attending the Order meeting?" Hermione questioned, feeling a vague sense of hope burst in her chest at the opportunity at seeing Minerva. The last time she had seen her…she had looked so…Hermione stopped the line of thought. She had been over it countless times already, and it helped no one. Especially, Minerva.

"Her schedule for the day has not been altered."

Hermione tampered down the hope that Minerva would indeed be attending the Order meeting. As exhaustion did not begin to describe Minerva's physical health, and as there was a Gryffindor quidditch game today…of the two…Hermione involuntarily smiled at the predictability of her formidable friend. There would be no comparison. Minerva would be at the quidditch match, and she highly doubted that Helena would consent to permitting her to attend both.

Not after the past week. First the issue of her 'discord' with Helena; the exposure and then the whole situation at Azkaban. "She'll probably not let Minerva out of her rooms for another three days." She muttered to herself.

"Mistress Hermione's?" Milksy questioned.

Hermione shook her head, "My apologies, Milksy." She smiled. "Just lost in thought." She flipped the coin over, "You said…Order." And before Milksy could reply, she felt the hook spool across her navel and then her room disappeared and her feet jerked to a stop and was standing in the large mahogany room that she now associated as the Order Headquarters. Which…her eyes swept across the familiar room, she was sure resided at Minerva's second home. The Ridge.

And her curiosity regarding the mysterious residence was waylaid…

By Ron.

"Good to see you, Hermione." His eyes swept over her face, "Looks as though you haven't got much rest since the other night."

"By the time Minerva and I returned to Hogwarts," She involuntarily paused at the image her memory evoked of Minerva bathed in snow…unable to push herself upright, the way her screams had resonated off the walls as the very walls of her rooms glowed. "I was only able to sleep for an hour."

"We found one of the escapees last night."

"Who?" Hermione asked, hoping it was one of Johaness' men.

"Dashwood Stevens." He replied.

_So much for that thought, _Hermione fought to keep her frown from deepening. "Congratulations." She said, voice straining to become upbeat. "Any news regarding the others?"

He shook his head as George's form solidified. "No." They both gave George a nod by way of greeting before Ron finished his thought. "But, we believe that we will be able to capture Aegis Black within the fortnight."

At once, Hermione's curiosity had been piqued. She had not had the energy nor time to research who Aegis Black was and what he had been sentenced to Azkaban for. She only knew what she had overheard between Kingsley and Minerva, and that Minerva viewed him as a very serious threat.

"Wasn't that the man McG was dueling against the night before last?" George asked, before leaning over and giving Hermione a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Ron nodded, eyes turning surprisingly to Hermione. "I thought you, of all people, would know who he was, working with McGonagall and all."

At this both George and Hermione frowned, George turning to her too. Exasperation leeched through her voice, "Who is he?"

"Don't you know?" Ron asked again, disbelieving.

"No." She snapped, "If I did, I obviously wouldn't be asking."

"Why…"

George reached over and slapped Ron on the side of the head. "Would you just tell us already?"

Ron's face turned sour, "Damn George." He rubbed the side of his head, "What the devil did you do that for?"

"No wonder why she left you, you dolt." George chided.

"That has…"

"Would you just tell us, Ronald!" Hermione's voice rising, thankful that they were the only three persons to have arrived.

Ron turned back to her, lips quirked as he spoke obviously annoyed at his older brother. "He was sentenced to Azkaban for murder of several witches and wizards, including Derrick McGonagall."

The night before last came rushing back to George, and how and why Rory had let his guard down became startlingly clear.

"No wonder." Both George and Hermione muttered at once for very different reasons.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Minerva flexed her fingers; between the sheer volume of magic she had used in the wee hours of Friday morning to stop the Azkaban break-out and the exposure the day before in conjunction with the following night had brought back another old problem; one stemming from an accident in her first year. She had fallen through the lake before the Holidays; and for the next several years she had extreme difficulty tolerating the weather. She paused, a wistful smile upon her face as her eyes landed upon Albus' portrait. "I still have the gloves you gave me." She said recalling the tartan mittens that she wore for years.

"I'm sorry…" Helena stepped around the doorway. "What did you say?"

Minerva raised her eyes, "Just reminiscing about our first year."

"First year…" Helena thought back, and at once realized what Minerva was referring to. "The accident with you and Digs."

"And the effects from it."

"I don't remember any long term effect for you; Digs had to wear glasses for the next three years…"

"The cold used to really bother me." She stated, "And did for years following that."

"You became hypersensitive?"

Minerva nodded, "Quite."

"And now?" Helena asked, clinically gazing at her friend for any signs of trembling, shakes. Anything out of the ordinary.

"I believe I may need to pull my seal lined cloak from the depths of my wardrobe along with a pair of mittens." Minerva began to amble towards the main hallway, her fatigue evident by the way she leaned upon her walking stick.

"How sensitive?" Helena inquired trying to gauge how this afternoon's game would affect Minerva.

"Despite the fires Bonnie stoked before arriving," Minerva extended her left hand outward, touching Helena's fingers. "I'm freezing."

Helena flinched as icy fingers grazed her hand. "Just your hands?"

They strode side by side down the hall, past dozens of portraits of Minerva and Albus' family and friends. "Primarily." She answered while the mahogany door to her dining room creaked open; the room already fully occupied with the Order members, waiting. At their entrance, heads turned, and the rest of their conversation would have to wait.

"Good morning." Minerva stated as both she and Helena moved towards their seats. Minerva's eyes quickly scanning the persons present; Helena, Harold, Percival, Tessa, Audrey, Malcolm, Poppy, Pomona, Neville, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Bill, Fleur, Luna, Charlie, Angelina, George and Hermione. She felt her eyes want to remain on Hermione; it felt safe, comforting. She idly noticed the dark circles under Hermione's eyes. _She hasn't got much sleep the past day and a half, _she thought and she forced herself to rotate her gaze. "I would like to keep this morning's meeting short," Despite everything else going on in her life, she was very much looking forward to the events of this afternoon. "As my Cubs will be playing their first match of the year."

Knowing smiles lit up the room at her comment; everyone, including the Harrison's knew of Minerva's passion for quidditch and her beloved Gryffindors. "Who are they playing?"

"Hufflepuff." Neville stated. "And they will be extremely tough to beat this year as they did not lose one player."

"And over confident." Angelina leaned forward, placing her forearms on the table.

George glanced to Angelina, both sharing a knowing smile as they stated the same thing at the same time. "Any given day, any team can be beat."

"Quidditch." Helena sneered, "A fruitless exercise."

"Even you watched it while attending Hogwarts." Harold rebuked.

"Yes," Minerva chided, "You did." Friendly smiles lit the faces of the occupants as the two lifelong friends rarely, albeit openly, bantered with the other. "Even cheered for your House and wagered on a game or two."

"They beat you out of the cup our fifth year." Blue eyes twinkling, "And cost you a small 'token' if memory serves."

Several eyebrows quirked wondering what 'token' Helena was referring to. A smile crinkled the corners of Minerva's eyes in response. "The price was small comparatively to the following two years wagers."

"Touché." Helena quipped.

"And the wagers?" George asked, curious.

Minerva and Helena broke their gaze and simultaneously turned to the younger wizard. Helena answering first, "As several of our friends lived in our houses along with Hufflepuff and Slytherin, the losing persons…" She recalled Minerva leaning back against the wall by Ravenclaw's common room, a smug look of indifference upon her face as she handed Helena the Hogwart's coat of arms flag.

_"I believe this settles my debt."_

_ Helena blinked disbelievingly at the object. "When…how did you get this?"_

_ "That was the price…"_

"Had to do various dares and procure items that were…" Minerva shared a look with Helena as she finished. "Hard to obtain."

"I must say." Helena couldn't help goad her friend a bit more, "Hogwart's coat of arms does look nice in my den."

Twenty pairs of eyes turned to Minerva, mouths gaping. "Yes it does." She consented, "Though," Minerva's eyes twinkled in return. "It was a small price comparatively speaking to the night you spent with Phillip."

Helena's cheeks flushed, even Harold turned to her....upon feeling the rush of emotion that swept through his wife. "I believe that may require an explanation." Harold stated.

Helena arched her brow in response, but was saved from having to utter any words as Filius turned to Minerva.

"Is that an original flag hanging in Helena's den?"

"Yes." Minerva obliquely replied as she felt her children's eyes immediately turn to her along with several of the Hogwart's staff.

"And how in Merlin's beard did you manage to obtain it as a student?" Filius questioned.

Ron shook his head, "I don't get what's so special about the Hogwart's flag."

George shrugged, "Nor do I."

Percival leaned forward, fingers interlaced before him. "There are several wards surrounding the tops of the towers that prevent anyone from nearing them."

"Were you an animagus at that point?" Angelina asked, feeling moderately satisfied with how McGonagall would have been able to procure the flag.

"No." Helena answered, "She didn't become an animagus until after Hogwarts."

Minerva let her mouth quirk into light smile, "I guess that will remain one of Hogwart's mysterious."

"But if one of the wards would need to be realigned…" Filius began.

"I can assure you," Emerald eyes turned to her Deputy. "That whatever loophole I found as a student has long since been closed."

Filius tried to ascertain what in heaven's Minerva could have done to procure the flag, and he thought back to his first and second year while attending Hogwarts. It was not unusual for Minerva or Black's groups to be at odds; but nothing came to mind out of the ordinary. "Did Dippet know?"

"No." Minerva stated, "But Albus suspected." She thought back to that afternoon and how he had come to the common rooms, a curious expression on his face as he asked to speak with her. "Now…regarding the issue at Azkaban and the escapees."

The next forty minutes passed in a whirlwind as information was shared, including the seven witches and wizards still at large. Three who knowingly worked with Johannes; Douglass Darrin, Alfred Smythe, and Millie Michaels. The other four who did not; Sheri Teak, Brice Brackins, Olister White, and Aegis Black.

Hermione listened sparingly, her mind still riveted to Ronald's surprising statement earlier regarding Aegis's startling connection to Minerva. And it was close to the end of the meeting that Minerva, herself, brought up Aegis.

"Before we adjourn this morning." Hermione unconsciously leaned forward, listening as she watched the subtle play of emotion slip across her normally placid face. "I believe…" Minerva cleared her throat, green eyes darting across the table and landing upon Helena for a hair's breathe of a moment, before suddenly peering intently into Hermione's. "Each of you should know that both Rory and I have a deeply personal history with Aegis as he killed Derrick." Hermione felt the air leave her lungs at the sheer emotion emanating from Minerva's eyes. "My brother."

"Relations between you and Aegis have ranged across varying degrees of hostilities through the years, Derrick's death was the final nail between the both of you." Helena stated, sincerely drawing a heartfelt look from Harold.

Minerva met Helena's gaze, "Too true." There was a rustle from a handful of occupants, mainly her children. She ignored them, turning to Harry. "Unlike your relations with Draco, Aegis and I never reconciled." Her voice dropped, "Quite the opposite I afraid."

"And Rory?" Ron asked.

Minerva pulled her meandering thoughts momentarily back to the present, eyes lifting up to the table. "His lover of over thirty years."

Little was said after her comment. No one knowing what to say. The silence stretching out for several minutes before Minerva slowly slid her chair back. Hermione watching as she elegantly stood upright; alone.

Helena at once stood, Minerva met her gaze, shaking her head. The message clear to not only Helena; but also her children who had moved their chairs out getting ready to assist her as well. She didn't want their company or help. And Hermione felt her heart seize as Minerva stretched out her hand, walking stick jumping down.

"Kingsley was right." Her Scottish lilt quietly stretching outward, emotion lacing her words. "But about the wrong person." She lifted her head, eyes sweeping down the table. "Please be safe." Her eyes paused upon Molly. "Especially anyone who has killed a member of the Black family for Aegis will seek retribution." She didn't wait for farther commentary, her cloak billowing around her as she swept from the table. Her gait, slow but determined, her walking stick timing between her steps and then the tapestry shifted and door swung open and clicked close.

Hermione stared after Minerva as soft conversations broke across the room, wishing she could follow her. _She had been through so much already this week_; Hermione thought standing up, eyes momentarily dropping to George's somber form. _That she shouldn't have to be alone too_.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Filius couldn't stop his smile from spreading across his face as Minerva and Helena both swept down the stairway. "Then you are coming?"

"Despite my objections, she insisted." Helena stated before Minerva had an opportunity.

"And you…" Filius glanced to the formidable woman. "Are coming too?"

Minerva tenderly reached up, wrapping her arm around Helena. "Just helping her to…" Her eyes flashed over to Helena. "Live a little."

Filius nodded, overjoyed. After the Order meeting he had been concerned that perhaps Minerva would not be in attendance of this afternoons quidditch game. It was apparent that she and Helena had had words over her attending, and by the way her lifelong friend was eyeing her; it was also easily understandable why Helena had chosen to attend herself too. _She was worried about Minerva going out, and…_ Filius walked in step beside the two witches while pulling on his own gloves. _She had every right to be. Minerva still looked quite pale, was leaning heavily upon her walking stick, and…_as the three of them stopped at the flagstone to allow several members of the student body to exit ahead of them, Filius felt his momentary earlier joy leave at the subtle shake residing in Minerva's right hand.

"Filius…" At once, he plastered a smile to his face, turning to see his beautiful wife adjust her oversized hat upon her head, a large smile spread across her dimpled face. "Minerva…Helena." She paused at seeing his gaze upon her, "I thought you abhorred quidditch?" She asked stepping next to the Administrator.

Helena adjusted her own royal blue scarf, "Just the injuries that come with it." She held her arm out for Minerva, knowing that while Minerva would never ask for help, today…she truly needed it.

Minerva noticed the subtle gesture, and despite not wanting to take the silent offering, she swallowed her pride and tucked her left hand through Helena's arm while chiding her in return. "I believe it was watching all of your friends succumb to injury after injury on the pitch that finally led you to become a healer."

"Correction," Helena rebuked carefully stepping down upon the steps, "It was watching my dear friends bemoan about their injuries."

"Bemoan? I don't recall bemoaning…"

"You never did." Helena replied remembering the first time she ever considered being a healer. It was late spring their first year; Minerva had just had a horrid experience with Healer Benai and was in St. Mungos recovering; prognosis grim on whether she would ever regain the full use of her hand…and Helena swore that she would never let any harm come to her friends again; if she could help it.

Minerva turned to Helena, a questioning look upon her face.

Helena patted her left hand with her own, a tender expression crossing her face. "And still don't."

* * *

xoxoxo

* * *

George took a deep breath outside the door, steeling his nerves before knocking and sticking his head in, to see a somber wizard with peppering hair and a two days beard growth glance up from the book resting in his lap. Grey eyes crinkling into a warm smile at seeing who had stepped into his room.

"Ahh, someone other 'an a healer." Rory winced adjusting his weight as he leaned back.

"Surely, McG has visited?" George pulled a chair to him, spinning it around to sit on it backwards.

"Obviously, you've never had Helena treat ya before." He flipped the book closed, "Minerva wasna in too good a shape after Thursday night."

"She seemed…" George met very interested eyes, "To be in good spirits upon arriving at the meeting."

"She went?" Surprise lacing his voice. "I canna believe Helena let her go."

"Why wouldn't she have?" George's face frowning, "She looked fine; perhaps a bit tired. Even said she would be seeing Gryffindor play this afternoon."

"Wednesday night she didna return to Hogwarts; Hermione found her the next morning buried in snow."

"Is that why she was at St. Mungos?" He asked, aghast that she had even gone to Azkaban.

"Aye, and Helena has been in a right foul mood since the Azkaban incident." Rory muttered trying not to recall her last visit to his room, foul mood didn't begin to scratch the surface of her ire. "If I could survive the trip from this blasted room to the apparation point; I would have left this morning after her rounds."

George's eyes glanced about the room, "That's easily settled." He stood, "Can't say I've ever been fond of hospitals, even St. Mungos. Where's your clothes?"

Rory met his gaze, "Are ya sure ya're willin' to take on Helena's wrath?"

"Sure." He said shrugging, and Rory pointed to the second drawer along the bottom. "Though, I hope you'll afford me a measure of discretion when she asks you who helped."

A smile broke across his face, "Of course."

George pulled open the drawer and took the clothes, setting them on the edge of the bed closest to Rory. "Will three minutes give you enough time?" He asked, already striding towards the door.

"I'll just be a minute..." Rory said, shifting off the end of the bed.

"Uhhh…" Instantly George felt his cheeks flush, "Really it's no big deal if I wait…"

"Looming outside a door with guards posted at the end of my hall, willna do me no good." Grey eyes locked with green ones. "I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but I will just be a minute."

George gave a nod, "It's just…" He swallowed, hard. "I don't think they'll notice."

Rory grabbed his kilt, "After Minerva's stunt on Thursday, they'll notice." He dropped his kilt into his lap and gingerly stood up while wrapping it around his waist.

Despite himself, George remained transfixed. "How long have you worn a kilt?"

Rory quirked a brow as he glanced up, fingers automatically finished fastening his kilt. "Since I passed my rite, just after my thirteenth birthday." He went to draw the hospital gown over his head but the pain from his chest stopped him mid-motion. "I fear…" He glanced back to George, "I may need your assistance."

At once George stepped over, "Here." He said, grabbing the bottom of the shirt and bunched it up along Rory's waist. "Now, lift your arms as high as you can." Rory complied, lifting them at about a forty-five degree angle, and George raised up his shirt, peeling it over his head and along his arms; and as George stepped back, he felt his breath catch as his eyes gazed upon Rory's chest. A large angry purple, almost black bruise, lined the bulk of the right side…and as shocking as that was; he couldn't help but notice how well defined the wizard's was. "Are you sure you should be leaving?" He asked, pushing his wayward thoughts aside.

"I've lived with worse." He uttered, reaching over and grabbing his cotton shirt. As it dropped open, a frown lined his face at seeing the three tears and blood. "Damn."

George sighed, slipping off his cloak to reveal an open black tunic with a cotton shirt beneath. "Here." He reached and shrugged his tunic off, "This should work." He met grey eyes, "We're about the same size."

Rory didn't question and lifted his arms, George helping him pull the shirt on. And as he stepped closer, Rory felt his warmth. "Why are ya helping me?" He asked, softly.

George shifted his gaze, their faces only a handful of centimeters apart. "I stopped to visit, and you…" He felt his eyes involuntarily drop to Rory's lips, his own heart hammering in his ears. "Didn't seem as though…" He drug his eyes back to grey ones, "You wanted to be…here."

"Aye…" His gravelly voice sending shivers up George's spin, "I do wish ta leave. But, that doesna answer, why _you_ are here?"

"I thought…" George's voice becoming softer, "Visiting a friend was reason enough."

"Aye," Rory whispered, "It is." He leaned forward, closing the scant space between them…warm lips tentatively touching along his own before he felt a flutter of air across his skin as he pulled back. Smoky grey eyes peering into murky green ones. "Ya know I am far older than you."

"Aye." George stated, a hint of humor curling his lips, emotion lacing his eyes. "I do, but…I figure given my eccentricities, it won't last anyways."

Rory felt a smile pull at his own lips, "Let's get out of here…" He shifted, stepping backwards to put a bit of space between them. "And we'll talk."

"Dinner?" George inquired, a lightness spreading across his features at the concept.

"Perhaps." Rory sat down on the edge of the bed, taking a breath before bending over to pull on one of his socks. "But, I'm old, George and…dunna like to move fast."

George eyed Rory, feeling oddly at ease in the elder wizard's presence. "I'm young, and I don't like moving fast. Too many complications."

Rory laughed despite himself, feeling his ribs pull in pain, but continued chuckling anyways. _Life was just about to get, very interesting._

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

The crowd erupted as the quaffle passed through the lower right hoop, Katie Nelson's voice echoing across the pitch. "Samantha Meaur scores another 10 points for Gryffindor." Hermione eagerly joined in the clapping, her eyes involuntarily dropping two rows to see Helena leaning back, a large smile spread across her face at Minerva's comment, eyes sparkling against the afternoon sun.

"Gryffindor 120 to Hufflepuff 70."

Helena leaned sideways, lightly nudging Minerva, "I fear your team may be a contender this year." Marx stated leaning over to speak with Hermione. "Miss Meaur looks to be a great addition to the team."

"We'll see," Hermione turned to face her rival house. "Who catches the snitch. Unless the game continues at this break neck pace for the next two hours."

"It has been a high scoring match thus far, it is feasible for the snitch's capture to be irrelevant." He glanced at his pocket watch and at Hermione's questioning look; he showed her the face.

The two teams had been playing for just over an hour.

She shifted her upper body a little bit, the warmth from the sun's rays not permeating her cloak as strongly as when they had first sat down. "It is, but the temperature is starting to drop."

He gave a grave nod, "Very true." The implication clear, it was a lot more difficult for the players to maneuver, handle the quaffle, hit the bludger and overall play quidditch; as there was a direct correlation to increased injuries and lower scores versus the ambient temperature on the pitch.

"And I believe the game next week…" Hermione stopped as Marx gave a subtle nod, voice softly interjecting.

"Do you know what happened earlier this week?"

At once, Hermione glanced to where he was looking, and felt her own jaw slacken. Helena had stood, extending her hand to Minerva to assist her, which she took as she stood; a very noticeable wince passing across her normally stalwart and impassive face.

"I can't believe she's leaving." Hermione whispered in response as the game continued on, the professors barely noticing as their attention had been momentarily diverted to a far more shocking, and troubling notion. Minerva McGonagall was leaving a quidditch game early; while her beloved Gryffindors were playing.

Helena waited along the side of the stands, Filius and Pomona quickly following suite, Minerva progressing slowing; each step obviously made with pain as her walking stick thudded against the floorboards. _Pity_, Hermione heard in her head as she watched the venerable woman give both Filius and Pomona a nod, _I'll have none of it_, before stepping into the aisle. Hermione fought off the feeling as Minerva stood momentarily unmoving beside Helena, head tipped to the side, listening and then she turned away from the onlookers as she responded.

"And earlier this week?" Marx asked again.

"I know that she was unavailable yesterday." Hermione obliquely replied.

"The gargoyle is most…ostentatious."

"And stubborn." She felt her heart sink as she saw a flicker of concern flash across Helena's face as Minerva nodded while standing fully upright.

Marx chuckled, "I see you have met the same _stony_ resolve."

Both women disappearing from view. "Yes." She murmured, a rumble of applause sweeping across the stands as Katie's voice rang out again that Gryffindor had scored another 10 points extending their lead to 60. She vaguely realized she had started clapping in response, her mind numb as she grappled with the unthinkable. Minerva had left the game early. Not because of an emergency, or scheduled meeting…

_Dear Merlin, _Hermione thought as she returned her seat, the professors' quietly remarking amongst themselves their own disbelief regarding Minerva's sudden departure; mirroring her own thoughts. _Minerva is truly…not well…_

_

* * *

_

Xoxoxo

* * *

Helena blinked back her own tears, trying to fortify her resolve while Minerva was behind the closed door. She had known that Minerva wasn't doing well; and they had a terse conversation about Minerva attending the Order meeting, finally convincing Helena that her attending was more about perception and moral. Especially after everything that happened Thursday night. The last thing she wanted was for everyone to believe that Johannes had gained a victory, when in fact, he had not; having only a handful of persons escape. Granted, it had been 8 too many, but it was far less than would have. They accomplished this feat with limited injuries and no fatalities; as long as no one knew how bad she was. And she had conceded, eliciting a promise from Minerva that she would not overtax herself.

Sighing, Helena ran a hand through her hair, at her friend's ruefulness. _Minerva had not overtaxed herself while at the Ridge. She merely waited, coerced me into seeing Samantha play her first game, and went to the quidditch match…which she had no business attending; being further exposed to the elements…_

The door opened and Minerva balanced herself upon the frame and Helena stepped forward at once. "Please…" Her hand already rising. "Wait."

"I grow tired of being…" Minerva grudgingly slipped her arm around Helena's shoulder. "Less than well."

"Then be a good patient and rest." Helena rebuked.

"I have been."

"Huh…" Helena reached out and flipped the covers back, "Then our definitions of rest are vastly different."

Minerva pivoted around and eased herself onto her bed. "They are the same." She rumbled, "It merely depends on your perspective."

Helena gave a nod, "That is does, dear." She whispered. "What else do you need?"

Minerva shifted her weight, pushing herself backwards as Helena draped the covers over her legs. "You to lift your ban on my alcohol intake."

"When your core temperature remains stable for 48 hours straight; I'll pour you a drink myself."

Adjusting the pillows along her back, "That still remains 46 hours away."

"Just a hair over 47."

"Stickler."

"You would be too."

"Perhaps." Minerva admitted, "But, I shall be fine." She reached out, taking Helena's hand.

"Tea…"

"I will drink several pots this afternoon and evening."

"Potio…"

"Take one every hour for the next four hours and then every two hours for another six hours; and then every four hours until I see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Minerva," Her voice turning grave, "I cannot stress this enough. Your core body temperature…"

She gave Helena's hand a squeeze, "I will listen, dear."

Blue eyes narrowed, "I want you to promise me."

Green eyes tiredly smiled at her friend. "I promise."

Helena gave her fingers one more squeeze, before leaning in kissing her on the side of her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Minerva dropped Helena's hand, "I'll be here, waiting."

Helena smiled, "You better be or I'm moving you to St. Mungos."

"Go." Minerva nodded to the door, "And give Harold my best."

They shared another heartfelt look before Helena forced her spirits upwards, "You're just jealous that you'll have to miss another black robed affair." She said stopping at the doorway.

"And you're jealous I have reason to miss." Minerva rebuked.

"Please, hold to your promise and don't push." Helena whispered.

"I will." Minerva softly replied, "Enjoy your evening."

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Milksy blinked, unsure. "Ready?"

Hermione shifted Hugo in her arms, "Remember, we cannot stay."

Hugo yawned as he nodded, "I know, mum."

Rose cast another glance at the paper, "We just want to give her these."

"I know, love." She whispered in response before giving Milksy a nod. Soft leathered fingers grazed across her skin, and then a loud hum reverberated in her ears and the scene shifted and they were standing outside the Headmistress' gargoyle.

Hermione wasted no time, "Friends folly." She half expected the gargoyle to remain steadfast, but instead it ground open revealing its staircase to Hermione and her children. She ushered Rose in before following suite, eyes casting a glance down either end of the hall, it remained vacant. She felt her shoulders relax as the stone staircase began moving upwards.

When the children had wished to visit Minerva, she had been unsure how to accomplish that feat; as it was impermissible for her children to be seen by the students. So, she had promised them that before they were to go to bed, they would try and visit Minerva. She also informed them, because Hogwarts was in session that Milksy would have to take them to Minerva's office. Milksy reminded her that she was unable to apparate anyone inside the Headmistress office or suite; and could only go as far as the gargoyle. Hermione had assured the young house elf that was far enough.

"Why is it taking so long?" Rose asked as the stone stairwell finally stopped.

Hermione frowned, _she should have known, _she thought. _Minerva is probably sleeping or resting. _"We are at…" Her voice dropped low as the staircase opened to a worn wormy chestnut door. "Minerva's private rooms."

Rose looked back at her mom with large brown eyes, "You mean we're not at her office?"

"No, we're not." She stated, "And I want you both to be very quiet as she may be sleeping."

She felt Hugo nod against her shoulder and Rose turned back around as she quietly bobbed her head too; while Hermione gently opened the door.

"Minerva?" She questioned, voice barely above a whisper. She waited a second, about to inquire once more, when she heard a ruffle from one of the rooms…followed by her distinct voice.

"Please come in." Minerva called out as she waved her hand, her bedroom door springing open.

Hermione knelled, letting Hugo down and lifting her hand from Rose's shoulder; and at once both children glanced to their mom. Hermione gave them both a nod, pointing to Minerva's bedroom door while mouthing, 'go ahead.'

They needed no further prompting and were off like a bolt.

"Aunt Minerva." Rose said as she pushed open the doorway, Hugo running behind her.

Hermione's eyes lifting in time to see the startled, yet welcome expression flutter across Minerva's face as Rose and Hugo burst into her room. "My wee lass and ever growing lad; what are you both doing here?" She asked as Rose scrambled up onto the bed, dragging her brother up too.

"We came to visit." Rose said matter a factly.

"Made you cards." Hugo stated as he handed over a partially bent piece of blue paper with drawings and half pictures all over it.

Minerva took the precious offering, green eyes easily deciphering the writing; her heart swelling in her chest as she opened it and read the contents. Get Well. Luv. Hugo.

"Thank you, Hugo."

Rose sat cross-legged, trying to wait patiently as Minerva kissed the top of Hugo's head. "Mom said you weren't well, and that we could make you a card to help you get well."

"She did?" Minerva inquired, fighting the urge to glance towards her doorway; feeling their mother's gaze upon her. "Did she?"

Rose nodded, "Yup." She lifted her hand upwards, handing Minerva the card she had made for her. "Here."

Minerva took the maroon colored paper with stars and snowflakes on the outer part, and the inside was a short hand-written note from Rose.

_Aunt Minerva, _

_ You have to get well. Soon. We want to be able to visit._

_ Love,_

_ Rose Ann Weasley_

"This is very nice, Rose." She leaned over kissing Rose on her cheek. "Thank you, dear."

Rose was beaming as she turned back to her mom. "Told you she wouldn't mind, mom."

Minerva lifted her eyes up to see Hermione leaning against the door frame. "Good evening, Hermione."

"How are you feeling?" She asked, brown eyes laced with concern.

"A bit warmer." Minerva answered, smiling at the two children.

"Is that what was wrong with you?" Rose questioned, "You got cold from too many snowflakes?"

"I did get too cold, Rose." She said, eyes filled with tenderness. "As I forgot to wear my coat and then stayed outside too long. That's why it is so important to listen to your mother and wear gloves, scarves, hats and coats so you stay warm."

Hugo made a face, "I don't like wearing hats."

"Really?" Minerva turned to him, "Why not?"

"They look funny."

"Then we'll have to get you a hat that doesn't look funny." Minerva stated, drawing a chuckle from Rose.

"You're funny Aunt Minerva." She whispered, eyes remaining fixed upon the long black hair; hands already reaching out. "Your hair is really pretty." She said, leaning forward, fingers touching the soft strands. Innocent large brown eyes, so like her mother's, blinked up at her. "Why don't you ever wear it down?"

Hermione couldn't help feel intrigued by what her daughter was asking, her breath catching as she waited, wanting to make as little noise as possible; as she too wished to know the answer to Rose's question.

"It tends to get in a tangled mess by the end of day otherwise." Minerva leaned closer to Rose, whispering for Rose alone. "And I don't like tangles."

Hermione didn't know what she had whispered, but it caused Rose to break out into a brilliant smile; a low laugh bursting from her lips. "Alright, children." Hermione stepped into the large room; pouts already lining their faces. "Time to leave."

Rose sighed, nodding. _Mom had specifically told them that they could only visit for a minute; and she had promised that when mom said to leave, she wouldn't argue. _"Yes. Mom." She whispered and turned back to her Aunt. "Thanks for letting us visit."

In spite of her fatigue, Minerva knew that she had to remain awake for another half hour before it was time to take another potion; and she would be able to sleep for four hours. And it would be much easier to remain awake, with children.

"Do we have to?" Hugo asked, glancing up at his mum. "We haven't gots no stories yet."

"Remember what I said…" A sternness lacing Hermione's voice, "About visiting?"

Rose obediently nodded, and Hugo shrugged.

"Perhaps," Minerva glanced up to Hermione, "If your mother agrees that you have time, I believe I have the energy for a short story."

"Peter Pan?" Rose asked, excitedly.

Hermione sat on the opposite side of the bed, eyes gazing into Minerva's face. "Are you sure?" She asked, not wanting her to push herself more than she already had for the day. Concern evident upon her features as she gazed at the elder woman; she had, after all, left the quidditch game early.

Minerva easily guessed the root of Hermione's apprehension, "I have rested this afternoon, and am doing far better."

Both women shared a long look; brown eyes sweeping across Minerva's face and she wished to know if the one she was staring at had a glamour charm. For Minerva looked, mildly rested and her color was fairly good.

"I would not offer, if I was not able." Minerva stated, drawing looks from both Rose and Hugo to her.

Hermione gave a solemn nod. "A short story, then. And if Helena…"

The rest of her words were drown out as Hugo jumped a top the bed, bouncing and giggling; while Rose pounced over to her mom grabbing her around the neck to give her a hug.

"Tily." Minerva stated and at once, the house elf appeared. Her yellow eyes taking note of the strange scene of Professor Granger's children hopping upon the Mistress' bed.

"Ma'am." She said.

"Please bring Peter Pan here from the library." She quietly whispered.

Tily was gone in a crack and back; before the children had settled down. Short fingers extending out the hard covered book. "Is you be needing anything else?"

"Another pot of tea would be lovely." Minerva stated, the children finally noticing Tily and Minerva's conversation. "And a dozen ginger newts with two small glasses of milk."

Tily cocked her head to the side, eyes meeting the young ones' peering gaze for a moment and then with a nod was gone.

"What's a ginger ne…wt?" Rose scrambled across the bed to Minerva.

"You'll see." She said, taking the dust cover from the book and placing it on her nightstand.

Hermione swung her legs up, careful to keep her shoes off the cover as she laid on her side. "Please, no more than a chapter."

Minerva glanced over to Hermione as she placed her glasses back on, eyes looking at the younger woman over the edge of her frame. "I doubt the audience will make it that long."

Suddenly the tray appeared in the middle of the oversized bed; two half filled glasses of milk along with a several ginger newts. Then Tily appeared next to Minerva, and was changing out teapots, while setting a second cup down. "I'se be backs soon."

She said, glancing to the bed.

"Thank you, Tily." Minerva said before the elf vanished. "Hermione, would you like a cup of tea?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, but thank you."

Rose reached over, fingers hovering above the tray. "Can I, mom?"

"I believe those are for you." Hermione replied, shifting her right arm around to prop up her head.

"Now." Minerva wandlessly summoned her cup, Hermione watching as elegant fingers subconsciously lifted the floating dish to her lips; taking a sip, before setting the china piece back upon the night stand. "Where are you?"

"They just arrived in Neverland." Rose said through a mouthful of food.

Causing Minerva to peer down at her, accent thick as she spoke in what Hermione would forever associate as her 'Professor McGonagall' voice. "Never speak with your mouth full."

Rose swallowed, picking up her glass of milk. "Sorry." She said before taking three large swallows. A milk mustache along the corner of her mouth as she set the empty glass back down. "Those are really good."

"I think so too." Minerva replied, subtly waving her hand and Hermione watched as the crumbs along Rose's shirt vanished, as did her mustache. Minerva, merely continued, not missing a beat as she flipped open the book. "I would say that puts us around page…" Her voice dropping as the pages twirled by. "32." She said, "If memory serves."

"You've read it before?" Rose asked, between bites.

"Once or twice, to my own children." She responded.

"You'se gots children?" Hugo lifted his head upwards, "Can we play with them?" Voice hopeful.

"Whose their dad?" Rose continued on, unabated. "Can we meet him too? He's probably lots of fun, like you."

"And make puppies too." Hugo said while placing his own glass on the tray.

"Yeah." Rose chimed in. "We'd have another uncle."

"I likes uncs George." Hugo blinked, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes. "He be like Unc…s George?"

Minerva's eyes had involuntarily drifted over to that of her husband's while the children had barraged her with questions. She felt a momentary pull upon her bond as their eyes met; his feelings mirroring her own. _Longing._ "I'm afraid." She forced her gaze back to Rose and Hugo, "That my children are far older than either of you, though, perhaps you could play with my grandchildren."

"Grandchildren?" Rose questioned, "But, you aren't _that _old, Aunt Minerva."

"Aye, lass." Minerva's voice had grown unusually soft, "I am." She lowered the book to her lap. "My children are older than your mother, and my grandchildren just a smidgen younger than you."

"But…" Rose stuttered, unsure as she furtively glanced to her mom and back. "You don't…I mean…" She took a breath, "You aren't…like my grandparents. They're…older, I mean…"

Hermione reached over, touching her daughter's leg; not wanting her to stammer any longer nor have her or Minerva feel uncomfortable with her questions. "There is a difference, sweetheart between those who are magic folk and those who are not." She tenderly stated, "Those who aren't, like my parents, your grandparents; age differently."

"But," She turned to her Aunt, "You aren't as old as Nana, are you?"

Minerva forced a smile onto her lips as she met Rose's open gaze, a small part of her wishing the answer she was about to give was not true. But, it was. And there was no denying it. She was old, at least by muggle standards; and by magical ones…she was middle-age. "I'm a bit older than her."

"You don't look it." Hugo crawled closer to Minerva.

Rose stared at her for another long minute, "Are you sure?"

Minerva pulled her glasses down slightly, eyes peering at the young woman over her frames. "Yes." She said, her Scottish lilt prominent. "Quite."

Rose leaned back into the pillows, "I don't know if I should believe you." She said, fingers curling around the corner, squeezing the edge. "Because, you still don't look much older than mom."

"And in relation to Molly and Arthur, do I look a bit older than they do?" Minerva asked, hoping to help the children understand.

"Yeah." Rose said shifting her weight, "But…only a little bit." She stretched out her fingers, "But not so much with your hair down."

Hugo gave up fidgeting and nestled along Minerva's side, head resting on her arm. "Is it time for story?"

Minerva picked up the book in response, eyes casting over to Rose who was still eyeing her intently; matching her mother's gaze. And she found herself glancing over to the other woman whose brown eyes were boring into her own; questions clearly written upon her beautiful features but because of the children, would not be asked. And Minerva found herself thankful for the small buffers lying next to her. With a soft smile to Hermione, Minerva reverted her gaze back to the book and began reading.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

Minerva set the book down, wandlessly summoning the brown bottle to her, and Rose sleepily blinked at her. "That wasn't the whole chapter."

"Alas." Minerva upended the dreadful substance, wincing as she banished the bottle. She would need to speak with Helena about the taste of her potions; or perhaps have her coordinate with Percival. "It is not." She whispered, nodding to Hugo and then to Hermione; Rose's eyes following where she indicated, "However, my audience has waned."

Rose noticed Hugo was sleeping, contently against Minerva's body; her mom asleep on the opposite side of the bed, pillow curled under her head. "Can you at least finish it for me?" Rose asked blinking up at Minerva.

"After I," Minerva gently extracted herself from Hugo, who shifted and was back to sleep at once. "Return."

"Where are you going?" Rose sat up in the bed.

"To the loo, dear." She took off her glasses as she stood, a wince passing across her face.

"You still aren't well, are you?" Rose carefully slid off the mattress, coming to stand beside Minerva.

"No. I daresay, not as well as I would like." Minerva set her glasses down as she picked up her wand; which immediately lengthened into her walking stick.

"Cool." Rose said, awestruck. "How'd you do that?"

"Transfiguration." She said, stepping forward and the door to the side of her night table sprung open, a light streaming out. "Do you have to go to the bathroom, lass?" She asked, pausing.

Rose peered up at her, nodding.

"Come, then." Minerva swept her hand behind Rose's back. "Quiet, though."

Rose immediately stepped forward, Minerva closing the door to block out her voice. "Wow." She said, peering around the ostentatious room. "This is huge!" She said noticing the sink, the long vanity top, shower…and then she stepped farther to the right; and more lights came on. "There's more." She said running over to the purple vanity top, another sink. And she frowned, turning back to Minerva. "Where's the toilet?"

"There are two in this bathroom." Minerva stated, "One down the far end, and one down…" Minerva lifted up her walking stick to point. "Here."

"So…" Rose glanced ahead of her, "I can go…over here."

"Yes." Minerva replied, and Rose wasted no time, skipping down to the end, hesitantly peering around the corner.

"This is so cool." Rose said, and vanished around the corner.

Minerva had taken another potion while up, and was washing her hands when Rose joined her at the sink. "What's down…" Rose pointed, "There?"

"The tub." Minerva said, placing the bar of soap in Rose's hands.

Rose's eyes got huge, "Really?" She cast a furtive glance towards the area. "Can you show me?"

"Finish washing." Minerva dried her hands.

Rose dropped the soap, it slipped off the dish. "Oops." She fumbled and chased it across the vanity top, leaving a suds trail. "Sorry." She said plunging her fingers back under the water once she had returned it.

"It'll wash." Minerva said, turning off the water and handing Rose a towel. "Now, one quick look and back to bed."

Rose nodded, setting the fabric down and stepped beside Minerva; involuntarily slipping her hand into her Aunt's. The lights remained low as they walked pass the shower, "That's really big, too." She said noticing that it had several wash jets around the walls.

"True," Minerva said, "But it feels quite nice in the morning." She drew to a stop as the chamber lit itself; bathing the room in a soft light.

"It's like a pool." Rose said, staring at the large body of water; pictures moving along the walls. "But better." She tugged on Minerva's arm. "Can I use it?"

"Not tonight, dear."

"No…" Rose said, while Minerva turned back around, Rose trying to follow; her neck craning to keep looking at the dimming area. "But, maybe tomorrow?"

"Maybe this winter." Minerva obliquely replied.

"Over the holidays?"

"That'll be fine." Minerva made a mental note to slate to keep an afternoon or evening open over the holidays to permit them entry.

"How does mom get a bathroom this big?" Rose questioned as they stopped by the door.

"Becomes the Headmistress."

Rose looked up, smile on her face. "No, Aunt Minerva. You already do that, so she can't. Be serious."

"Unfortunately, Rose." Compassion lining her eyes, "There is no other way."

Rose's face puckered in thought, "Are you being serious?"

"Very." Minerva stated.

"Then…" Rose sighed, "We'll just have to use yours."

Minerva fought back her laugh, "I suppose so." Amusement lacing her words. "To bed." She opened the door to her rooms.

"I thought," Rose lowered her voice as Minerva raised her finger to her lips, "You were going to read me the rest of the chapter?"

"How about we get comfortable, and see if you still want me to read?"

Rose nodded and stopped at the edge of the bed, to see that in the short time they had been elsewhere, Hugo had stretched his arms and legs full out. "He's in my spot." She wined.

"That's easily remedied." Minerva stated, and at once her walking stick jumped into her hand; ebony wand taking its place. She gave Rose a wink, and Rose watched as her wand moved…and Hugo lifted up…his clothes vanishing into pajamas, and her mom's robes into a long cotton shirt and pants, both now beneath the blankets; Hugo closer to her, leaving a space between Hugo and Hermione for Rose. "Better?"

"Can you change my clothes too?"

Minerva leaned over, and Rose felt a whisper and then a faint rush of magic and when she looked down; she was in pajamas. "Brilliant." She said while wrapping her arms around Minerva in a death grip hug. "Thank you."

"Up you go." Minerva said, and Rose needed no additional prompting and clambered over her brother; who barely moved. She went to pull the blankets down to get underneath, but before she could, they were already on top of her.

Minerva set her wand down, and drew off the robe she had put on when the gargoyle had activated just over an hour ago. Granted, the robe was an additional layer of clothing, it was not something she felt comfortable sleeping in. And given everything going on in her life, the last thing she needed as anything to further impede her sleep habits.

She cast a glance to Albus who was staring at her, a strange look residing in his eyes. She raised her eyes in question and he gave a subtle shake of his head. "It can wait," He nodded to the bed, meaning clear. Rose was still awake. "Get some rest, my dear."

A subtle tingle reverberated from their bond, "And I you." She whispered in response to his unspoken sentiment. She peeled her covers back, feeling her hip pull as she slid onto the sheets. Green eyes swept over the other three occupants, even Rose had fallen asleep.

Reaching over, she grazed the metal of the light, and the candles along the ceiling went out, only the faint starlight remaining. And Minerva couldn't help but glance to her side, Hugo already shifting against her solidarity; which she welcomed his warmth however, her gaze remained fixed upon his mother.

The last phrase sticking in her mind, _his mother or rather, Hermione._

Her eyes trailed up the gentle lines of her neck, the rounded curve of her chin…and Minerva involuntarily sighed. Mentally chastising herself, as she turned away; her mind picking through passages of books, scant articles and the woefully uncommon journal entry about bonding and the long term effects.

Not one had ever spoken about one of the partners once bound feeling an attraction to someone else. She, herself, had never felt even remotely attracted to another since she and Albus had bound. In fact, quite the opposite.

_This can't be happening,_ she thought as she hugged her pillow closer. _It has to be the effects of my animagus…_her mind tried to rationalize. _Then why have I never felt drawn to anyone else? _A stray thought echoed.

_Because_, her logical side interjected, _being bound negates attraction as the love, desirability; feelings for the other person are joined. There is no want, no desire to look, as you are filled with love. Utterly complete. One. _

Minerva's turbulent thoughts churned for another hour, as she tried to sort out and understand how it was possible for her to find Hermione attractive; when in reality, there was no reason she should. Because, she was still bound to Albus.

* * *

Xoxoxo

* * *

_A/N: The highs and lows are abound with this chapter; but the important thing to remember is what Minerva said to Helena at the very beginning 'I'm living out what little time I have left.' Drop a note, if you feel so inclined, and let me know what you think –_

_May stray from the story for a week or two, as I would like to finish one or two other open stories; and unfortunately for most of you, they are not in this fandom. Future and Deceiving Appearances. So…feel free to harass me, but know that I will be returning to this story…shortly. _


	41. Chapter 39 November 15th, 2009

**Chapter 39 ~ November 15****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

"Are you sure it's alright?" Rose's face a mixture of worry and elation as her fingers tentatively closed around the ebony wand.

"It's hard to learn a spell without a wand." Minerva said giving her a nod, Hugo staring wide-eyed at his older sister.

"But, you do it." She said, swallowing as her fingertips pulled the engraved wood against her palm.

"I've also had a bit more practice than most." Minerva raised another wand up, a chestnut color one. "Now." Hugo shifted in her lap, resting against her left side as she moved, "I want you to move your arm and wrist like so." Minerva demonstrated the subtle movements. "Okay. Again." Minerva said eyeing the young woman as though she was a student from years past. "Again, but don't let your fingers dip."

Rose continued practicing the movement; Minerva giving praise as she mastered the process of a 'flick'. Not to be outdone, Hugo started trying too; and Minerva set him upon another task, making drawings for her to animate. Which he did with gusto, frantically scribbling pictures of cats, a dog, an owl, a two-legged spider…

"Now, the spell we are learning will repair items."

"Like when I drop my glass and it breaks?" Rose's voice sounding hopeful.

"Precisely." Minerva continued on, "But, you must never use it unless you are with me or your mother. Is that understood?"

Rose nodded, but then frowned. "What about with dad?"

Minerva shook her head, reiterating again. "Only with your mother or I."

Rose didn't even ponder Minerva's words before she spoke. "Okay."

"The spell is _Reparo_."

"Reeparo." Rose tried repeating.

"Listen closely, lass." Minerva reiterating the spell. "Reparo."

"Reeeparo." Rose uttered.

"Not so long on the 'e'." And before she could repeat the word, Minerva felt the wards re-align along the inner passageway. At once, she turned to her bedroom and wandlessly closed the door only seconds before a door along the back of her living room magically appeared.

"That wasn't there before." Rose commented as the red door opened, Filius emerging, surprise lining his eyes at seeing that Minerva had guests.

"Good morning, Minerva." He stated before smiling at the children. "Rose, Hugo." He gave them a nod turning his attention back to Minerva, "I didn't realize you had guests." Minerva's face remained the picture of tranquility as she met his inviting gaze, "I was hoping to speak with you, and also," He stepped closer, voice dropping practically matching his height. "If you knew where Hermione had vanished too? As she was not at breakfast this morning." He cast a glance back to the children meaningfully.

Minerva stepped forward, discreetly shielding his view of the children. A light smile upon her face, _She did so love his attention to detail, it almost made the whole game of chess pointless in comparison. _"Hermione had to take care of a few personal items this morning and will be back, shortly."

Filius' brow rose, imperceptibly. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Minerva was dodging something. _Probably Hermione's whereabouts_, he surmised, _it's no different than when another staff inquires about her or I and she sidesteps the question. Undoubtedly, with everything that has gone on this week, and the help Hermione has given to her, it is no wonder why Minerva volunteered to watch her children. And…_he felt his own worry at her health ease at the light shining from within her eyes, _they have been most beneficial for her too. _"When you have time, there are some items along the North Wing that will need to be addressed."

"Helena shall be by this afternoon." Minerva stated, "And then I shall have time."

"I'll inform them that it will be after dinner." Filius turned, a smile curling his lips as he realized what Minerva had been doing with the young woman. "Starting a bit young?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Easily trainable." Minerva replied, nodding to her young student.

Filius' golden eyes scanned back, "More on the up stroke, Rose." He commented and walked by; a bounce in his own step. "And you'll have it by the time Hermione returns."

Rose was about to respond that mom was already here, but he was already past her and Minerva was again repeating the spell she needed to learn.

Filius paused at the door, eyes taking in Minerva's uncharacteristic demeanor as she directed Rose while occupying Hugo. _Correction, _he thought, _not uncharacteristic, just rarely seen. _His heart swelled again, glad that she had a moment's respite in these trying times.

xoxoxo

Hermione slowly shifted, feeling oddly rested as she blinked herself awake. _The sheets feel…a bit odd, _she thought stretching out and paused mid-stretch when her toes didn't come into contact with the footboard. "Uhhh…" She instantly awoke, the last vestiges of sleep gone, as she recalled the events of last evening. She had brought the children to visit Minerva…

_The children._ She sat up at once, flipping the covers back and realized where she was and felt momentarily numb. She was in Minerva's bedroom.

Alone.

Her mind momentarily stopped, before utter panic shot through her system in conjunction with over two dozen questions. _How long was I asleep? How did I get under the covers…? _Her eyes noticed that her robes had been transfigured, _Minerva?_ And at the same time, she noticed that phoenix clock on the wall indicated that it was just after 10 in the morning.

_She had slept for over eleven hours?!_ She hadn't done that in…years. _Granted, she hadn't had that many hours of sleep combined the three previous days, but to sleep that long…was uncanny. _Climbing out of bed, she walked over to the door and turned the handle, and at once, Rose's soft words flittered across the air.

"Like this?" She heard the questioning tone, and Hermione paused. Listening.

"Almost." Came Minerva's reply, and Hermione fully opened the door…to the heartwarming, albeit, mildly shocking scene of Minerva teaching her daughter how to cast a spell. "But you need to snap your wrist a bit more." She raised her long arm, holding a light colored wand from her fingertips and demonstrated what she meant. _Where's her wand? _She thought as her eyes turned to her daughter…and shock spread through her as she realized that her daughter was holding and using Minerva's wand.

"Ahhh…" Rose murmured, understanding and she went to raise her hand, but stopped a smile spreading across her face. "Morning mom."

Hugo reached out, grabbing as many of his pictures as he could in his arms and ran towards her. "Look!" He said, losing pictures along the way. "They move!" Pulling her attention from Rose and Minerva…

Xoxoxo

Minerva turned at Rose's salutation, and her heart skipped a beat. Hermione stood framed in the doorway, clothes gently clinging to normally undefined curves, that were hidden beneath layers of robes, hair slightly disheveled, and for the first time in well over a month…rested.

Hermione kneeled down, scooping her son into her arms as Hugo latched onto her neck jabbering about his pictures and how they moved; and as she stood up, brown eyes landed upon hers. And Minerva felt her lips involuntarily curl into a smile as she spoke. "Good morning."

"It is." Hermione replied, feeling oddly light as she shifted Hugo onto her hip. "I see…" Her eyes momentarily darting to Rose and back as she spoke, "You've been busy."

Minerva's eyes sparkled in response, "Perhaps."

"And what…" She moved towards her daughter, "Have you been learning?"

"How to repair things." Rose stated simply, a glow about her staring up at her mom.

"And the spell?" Hermione asked.

Rose nervously glanced to Minerva, Hermione following her gaze, and schooled her face to keep the smile from her eyes as Minerva nodded and mouthed, _'Reparo'_.

Rose puffed up her chest and turned back to her mom. "Reparo."

Hermione's face broke into a grin. "Great enunciation, love." She stated proudly, leaning over and feeling Hugo grip tighter as she kissed the top of her daughter's head.

"Thanks, Mom!" Face beaming as she turned back Minerva, "Can I try now?"

"Try?" Hermione glanced to Minerva.

"The spell, dear." Minerva stated matter of factly, before turning to Rose. "Remember, it's all in your wrist motion."

Rose anxiously nodded, "I know." She said, knuckles practically white from the death grip she held upon Minerva's wand.

"Come her a moment, lass." Minerva stated, and shifted her position on the sofa as Rose came over to her and she gingerly slid down to one knee. Minerva gently spun Rose around, placing the child's back to her and she extended her hand out, wrapping it around Rose's. "Now, relax your grip."

Rose turned to the side, "I don't want to drop it." She whispered.

"I assure you, I've done far worse." Minerva reassured her.

"But…" Rose brought the wand closer, "It's so pretty." She said fingering the engraving down the dark wood and intricate woven handle that seemed to have long since been molded to its caster from the wear along the wand.

"I am partial to it." Minerva whispered, "Now, arm out."

Hermione absently let Hugo down, eyes riveted upon Minerva and her daughter. As Minerva placed her hand again over Rose's. "We are first going to do this together." Minerva stated. "Ready?"

Rose nodded, "Yeah…" She murmured, breathless and then she felt her aunt move her arm and she said the spell. She looked at the cup they had pointed the wand at, and frowned. "It was already repaired." She turned her head to the side, "How can I tell if my spell worked?"

Minerva could see the smile on Hermione's face, she was sure it matched the one upon her own. "Quite right." She said, "My apologies." And absently she pulled her hand from Rose's and pulled her fingers to her, making a fist. At once, the cup jumped forward as though being summoned and then clattered to the floor in a dozen pieces. "Now," She returned her hand back atop of Rose's. "Shall we try again?"

"Yes." Rose said at once, focusing on the object. They proceeded to repeat the process, and Rose jumped up in elation as the cup sprung back together. "I did it!" She turned at once, throwing her arms around her aunt. "I did it. THANK YOU, Aunt Minerva!" She squeezed tightly. "Thank you." She whispered into her ear and gave her another squeeze before spinning back around and ran into her mom's arms. "I did magic!" Voice jubilant, "Just like you!"

Hermione chuckled, "Yes, sweetheart, you did." She couldn't help but pick up her daughter. "And you did a marvelous job."

"Can I practice again?" She asked pointing the ebony wand towards the cup.

"I think that…" Hermione gently reached up to take Minerva's wand from Rose. "You've done enough this morning."

Rose's eyes lifted to her aunt, "Can I please?"

Minerva placed her hand upon her knee, tilting her face away from Hermione and Rose as she pushed herself upright. The pain and stiffness still prevalent within her joints, and she knew from experience it would take; time. Time, which, for better or worse, she did not have much to speak of. "I'm afraid," She stilled her voice, as she straightened her back. "That we need to have breakfast first."

"But we had a snack."

Minerva turned, fully facing mother and daughter. "Yes, and…that was only…" Hugo joining in too. "Until your mother _(mum) _woke up."

Rose went to interrupt, but Hermione had already extricated the wand and shook her head no; brow arched. "Please help Hugo clean up his pictures…" She stated, and Rose nodded.

"Yes, mom."

Hermione walked the five steps to Minerva, and as she went to extend her hand out, she paused for a moment. She had of course seen Minerva's wand, but never up close and with light. The engravings were so faint, that unless it rested within her hand, she would never have noticed them. _Perhaps the engravings are Celtic in design_? And she noticed the small infinity emblem just beneath the nodule that denoted the roped handle that had obviously seen a lot of use, the wear readily apparent and easy to deduce how it rest within Minerva's hand. "Most wands are not…modified once purchased." She handed the ebony wand back to its owner.

Minerva gave her a faint smile, "My uncle had a panache for flair."

"Did he assist you…" Hermione nodded to the wand which Minerva deftly tucked within her robes. "In engraving the wood?"

"No." She answered, "That would have been his wife, my aunt, Cora." She cleared her throat, "However, that was a lifetime ago."

Hermione eyed Minerva, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better, thank you." Minerva stated, about to turn away from Hermione, but felt a hand stilling her movement. At once, her head turned back to see Hermione's peering gaze, "I am feeling better."

"Yesterday…" Hermione's voice dropping in conjunction with her hand. "The quidditch game?"

"I had pushed too fast." Minerva forced a smile to grace her features, "Nothing more."

Concerned filled brown eyes, "It was more, and is more."

"No!" Hugo's voice breaking the quiet moment between the two women. "These are mine!"

"But I want to draw too!"

"That paper's mine!"

"Mom!"

"Mum!"

Hermione whirled around to speak with her two children, but Minerva's voice was already ringing out. "There is enough to share, Hugo. Rose," She poignantly looked at the young girl, "You need to ask and not just take."

"Yes, Aunt Minerva." Rose muttered, "Can I draw too?"

Hugo went to stoutly refuse, but at seeing Aunt Minerva subtly shake her head yes, he nodded. "Yeah."

"Are you hungry?" Minerva asked, eyes turning back to Hermione. "I was going to have Elgin bring a late breakfast."

"Yes," She absently fingered her clothes, "Though, I believe we have overstayed our welcome…"

"Nonsense." Minerva replied, and before Hermione could refuse, Minerva called for Elgin.

At once, the blinking house elf was staring back at Minerva. To classify the day as 'unusual' would be an understatement, but he would be willing to handle many more 'unusual' days if the Mistress' eyes twinkled as they were now. "You'se ready for breakfast?" He asked, knowing that while she had him bring a few pieces of fruit and her some coffee, that they would be needing to eat a little something more.

"If you would, please." Minerva stated and with a low bow and a quiet pop, he was gone. Minerva lifted her gaze to the shifting younger woman, "It'll be here momentarily."

Hermione felt…strangely at ease under Minerva's gaze; and before she could analyze her thoughts farther, she took a hesitant step backwards. "I'm going to…" She cleared her throat, berating herself for her suddenly odd behavior. "To change and use the loo…"

Minerva gave her a nod, "There is one…" She pointed to the door to the right of her bedroom door, "There. Or feel free to use the one off the bedroom."

Instantly Rose piped up, "Have you been in her bathroom mom? It's huge!" Rose was already slipping her hand through Hermione's, beginning to lead her to Minerva's bedroom. "And Aunt Minerva said we could use the tub…"

Hermione glanced back to see an amused Minerva, "If you don't mind…"

"There are fresh linens already laid out, feel free." Minerva replied as her face disappeared behind the doorframe and Rose continued to jabber on about the wonders of Minerva's tub, Hermione hardly noticing as they stepped into the bathroom. The lights springing to life upon their entrance, and her heart warmed at seeing a towel, washcloth, and a change of clothes setting upon the purple marbled vanity.

"Rose," She said, eyes dropping to meet that of her daughter's. "Would you mind giving me a minute?"

"But I want to show you the tub." Rose's eyes darting to the walkway just beyond.

"And we will, honey. I'd just like to change first."

"Are you going to take a shower…" She pointed to the large enclosure, "In there?"

Hermione shook her head, "No dear."

Large eyes blinked upwards, "But why? It's wicked cool. Water comes from everywhere."

Hermione kneeled down at once, "Did you take a shower?"

Rose nodded, "Yup. This morning."

Hermione felt suddenly at a loss, "Did Hugo?" She asked, disbelieving that she had slept through one…and as Rose nodded, she corrected herself; both of her children taking a shower, changing, going into the living room, and playing for the bulk of the morning. "And did Mi…Aunt Minerva help you?"

"Of course," She stated wondering why her mother was asking such foolish questions. "She turned the water on and puts soap on the washcloth and helped me wash my hair." Rose took the half dozen steps over to the shower, "The water turns on just…" She pointed, "Over there."

Hermione eyed the decadent shower, and for a moment was tempted, but…immediately curtailed the notion as this was not her bathroom and breakfast would be arriving momentarily. "I'll take one back in our quarters," She leaned forward, turning on the faucet and wetting the washcloth.

"Aunt Minerva wouldn't mind." Rose stated as Hermione wiped her face.

"I think we've imposed enough."

"What's im..posed mean?"

"Obligated, feeling the need to assist or help out."

Rose frowned and shook her head, "That isn't like Aunt Minerva." She peered up at her mom, "She likes us. We aren't im…posed."

"She does like you," She smiled lovingly at Rose, "Very much. And Hugo too." Rose's face momentarily soured at the mention of her brother's name, but Hermione quietly continued speaking. "However, we must not take advantage of that."

"But…mom…" Rose stepped closer, "I don't understand…she loves us."

"Yes." Hermione whispered, _I do believe, she really does, _she thought to herself. "But an Aunt…may love you, but sometimes it isn't as much as your parents or grandparents."

"But she does." She stated simply, "Just like you, but…" Rose blinked, "Different." She said proudly; and with a smile, she walked down the hall. "This is just…so…cool." She whispered, voice echoing off the stone walls of the tub.

Xoxoxo

"Thank you, again." Hermione stated, as Hugo adjusted his weight along her hip.

"Can we see you when we come back to visit mom, Aunt Minerva?" Rose asked as wide brown eyes blinked upwards.

"I will see you in…" She glanced to Hermione who mouthed, 'two weeks'. "Two weeks."

"So we can come back!?" Excitement ringing from her voice, "And we aren't im…posed?"

An elegant brow arched, "Imposed?" She questioned, gaze shifting up to the older brown eyes of her mother for a solid few seconds, before dropping back to the innocent one's peering up at her, waiting expectantly. "You are far too precious to impose upon my time, my bonnie wee lass."

"Told you," Rose's gaze shifted to her mother, "mom."

"Yes, you did." Hermione stated, feeling amused, yet questioning green eyes upon hers. "But, we need to be mindful of Minerva's time, dear." Rose went to open her mouth, but Hermione gently shook her head. "Say thank you."

Hugo's face broke into a smile, "Tank you, Aunt Menerva."

Rose stepped forward, arms upwards. "Thank you." Minerva bent over, giving Rose a gentle hug.

"You are quite welcome, my lass." She whispered.

"We can come next time too?" Rose asked, verifying.

Minerva kneeled down, coming face to face with the young child. "I cannot promise that you will have the time to visit me here or that I myself shall be here." She reached out, fingers gently lifting her tiny chin as small lips puckered. "But," Her thumb reached out and caught a stray tear. "I will see you in two weeks."

"You promise?"

"Aye." Minerva stated into pleading eyes. "I do."

Rose rushed forward and embraced her again, "I love you." She whispered into Minerva's ear and then she was gone and standing shyly behind her mother gazing at her. Minerva gave her a warm smile while standing upright.

She waved her hand, and the door at the far end of the living room appeared. "Take that passageway back to your rooms."

"How will we know what room is mine?" Hermione inquired.

"You will know." Minerva obliquely stated, "And please continue to rest."

Hermione turned and quietly opened the door, setting Hugo down and ushering him through behind Rose; before turning back to Minerva. "I cannot thank you enough."

A warm smile lit her eyes, "Nor I you."

Brown eyes met emerald ones perplexed at her statement, "I…" Rose came back through, reaching up and tugging on her hand.

"Coming mom?"

Hermione felt her mouth remain open for a moment more as she stared at Minerva before dropping her gaze to her daughter. "We're going."

"Bye, Aunt Minerva." Rose said disappeared again, voice ringing out into the living room. "She has such cool rooms, Hugo."

Hermione glanced back to Minerva, but Minerva was already walking away; fingers curling upon the brass banister leading to her office. And Hermione bit back any further commentary, knowing that now was not to the time to talk. She would make the time after training this week, and at once, followed her daughter and son into the inner passageway. Minerva's eyes trailing after the younger woman as she pulled the door close behind her; her heart sinking in her chest as the bond within her pulsed. "I know." She murmured aloud as she turned her head to see Albus' portrait. "Just, not today." She breathed. "I don't have the energy." She started walking down the stairs.

"We need to talk." His voice ringing out in the otherwise, quiet office.

"Amongst other things." Minerva replied, stepping around the casing. "But I haven't the heart…"

"Tabby…" His voice breaking, and she could feel his own heartache….and love.

As one, the headmasters and headmistresses glanced between Albus and Minerva an left their portraits, leaving the two – alone.

Slowly, tear stricken eyes lifted to those of her husband as a string of Gaelic ushered forth from her lips. _"I love you, more than life itself, Albus. But, please, love. _A tear slipped unbidden from the corner of her eye, _Not today._

Xoxoxo

"I did not give my endorsement." Aegis' eyes bored into Andre's.

"By leaving Azkaban," His jaw rippled, "It was implied."

"You are not, Voldemort, Andre." He chuckled as the other wizard flinched, "And I pay homage to no one."

In one fluid motion, Andre's hand was already pulling his wand out; only to see Aegis' wand leveled at his face. "It was I who ensured you were released."

Aegis narrowed his eyes, "True, however," He rolled his wand within his fingers, debating. "You sought my release as a distraction to Minerva, not as a benefit to me. And…" With practiced ease, he slipped his wand back to within his shirt. "I believe I have fulfilled my end."

"Harkiss will bring about a new world order." Andre uttered, trying to persuade the once prominent wizard to join their cause.

"I am not convinced." He turned to Lucius, "And what of you?"

"He is fronting…"

Andre's words died away as Aegis and Lucius stared at the other. Equally ice blue eyes measuring, learning…seeking unspoken knowledge until after a full minute, Aegis threw his head back and laughed. A feeling he had never thought he would feel, again. "Fronting, but he has not chosen sides."

Andre cast Lucius a cold, hard look. "You said…"

Lucius cocked his brow, "I have given refuge, and what you do with your time means little to me. However, after the last era, I have much to lose."

"As do I…"

"Leave us," Aegis interrupted Andre's sentiment. "As you know little of what we mean, for you have escaped Azkaban and your family remains, free."

Red faced, Andre cast the two men a final look before striding from the room. "You will join."

Aegis raised his hand, fingers motioning for the door to close and at once, the mahogany wood eased shut. "I will go to Gringott's on Tuesday, my friend and repay you for your time and your family's hospitality."

"As I said, Aegis. A gift."

The elder wizard stared for a long moment at the younger one, "Lucius…"

Blond locks shook as he raised his hand, "I have done well these last years."

"You family estate survived the war?"

"Yes." Lucius quietly answered, knowing that the last two days had been extremely hard on the once stately wizard as he learned the startling truth regarding how few of his family were still…alive.

"And this business with Harkiss." Aegis summoned his cloak. "What do you know of it?"

Brow arched, "He seeks something within Hogwarts stating it will lead to immortality."

"Hence Minerva's interference."

"Amongst far more personal reasons, as he killed her daughter." Lucius stated and was surprised by the sudden lack of paler to Aegis' face.

"Which one?" He ghostly breathed in question.

"I…" Lucius stammered in response, dumbstruck at his friend's obvious distress. "Didn't know she had more than one."

Blue eyes blinked back the storm of emotion, "She had four children; two sons and two daughters." He took a step away, drifting towards the large opaque window. "Tessa and Esmerele were her daughters' names." His hand running along the ledge as he gazed into spiral of afternoon colors spawned by the setting sun. "And Harkiss…" He gave a shake of his head, clearing his thoughts of distant memories. "Has he stated what will happen to Hogwarts once he recovers the object he seeks?"

"No. Though…" Lucius carefully phrased the rest of his response, "The way Minerva has been trying to thwart his plans, leaves one to wonder."

Aegis could see the ghost of smile tug upon the corner of his lips through the reflection at Lucius' words. "Undoubtedly." He quipped more to himself than to Lucius as he turned back to the man who he had taken in as a son near fifty years ago. "She has been making her usual nuisance of herself to his endeavors; and trying to involve the Ministry as well."

"She has." Lucius agreed.

"And you…" He gave a nod, "Do you still have ties to McGonagall lines of business?"

A frown passed across Lucius face, "Yes." He shifted as he cleared his throat, "Though not as deep as I once did."

Vague words, unspoken sentiments, and how his young protégé had managed to return from the ashes following Voldemort's demise congealed. He withdrew his wand and silenced the air in the room as he stepped closer; voice perilously soft. "Get word to Minerva, that I would like to meet with her, one held in truce."

"I can't…" Lucius began, but Aegis' eyes hardened.

"There are only a handful of families that would have been able to assist in your fall from grace; and I remember…" His eyes clouded over, "A dreary, cold April day that the scent of lavender washed down the corridor, past my cell, along with a flutter of distinct emerald. You were released the following day." Lucius' face blanched, "You needn't worry; your secret will forever remain safe. As I am sure, that your association to her is as ambiguous as hers to you. However," He took a marginal step closer, peering down at the man. "I _know_ that you can arrange a meeting."

There was only a moment of hesitation before he gave a nod, "And when it is asked as to the nature?"

"Hogwarts survival, as I have no desire to see it destroyed nor does she."

"And if that is not enough?"

Aegis' jaw rippled, "Then tell her…" His voice becoming ragged, "It is in truce, and that I still hear the faint strands of music once played by my Highland lover."

Xoxoxo

"You're telling me, that you have not heard from Rory?" Helena asked disbelievingly.

Minerva met her glacial gaze, "No, I have not."

"I swear…" Helena shoved her wand back into her cloak, "You'll both be the death of me." She grumbled.

Minerva inwardly groaned at what Helena was referring to. "He left?"

"Despite my incompetence staffs efforts to monitor him; yes, he has left."

"They wouldn't happen to have been the same staff as the other evening?"

Helena chortled despite herself at Minerva's remark. "No, I did have the forethought of changing the detachment." Minerva smile broadened, "A lot of good that did."

"Who was the last person to see him before Rory went missing?"

Helena's eyes narrowed, "George Weasley."

"Have you spoken with him?"

"He's been unavailable."

Minerva frowned, "Did you try George's shop?"

"He was with customers and has yet to return my call."

"I'm sure Rory will be fine; and if I do speak with him…" Minerva paused, immediately drawing Helena's gaze. "I shall direct him back to you."

"Ohhh bugger." Helena said shaking her head, "Don't bother. Just tell him not to strain his ribs for another week."

"I shall relay that to him."

"You and he…" Helena sighed, "Dare I ask when you spoke with him?"

"I have not spoken with him." Minerva continued on, but at the look of chagrin upon Helena's face, she summoned the note she had received from him earlier. "But…" She handed it to Helena, "I did receive this."

Helena pulled out her glasses, and with practiced ease…she slipped them on. The print immediately becoming legible.

_I have taken my treatment from St. Mungos to the Highlands. And a most welcome complication may be brewing upon the horizon. _

"Complication?"

Minerva shrugged, "With Rory, that could be anything from the price of cattle to a new love interest."

"For his sake, I hope it is the latter."

"Me too." Minerva agreed, hoping that Rory was referring to George and the possibility of something more.

Xoxoxo

Hermione's attention was immediately pulled to the grate as the flames danced in a menagerie of colors before forming into the face of her ex-husband.

"Hermione?"

Sighing, she set down her quill. "I am here." Their conversations were still moderately strained since their divorce become public a little less than a month ago, but they were muddling through. "Is something wrong with the children?" She asked, while standing.

"They are fine. Rose just went down, but…" He shook his head, "What are you playing at?"

Instantly, Hermione felt her ire ignite, but for the sake of her children bit back a caustic retort. "As it is late and I am tired; perhaps you would like to tell me, what I have done wrong _this _time? As I have not a clue as to what you are referencing."

"The kids…"

"Were here…"

His voice ratcheting up another notch, "Said that you stayed at McGonagall's?"

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Hermione snapped, "The children wanted to see her…"

"And you fell asleep!"

"Unlike you, I have to work during the day and cannot call in or take a day off after I have spent the whole of a night up, waiting at the gates of Azkaban. I was exhausted!"

"Then you shouldn't have taken the children!"

"How can you say that? I only see them once every other week as it is!"

"If you are so tired that you fell asleep when visiting, then you shouldn't be watching them! What if you were to fall asleep…."

"And what? You don't sleep when they are with you?"

"That's not what I said!"

"Why did you call!?" She snapped, "To berate me for my fatigue or was there a noteworthy reason?"

"Just…" His brows knitting together, "Keep your distance from McGonagall, alright?"

"What in blazes is that supposed to mean?"

"Harkiss is after her…" He said as his hand came into view, running through his hair. A characteristic she knowingly associated with agitation. "And with everything else, the last thing I want is for our children to be endangered."

"Their lives are in danger regardless of their association to Minerva; as they are _our children_, Ron. And you are an Auror and I have been assisting Minerva; and we both are members of the Order."

"But you don't need to foster a deeper friendship with the woman! She's…"

"A friend, Ron." Hermione interrupted, "Who I respect, very much."

"Fine! But stop letting the children visit her!"

"And are you going to stop them from seeing Harry or Ginny now too?"

"That's different!"

"How?" Hermione asked, kneeling before the fireplace.

"They're their aunt and uncle."

"So is Minerva."

"Not by blood." Ron refuted.

"And neither is Harry."

"Dammit Hermione! She's old enough to be their grandparents, she has her own family, she doesn't need to infiltrate ours!"

"What part of her relationship with them frightens you so much?"

"What?!" His voice rising upwards three octaves.

"Is it that she actually spends time with them, and listens to them? Teaches them? Reads to them, and genuinely cares and doesn't view them as a burden?"

"How can you ask that?"

"How can I not?" She rebuked, "Or is there another reason why you called me at 8:30 at night to try and dissuade me from allowing our children to visit a remarkable woman who they love…" His face blanched at the word of endearment spoken regarding Minerva. "And view as their aunt?"

"Hermione…" Anger lacing his voice, "While they may view her as their aunt, she is not and will never be."

"I didn't realize that blood mattered so much to you."

"Regarding family, it matters a great deal." He retorted.

"Then Minerva is more family than I, as she is a pure blood…and I a mudblood."

"That isn't what I meant!"

"And I fail to see what most of tonight's conversation was supposed to mean. Save for the obvious, my instincts are secondary to yours."

"Minerva…"

"Is a good friend, Ronald." Hermione leaned closer to the flames, steel lining her words. "To not only I, but you and the children. And I owe her my life on more than one occasion since coming to Hogwarts. So whatever your aversion to her involvement with the children, or with me, get over it. She has all of our best interests at heart. And I will not discuss this nonsense again."

"And when your association causes the death of one of our children?"

Hermione felt her throat tighten and tears threaten to spill, "If one of our children dies, it will not be because of her, rather because of us and our negligence in our duties of protecting them." She swallowed hard, "Now, if there was nothing else…I have papers to finish grading."

"Next time, don't bother taking the children if you are going to pawn them off to another to watch…"

"Quid pro quo." She stated, "And don't bother fire calling again if you only wish to discuss such drivel."

Disgusted, she blanketed the fire, smothering his image. "Damn your petulance!" She spat, standing. Her rage consuming the ease and comfort from her day. "Why do you have to be…so…damn negative?!" She turned back to her desk, "And why…of all people…are you reticent about Rose and Hugo befriending Minerva?"

"She is not an easy person for most to understand." Godric's mild voice cutting across the air, "And is often viewed as a threat."

"They can learn so much from her." Hermione stated, turning fully to Godric.

He gave a grave nod, "True, they can. As can most."

"But he is being foolish."

"No." Godric stated, eying the young woman. "He is envious of your growing friendship and worries of its repercussions; and it does not help that your children are quite taken by her."

Hermione couldn't have stopped the smile if she tried as she thought of Minerva interacting with her children, and she didn't want to. The image alone was as though the sun had just emerged from a cluster of clouds upon a dreary day. "She is marvelous with them."

"She has always had a way with children."

"What was she like with her children?"

A ghostly smile crossed his face, "Much like she is with yours. Kind. Caring. Thoughtful. Strict. Teaching." He paused as images from long past swept over him, "Loving."

"Did she teach her children how to use magic before they attended Hogwarts?"

A rich chuckle slipped from the portrait's lips. "I don't know who was worse, her or Albus. As they both loved to teach the children new spells."

Sighing, she thought back to her time with her children and the scant time she had been able to spend with them for the past four months. "I shall have to remember and subsequently follow their transgressions regarding teaching children under age magic."

"Ah…" Godric paused, "While they may have taught their children magic, they were very strict in where and who they could perform it around. And, unlike lessons in school, they spent an inordinate amount of time teaching the fundamentals of magic before they began with the practical aspect."

"I shall speak with her about it." Hermione's voice drifting away.

"Be sure too." He stated simply before retiring from the portrait.

Hermione ran a hand through her own curls, mind immediately drifting back to her terse conversation with Ron and the topic. The very topic that had seemed to occupy most of her thoughts of late.

_Minerva McGonagall_.

She had so many questions she wished to ask of the venerable woman from this past week. And one very important topic that she wished to address; one that she should have addressed weeks ago regarding trust.

But her own imprudence had prevented her from seeing what had been obviously right before her; and she wished to correct her short sidedness, immediately. _Well_, she thought, as her eyes landed upon the stack of fifth year essays, _as immediately as Hogwarts business and their respective schedules permitted. _

And what of Ron…and his damn meddling!

"Ugh!" She groaned into the air, and gave up the pretense of trying to return to work. She was not in the right frame of mind to slosh through the overbearing stack of bad grammar and woefully prepared essays. Snatching her wand off the desk she slipped from her chambers, pausing by her outer door as she summoned her silken black cloak before disappearing down the corridor to burn off some of her residual frustration left over from her conversation with Ron.

Xoxoxo

_That brings the sum total to…599 pages (no wonder why it takes forever to load on my computer). Have a good week…I know I will – it's 70 degrees & sunny and the icing on the cake is I get to write about… 'chess' ;)_


	42. Chapter 40 November 17th, 2009

**Chapter 40 ~ November 17****th****, 2009 (Tuesday)**

Hermione sighed as the two barn owls deposited the now standard parcel size of letters in front of her. She gave both owls a strip of bacon and with a glance at the letters, banished them to her room. She was not in the mood to deal with the sudo-courtiers who were still proclaiming their undying love and desires to have a single opportunity to date her.

"More letters?" Sinistra asked, knowing how much Hermione despised the constant correspondence.

"It would seem."

"Perhaps, some will be meaningful."

Hermione forced a smile upon her face, "There is always that possibility." She poured herself another splash of juice.

Sinistra chuckled causing a handful of professors' to glance towards them, "I can only imagine what some of the proposals state."

"It makes grading third year essays palatable."

"Ohh, I do hope that is not how you respond." She chortled.

"As appealing as that sounds, I do try and refrain."

Sinistra leaned conspiratorially forward, "But I have to ask, hasn't there been one that has made you pause?"

"After everything the past few weeks, finding a lover hasn't been high on my wish list. And with the divorce, the children," She sighed, "It's not as though I wouldn't mind, but…" She peered into her friend's warm eyes. "The last thing I want to do is pounce into a relationship based upon a note of infatuation."

"Even for a torrid, steamy affair?"

"I shudder to think what the Prophet would say to that."

"Ahhh…good point." Sinistra whispered feeling slightly dejected for her friend.

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"Mother! It's his birthday." Tessa pleaded.

"And I will be there, but I am unable to be there for the whole of the day."

"But…what if…" Tessa's eyes clouded over, "You aren't here next year?"

"Then we will make the most of this one." Minerva responded instantly, knowing full well that the odds were pour at best for her to be here this time next year.

"But Cal…"

"Honey," Minerva took a step closer, voice softening. "I have made my decision, and it was not one I made lightly; but it is one that I will have to live with. And part of that decision was to remain as the Headmistress of Hogwarts; and there are functions of my job that I must be present for."

Tessa stared at her mother, knowing that despite her personal feelings regarding her mother's decision, she would respect it all the while, damning the institution that had taken so much from her family and continued to do so. However, it didn't mean that she wouldn't state her feelings…"But it's a damn Ministry…"

"Mind you tongue." Minerva snapped, curtailing her desire to end the entirety of the conversation instantly. "And I am well aware of what it is."

Tessa placed her hand upon the large cherry desk that she used to associate with her father, "And you can sit there, and tell me that it is more important for you to attend a pointless Auror ceremony versus what will probably be the last time you get to attend your grandson's birthday!"

The portraits unabashedly stared at the both the Headmistress and her daughter, mouths agape and wide-eyed.

Tessa continued on, "What, no pithy rebuttal about how important Hogwarts is…"

Minerva stood, the scraping chair stopping Tessa's tirade and she suddenly felt…like a child staring up at her mother after she had just done what she was told not to. Minerva's jaw flexed her irises practically black as they reflected off her glasses. "This is going to get _much _harder Tessa and I will _not_ debate it."

"How can you place Hogwarts before your family?" Tessa's soft voice barely reaching her mother's ears.

"Tessa, perhaps it is better you leave." Albus stated, as he felt his wife's ire burn through him…hot…molten, so controlled and yet wanting to be unleashed.

"Oh, father, I have no desire to hear you prattle on…"

Minerva's icy voice interjected, "I will be attending the Ministry function, and after, I will be by to see Cal."

Tessa shook her head, "Unbelievable…" She muttered, "Even after all that Hogwarts has taken, it still isn't enough."

"It is because of Hogwarts that I am alive, correct your facts." Tessa opened her mouth, but at seeing her mother's challenging gaze thought better of it. "Now, was there anything else?"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

"Unacceptable!" Kingsley roared.

"As is this farce of an assignment!" Harold countered, causing Gawain to flinch.

"Not only did she leave St. Mungos without your team knowing, but she arrived and was at Azkaban where she had absolutely no business being at."

"True," Gawain interjected, "She may not have had any business being there, but without her and her associate's assistance, we would be tracking a lot more escapees."

"The Unspeakable are supposedly the best there are," Kingsley continued on ignoring Gawain's statement. "And yet, they cannot track one simple witch."

"You know she is no ordinary witch, Kingsley." Harold refuted.

He scoffed, "A witch, none the less."

"One that has bested innumerable witches and wizards over the decades and eluded how many traps, in addition to marrying and having a family without the world being the wiser. She has been dubbed the most powerful witch of the age; and there is a reason for that." Gawain stated.

Harold eyed his compatriot, wondering how he knew that Minerva had been married. But, also knowing that now was not the time to ask. "She knows the system and how to evade detection, Kingsley as she helped to put many of our current systems in place following Grindlewald's demise."

"Thank you for the brief synopsis gentlemen, but that does not fix the problem at hand. And that is the ability of your 'Unspeakables' to track Minerva."

Harold's fist tightened, irritation beating in time with his pulse. He could feel _their bond_ jolt and his fury grow. "It is not a question of tracking." He ground out.

"Then what is it?"

"A question of ethics."

Kingsley's face reddened. "I have every right to defend this country…"

"Using just means." Gawain stated, drawing up beside Harold. "And your mission is neither…"

"If _your _men had been doing their job, Harold, they would have been at Azkaban and been able to assist…"

"Barring a threat to her life, they are ordered not to engage."

"Perhaps you are no longer the best person for the job, Harold." Kingsley stated, "As it seems that you are no longer able to differentiate between personal relationships and professional ones." He lifted brown eyes to Gawain, "And it seems as though you too have been corrupted."

"We have done our jobs, Minister." Harold took a step closer, the light glinting off his silver frames. "Can you say the same thing?"

"Then track Minerva."

"We are trying." He stated, "But, she is like the wind."

"Then track that, as I know you have the capability."

"She is slightly more difficult."

"Find a way." He breathed, pinning Harold with his gaze, "Or I will put you," He paused to glance at Gawain, "Both of you, into Azkaban and authorize a dementor's kiss on each of you for your negligence and obstruction to the wizarding world's safety."

"Don't make a threat you can't enforce, Kingsley." Harold stated and before the Minister could respond, he dissolved into nothingness taking Gawain with him.

"Damn 'Unspeakables.'"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Hermione turned around, surprised to see Arthur Oakes standing four feet away, shifting on his two feet, a shy smile upon his face as he met her gaze. "Can I help you Mr. Oakes?"

"I…" His head dropped a moment as he reached into his messenger bag, a hesitant smile curling his lips as he pulled a piece of linen that had a thin book wrapped beneath. "Have wanted to give you this." He extended his hand outward. "It's just…you…" His voice caught as his professor grasped the object. "I haven't had the opportunity."

Curiosity burned through Hermione as to what the young man was offering her, it felt too light to be a book…_perhaps a journal?_ She peeled back the cloth, and found her supposition to be accurate; a worn dark brown journal now rested in her hands. Gently she opened the cover, and her brows involuntarily quirked at the all too familiar handwriting, eyes immediately reading the elegantly penned script.

_Transfiguration _

_Thesis Journal No. 3 ~ Innate Characteristics_

_ M. c.1946_

_One of Minerva's thesis journals? How did he obtain a journal of her personal writings? Is this from her initial mastership apprentice?_ She glanced up, questions readily apparent upon her face as she stared at her student but they went unanswered as he immediately began rambling; thankfully mistaking her questioning gaze with his own insecurities.

"I…found this…and," He cleared his throat, "And as it was a transfiguration journal…"

_He didn't know whose journal this was, _Hermione realized as he stumbled onward.

"Thought you might like it…or…" His cheeks began turning a deep shade of pink, as were his ears.

A gentle smile graced Hermione face as she realized the exact reason behind his gift; "I sincerely appreciate the gesture, Mister Oakes." And under most circumstances, she would return the gift and send him on his way; however, as recent luck would have it, these weren't most circumstances. She wanted to read the journal now firmly ensconced within her grasp, and then there was the whole notion that Minerva was alive…and the journal, hers. "However," Her voice dropped, "The author of this journal is still alive, how did…obtain it?"

His face blanched, "I didn't…" He shook his head, "My great-grandfather recently passed and was a Master in Transfiguration and I was going through his things…and found it." He gulped, fear lacing his large eyes, as his mind processed his professor's words. "Whose…journal is that?"

"The Headmistresses." Hermione calmly replied, and Arthur went another two shades paler.

"As in…Professor McGonagall?" His tone equally as displaced as the paler in his face.

"It would seem." Hermione opened the cover and showed him the first page, "If you would instead like to return this to the proper owner…"

Arthur was already backing away, "I…would you mind, Professor? I'm running late…and…"

"And Mister Oakes." She called out, causing him to pause five feet from the door. "Graduate, become a master in Arthimancy, and if I'm available…then; perhaps dinner."

A lopsided grin came across his face, and he gave a nod. "Thank you, Professor." He rumbled before leaving the room.

Hermione cast a glance to the clock; another class would be entering any minute. Sighing, she walked back to her desk, flipping open the journal as she did.

_c. 1946 January 3__rd__. Despite objections, have begun an ancillary piece to my thesis. The primary aspects will remain; but this journal will be dedicated to the sole capture of information regarding animagi and the retention of innate characteristics._

_ Animagi have the ability to transfigure into an animal while maintaining the human thought process, higher reasoning skills and judgment. Whereas, when a person is transfigured into an animal, they become the animal and lose the ability to formulate thoughts, process and utilize higher reasoning skills. There have been several articles and texts, journals and a sundry of other testimonials confirming these facts. However, if a witch or wizard can transfigure themselves and become an animagus; not several different animals, rather one distinct animal throughout their life; would it not reason that the witch or wizard would benefit or perhaps in some cases be a detriment from the animal's characteristics? And would he/she not retain them while in their primary state? _

_ c. 1946 January 8__th__ Master Oakes has an official forth level mastership in transfiguration is a registered spider animagus and I discovered this evening an unregistered Beagle animagus. *Note to self* Masterships in fields of expertise go beyond four, but only within the field and never in an official capacity. Transfiguration mastery has six levels. There are less than five total worldwide who are beyond a four. Officially, two are fours and three are classified as mastery level three. There are several aspects required to achieve mastery at each level the large ones are as follows;_

_ Level 1 – apprenticeship and expertise in defined curriculum; no less than 3 years._

_ Level 2 – Inanimate and animate transfiguration_

_ Level 3 – Animagus; successful completion of 8 level 1 masters_

_ Level 4 – Two animagi; primary and secondary_

_ Level 5 –External and internal physical transformations**_

_ Level 6 – Base transformations**_

_ **Need more information; transformation? Versus transfiguration?_

_Master Oakes, through both animagi, seemed to have retained notable characteristics of both his spider and Beagle animagi while human. I have far more correlating information regarding the former as that animagus was known; but will begin to collect relevant data on the latter…_

The pattering of feet into her classroom, yanked Hermione's mind back to the here and now, and not the journal lying open in the palms of her hands…_wanting to be read._ With great reluctance and force of will, Hermione closed the journal and banished it to her rooms for later. Her mind already processing the information she had already read; the open frankness regarding Transfiguration and the levels of mastership. _Hadn't Minerva stated she was a level four master? Did that mean she had the ability to transfigure into a second animagus? If so, what was it? And…_

She smiled at young Miss Collins as she altered the writing on the board, her mind immediately returning back to her reading.

_Could the whole situation when Minerva transfigured herself into Lucius…be a transformation? And did that mean she was a fifth level master? Or even a sixth? And what are base transformations? Or the external and internal transformations? _

Hermione summoned the watches and with another flick; they immediately took resident upon each student's desk.

_And innate characteristics? Did she hypothesize and write a paper about what I saw last week; when her eyes seemed to take on the shape and color of cat's eyes? Do transfiguration master's and perhaps all animagi have the ability to call upon their animagi traits as a human? Is that what Minerva did?_

Hermione absently counted heads…_If so, what other characteristics can she draw upon?_

The bell rang, and Hermione forced a smile upon her face. "Good afternoon." _Perhaps I'll forgo dinner today, _she thought as she continued on, "Please turn to page 133 in your text. Today, we are going to begin learning a new form of transfiguration. Inanimate objects that move." She swept back to the chalk board, _Have Milksy bring something up from the kitchen and give me a few moments to read before working with Minerva this evening. _ "The most notable one is a clock…" The diagram shifted as she touched the board with her wand. "Now, can anyone tell me…"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

"What?" Percy flipped the sign over to indicate they were now closed, "You have a date or something?" He quipped, wondering why George was already reaching for his coat; as he _never _left early or even right after close.

George stilled his face as he turned to Percy, "Perhaps."

"Really?" Percy's face lighting up, "Who is she?"

George's face broke into a smile at his brother's supposition and the reality of the situation. "No one you would ever guess."

"Come on, do I know her?" Percy asked, stepping closer; curiosity burning through him.

George slipped on his long tailored cloak, adjusting the collar as he spoke. "Don't rightly know." He said, fingers nimbly buttoning up the front, "But…" He nodded to the register, "I'm going to assume you still remember how to close out the drawer."

"Not even a clue?"

George stepped around the counter, face serious. "No, not even one. See you tomorrow."

"Lucky dog," Percy muttered as the door closed on his brother, "How's he always get the girl?"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

"Are you even trying to follow her?" Gawain openly asked.

"Try is the operative word." Harold answered.

"I know we had a devil of time maintaining her whereabouts, but I thought you…had ways…"

He sighed, "We do, but Hogwarts wards make it difficult even under optimal circumstances."

"You mean…there are wards that you cannot penetrate?" His voice conveying his disbelief.

"Hogwarts happens to be one of the few." Harold cryptically admitted.

"Doesn't the Minister know…?"

"That despite being formed for almost a hundred years, the Department has yet to break through Hogwarts' warding structure?"

Gawain nodded, "Yes, in conjunction with…"

"The old pureblood families' estates."

"Blood wards."

"Yes."

"And what are you, or should I say, we going to do regarding Minerva and the Minister?"

Harold sighed, "You realize, that includes her family estate."

"The Manor." Gawain chuckled shaking his head, "Try…" He reiterated, "I don't think you could have chosen a more apt descriptor."

"Especially since she suspects." Harold obliquely stated.

"Damn, Harold." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Am I supposed to give up and resign?"

"No." Harold rumbled, "Or the Ministry loses."

"We are standing on the brink…"

"That we are, my friend."

"And how are we to remain alive and free long enough to assist Minerva while appeasing Kingsley?"

Harold reached down, pulling a bottle of port from his walnut cabinet. "I haven't the foggiest." He cracked the seal, "But, I hope that _this _might help present a solution or two."

"Then pass me a glass." Gawain muttered, "Or better yet, you keep the glass and give me the bottle."

Harold paused mid-pour; "I knew _this _would present solutions." He said, and wandlessly another bottle appeared in his hand. "Maybe not the solutions we were seeking," He handed the unopened bottle to Gawain, "But the night is young."

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"Again." Filius stated already raising his wand.

Hermione took a deep, rattling breath. "I appreciate what you are saying, however, I don't believe I'll have to defend against auto-charming objects."

"When you can best me in a duel; we'll talk about what you believe you will and will not see when battling someone."

Hermione twirled her wand, a smile lighting her eyes. "Then we will discuss that; momentarily."

Filius felt light-hearted, almost giddy at her enthusiasm and startling over-confidence. "Perhaps." He replied and both gave a low bow; and then their frenzied battle was off.

Albeit short-lived.

As Hermione stared, unblinking at the ceiling, bound in less than two minute.

"Hmmm." Filius fingered his mustache, "I seem to have misplaced my dueling partner…" He scanned the room, "Perhaps she has retired for the evening…" He slowly sauntered forward, "Or…" He stopped beside her, looking down into her stock-still face while amusement laced both his voice and features. "She may have tripped upon her own self-confidence." He arched his brow, "Any thoughts?" He questioned and then with a wave of his wand, he dissipated the spell.

"I'd go with the latter, myself." Hermione said, wincing as she rolled her shoulder while sitting up. "What spell was that?" She reached over, rubbing her left shoulder. "I didn't even see you cast it." She eyed him, mind flashing to Minerva's journal from earlier, and her note regarding mastery levels…and she couldn't help but wonder exactly where Filius fit into the mix of masterships…and charms. _Fifth level? Sixth?_ She involuntarily groaned as she stood, _And the rest of the staff? Pomona…? Marx? Sinistra?_ She knew most of the long tenured professors were a third degree master in their fields…

He arched his brows, "That is the point, is it not, Hermione?"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

With a deep breath, George raised his hand and knocked.

There was a poignant pause, before a muted response fluttered through the door. "It's open."

George turned the handle, and stepped in to the dimly lit home; eyes gazing about the room. "Rory?"

"Aye, I'll be just a moment."

Green eyes soaked in the space, the living room was about half again the size of his. The walls were painted a sage green, the décor was spartan; but George liked his taste. The few pieces of furniture he did have was large, ostentatious dark leather; two paintings of the Highlands hanging above the sofa and love seat.

"Sorry." Rory said while wiping his face, towel still in his hand. "It takes wee bit longer to shave."

At once, George turned towards Rory's voice; and felt his breath hitch as the Highlander stepped into the room. His shirt was only clasped in the middle, the rest of the shirt hanging open. "No problem." He cleared his throat as he pulled his eyes up to smiling grey ones. "How are you feeling?"

"Not as good as I would like." Rory quipped.

George's face flushed at the meaning behind Rory's words. "And I thought you liked to move slow?"

Rory glanced backwards, throwing the towel back into his room. "Aye," He turned back, grey eyes raking up George's lithe form. "I do."

George swallowed, "I thought…" He took a step backwards, feeling flushed and discomforted at the same time. "Maybe…" His fingers wrapping around the cool metal handle.

Rory covered the distance in a flash, stopping George's movement as he placed the palm of his hand upon the edge of the door. "I didna wish to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I…" George fought down his own apprehension, and openly and honestly answered. "This is not something, I…typically do."

Grey eyes scanned across green ones, sincerity lining the former. "Nor I."

"Ever…" George mildly shocked that he had uttered the word.

Rory leaned a hair's breathe closer; he could smell a hint of clove. "Ever?" He rumbled, peering into the younger man's face.

Green eyes dropped, ashamed. "I…" He went to turn the handle, "Think it's best if I leave."

"There is nothing ta be ashamed of George." He reached out, lifting George's chin. His side pulling as he did. "Quite the opposite."

"Rory…I…" He felt his breath hitch as another wave of musky earth swept over him. "Don't…"

Grey eyes flashed downwards as he shifted his wrist to enable his thumb to graze across his pink lips; causing George's eyes to flutter close. "We'll go slow…" Rory rumbled as haze filled eyes flickered open.

"I…just may need some time." George whispered, feeling oddly at ease with the man. "To…adjust."

Rory leaned in, gently touching supple lips against his own in the briefest of kisses. "I'll wait." He breathed, "And no," He continued on before George could interrupt, "It is of no burden rather…an honor." His gravelly voice raked.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stave off the oppressive headache behind her eyes.

"You need to rest, Minerva." Snape gently stated, a round of assents passing among the portraits.

"I will shortly." She replied, not bothering to cast a glance over her shoulder.

"Very well." He kindly replied.

And she adjusted her glasses, grimacing as she adjusted her posture. "Though, I believe next time I speak with the Governors I will ask them to cease the weekly report schedule."

"I tried for years…" Albus began.

"Until I started doing them." She quipped, "And now I am still doing them."

"Probably with the same efficiency too."

"Go back to sleep you…" The rest of her sentence trailed off as she felt the Gargoyle activate. At once, she cast a glance to the clock, her daily reminder of how well she was doing. _Just before nine, _it was probably Marx as she had spoken with him at length on Sunday evening regarding the curriculum and adequate, albeit safe ways to practice some of the more challenging defensive spells for the older years.

She absently reached out and pulled her eagle quill from the pot, mind already formulating on how to best assist him in accomplishing his latest curriculum ideas without stoutly overruling the latest 'Ministry protocols'.

The door opened, and she glanced up expecting to see her albino professor and found herself momentarily at a loss as to the appearance of her Transfiguration professor; Hermione Granger.

"Good evening." She stated, oblivious to the fact that Minerva had momentarily been staring at her. "I was hoping you had a moment…" She cleared her throat, trying to dispel her momentary discomfort. "Or even enough time for a game of chess."

"If you will permit me a few moments to finish this, a game of chess would be a most welcome diversion."

Hermione absently nodded, "Where is your board?" She asked gazing about.

Minerva finished her line, "The walnut case, third shelf from the top, by the…"

"Got it." Hermione pulled the case from the shelf. "And how are you feeling?"

Minerva vaguely noticed the large blot of ink upon the parchment as she paused mid-stroke. "Better, thank you. And yourself?" She waved her hand over the spot, the ink vanishing as she yanked her full attention back up the letter.

"Other than my bruised ego from your deputy, I am doing quite well."

"Bruised ego?" Minerva asked, curious despite her best intentions, glancing upwards.

Hermione stopped mid-stride, Minerva's question causing a self deprecating chuckle to pull from lips. "It would seem that my self-confidence was tripping over itself and not letting me see past my own foibles."

"And Filius corrected your perception?" She queried, brow arched.

"Quite." Hermione met her emerald gaze, "With…surprising adeptness."

Minerva chuckled as she lowered her head and finished scratching another two lines, "He is an exceptionally skilled wizard, though most people have difficulties seeing past his height."

"I wouldn't have thought that was the problem…" Hermione quipped as she opened the board onto the table, relishing how Minerva's chuckle rumbled deeper within chest.

"That's the precise reason it becomes one." With blind efficiency she signed her name, before replacing the quill. "At least to most." She stood, feeling her hip pull as she transfigured her wand, voice still alight with laughter. "And from your look, I doubt that was the cause of your…self confidence."

Hermione paused, turning to watch as Minerva strode over to the table, her limp prevalently noticeable. "I've always known that Filius was adept in his field, but…" She hesitated upon recalling the events from not even two hours ago, though her muscles were already becoming stiff from the intense workout with her Deputy. "I never realized how _good _…correction…" She said fixing her gaze upon Minerva again as she stopped opposite of her. "Excellent of a wizard he is." She absently shook her head, "And he's dangerously quick."

"Knowledgeable, creative, and quick…" Minerva eased herself into the sofa, "Made for a lethal combination when he used to duel professionally."

"How many titles did he win?" Hermione began placing the white pawns up, Minerva the black royalty.

"I never asked, though, by the time he ceased competitive competition, there were few people who would wager against him."

"Even you or…" Hermione forced Dumbledore's namesake from her throat. "Albus?"

Minerva cast a gentle smile, recognizing the pause immediately for what it was; Hermione trying to accommodate her wishes regarding Albus' name. "Neither one of us professionally competed."

"Come now, you're telling me, that you have never dueled against Filius?"

"I never said that, dear." She placed the last pawn upon the board, "And as you have white…"

There was no lingering movement, Hermione already moving one of her pawns. "And when you did duel, did you wager?"

"Of course." Minerva replied matching Hermione's speed in move with her own. "To keep the duel realistic, there was always an incentive."

"Like…" Hermione moved the pawn along the right edge of the board forward two squares. "What, exactly?

"From galleons to…" A long forgotten memory fluttered across her mind, causing a shade of pink to color her cheeks, "To saving face from embarrassing situations." She moved another one of her pawns in return. "I'll merely state that strip dueling can inspire rather…" Her eyes sparkled and lips curled into an impish smile as she finished. "Innovative magic."

"Strip dueling?" Hermione felt her own cheeks redden at the notion, "As in…articles of clothing?"

A flash of heat swept through Minerva as she stilled the cadence of her voice, her mind briefly straying to what it would be like to challenge Hermione in a duel, a strip one. "Quite." And at Hermione's shocked face, she continued on, her voice mechanically slipping into that of the 'professor'. "Both participants ensure equal number articles of clothing, and instead of a single duel; each body bind, hex or curse that you are struck with automatically will remove one item."

"And you played this…why?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.

"Incentive, dear." Minerva candidly answered, "When you've been dueling for decades, and you know the person you are dueling against and have for years, you create interesting…ways…to challenge the other; otherwise, it becomes an exercise in futility."

Hermione pondered Minerva's statement for a moment while setting another pawn loose upon the board. "Did you ever, lose?"

Minerva quirked her brow at Hermione, who was unconsciously chewing on the inside corner of her mouth while waiting for an answer. "Not nearly as often as others would have liked."

Hermione shifted her gaze to Dumbledore, "And you…" Hermione cleared her throat, "Did you ever play…?"

"Upon occasion." He cryptically answered, before lifting his eyes to his wife to share a poignant look. "It does give one…ample incentive, not to lose."

Shaking her head, she returned her attention to the game, noticing that Minerva had already moved a pawn in response. "I can't imagine." She muttered, "Playing against…Harry…in that fashion." She reached out, moving another pawn.

Minerva unleashed her knight, "I believed you would feel ample motivation not to lose to Harry."

"And then some." Brown eyes scanning the board, "I'll have to keep that _style _of dueling in mind if we ever become complacent."

Minerva felt the subtle rumble of a purr in her throat at the notion of Hermione being afforded the opportunity to become complacent, and with a quiet clearing of her throat, stopped the faint noise before it truly started. "I doubt either you or Harry shall ever become that complacent."

Hermione paused, hand upon her bishop. "And from the little bit I know of you…I would never believe that you would permit yourself to become complacent."

"Children and decades of peace afford the opportunity for one to change." Minerva's eyes drawn to the board as Hermione moved her bishop to the opposing side.

"I don't believe you changed that much." Hermione leaned back, eyes remaining riveted upon Minerva's face.

"Change can come in many forms, Hermione." She obliquely replied while moving another pawn.

Hermione's eyes scanned the board, feeling mildly confident that she would be able to capture two of Minerva's pawns over the course of the next four moves. "Am I to deduce that your reticence regarding your personal life is a change?"

"From childhood; quite." Minerva's face remained impassive as Hermione shifted her knight onto the board and slid her knight forward in response.

"Speaking of reticence…" Hermione brought her second knight into play, pinning one of Minerva's pawns. "I would like to offer my sincerest apology."

Minerva stilled her hand, glancing up, brow arched. "For taking my pawn?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile, "No."

"Good." Minerva's hand fell to the board, "Otherwise I may be forced to apologize for taking your bishop…" She moved her second knight forward, "Or your pawn and knight."

Hermione's eyes immediately scanned the pieces, jaw slackening. _When did Minerva…? Her pieces…were not in as positive of a position as she had believed._ Sighing, she made a decision and sacrificed the bishop and took one of Minerva's pawns; but that would prevent the loss of her knight. "Nice move."

"Thank you." Minerva stated as her knight fielded Hermione's bishop.

"But, I do owe you an apology, several actually…" Her voice becoming laden with emotion. "Regarding my perception of…" She waited a hair's breathe of a moment until Minerva's gaze had met her own. "Your trust."

"Hermione…"

She shook her head, interrupting. "No, please…let me finish, Minerva." A tearful smile shined against her eyes. "I had the opportunity this past weekend and week to reflect upon my actions, and I am sorry that I have uttered and implied my doubts regarding your trust in me; when in fact, you have shown nothing but trust. It is…" She cleared her throat, "Difficult for me to know so much and yet so little about...a friend. To have been asked to help, and at times to curb my own innate curiosity when that friend does not wish to divulge what is obviously a very personal aspect of themselves. And I am sure, that it has been challenging for you to open up and share what you have; especially given your propensity to privacy. So…I just want to say, I am sorry for last week; and all the times before when I ever questioned your trust…or your faith in me. And I want you to know," Her heart caught at the tears reflected in Minerva's eyes as she quietly finished. "That I'll never question it again."

Minerva dropped her head away for a moment, to blink back her tears as she replied; her voice giving off the semblance of normalcy. "I would never ask that…" She lifted her head again, "You curb your innate curiosity nor your questioning nature, Hermione. They are an integral part of you. Regarding your trust and faith in a person; you have been wise in not committing it blindly nor wholly and you should continue to hold to that notion." A sad smile crossed her lips. "Even for me."

"But Minerva…"

"I cannot take something and be entrusted to it; if I cannot wholly reciprocate it." She quietly replied, "And I cannot."

"But you do trust me." Hermione breathed, "I see it in your eyes. And if you didn't, there are so many things you wouldn't have shown me; including…the ability to see _you_, for who you are and not who the world perceives you to be."

Minerva met Hermione's intense gaze for another minute before finally closing her eyes to ease the ache and burden swelling in her soul. Hermione's eyes had held such sincerity, conviction…passion and openness in wanting to convey her belief regarding how much she trusted Minerva…that it was too much…especially knowing that one day Hermione would live with the outcome to the dismal tale that had become Minerva's life. And while Hermione will have been spared the horrifying details; her death would undoubtedly breach their trust. A trust given so readily…and openly…and Merlin forbid that the depths of her tale be learned…she was sure that Hermione would never trust another person, again. With a heavy sigh and an equally heavy heart, she opened her eyes to find Hermione's brown eyes still leveled upon her own. "Heed my words, Hermione." Her brogue thick, "And remember them, for a time will come when you will again very much doubt my trust in you."

Hermione began to shake her head, "No, I will…" But Minerva held up her hand, her regal features becoming somehow more refined as if to exemplify the seriousness of her words.

"Listen, Hermione." She stated, her cadence unearthly low, as if rumbling across the highlands while the percussion had been muted by water from the lakes. "You are right in that I _do _trust you. Very much. However, my oath to my family and Albus shall always come first."

"I would never ask that you trust me more than your family, nor I that of you…" Hermione interjected. "Unless you willingly are going to place my family into danger."

"You have my word that has never been, nor will it ever be the case, dear." Minerva replied with ease.

"Then I don't foresee a problem, Minerva." Hermione candidly stated while waiting for Minerva's response. And slowly, almost reverently, she nodded and Hermione felt a bubble of relief swell up through her chest. "Now…" She shifted her attention back to the board, "Where were we…" She moved her pawn, "Ahhh…yes…" She smirked as she recalled, "You just bested my bishop."

"And you have stolen one of my pawns."

"I believe they are not quite equitable." Hermione slid another pawn forward.

"To each their own." Minerva forced her mind back to the game at hand and not their previous conversation…or the way Hermione's brown eyes had seemingly pleaded with her to understand and accept her trust.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, the portraits watching and quietly commenting on the tacit moves as the fire crackled in the background.

"It would seem that you were correct, by the way."

"Ohh?" Minerva moved her pawn in front of her rook forward before glancing up, brow arched in question as she again pushed aside the previous conversation.

"Regarding Mister Oakes." Hermione reached into her robes, pulling the worn journal from its depths. "As he stopped this afternoon to give me this." She handed it outwards, Minerva frowning as she took the object.

"Surely you didn't keep it." Minerva replied, hoping that Hermione knew better than to give young courtiers credence.

"I wouldn't have, except…" She waited a moment, to ensure Minerva's eyes found hers again. "That it's yours."

"Mine?" Minerva opened the cover at once, and felt her posture immediately alter at what was contained within; even though she had penned the text over sixty years prior.

"He didn't know it when giving it to me this afternoon, only that it dealt with transfiguration and that I may find it interesting."

"And…?" Minerva forced her reeling mind to remain focused, feeling a measure of relief in the knowledge that it would have been near impossible for Hermione to have read the journal in its entirety based upon her class schedule, she had been at dinner and her practice with Filius. However, it was Hermione, and she was a phenomenally fast reader…

"I believe he was accurate in that I would have been interested." She stated, eyeing Minerva. "As I did read the first page…and…there are some fascinating concepts that I would love to have the opportunity to garner additional information from."

Minerva resisted the urge to flip the page; instead she closed the leather cover. "It has been some time since I wrote this, and many things have changed; what did you find so fascinating?"

Hermione tried to keep a coy smile from crossing her face at Minerva's subtle dodge. "Innate characteristics regarding animagus has very little published information and no factual testimonials; and as you started a thesis on the topic, I am guessing there is at least a minor crossover, however, it begs the questions as to why your findings positive or negative was never published."

Minerva's finger idly ran along the worn edge of the leather as she contemplated Hermione's question. A question that had been long asked, and quietly and rarely answered. "Do you desire to pursue a mastership in transfiguration?"

"I have pondered it." She sat fully upright, taking in Minerva's erect posture, stiff features and decided to go all in regarding what she had read in her journal. "But I do not like to do things in half measure; how long did it take you to obtain the level of mastership?"

"I apprenticed with Anon Oakes for three years before passing the tests."

"And to achieve level 6 mastery?"

For the second time in a day, the portraits were brought to the brink of speechlessness and even Albus starred unabashedly at Hermione.

Minerva, however, responded in a heartbeat as though she discussed this daily. "It is not something that is openly discussed. Especially to one not in the field."

"Then you are a sixth level master." Hermione whispered more to herself than aloud, drawing a mild look of exasperation upon Minerva's face.

"Rather a forth level, dear."

_On paper, _Hermione thought to herself and opted to pursue the truth through other means. "What is the difference between transfiguration and transformation?"

_How I wish Anon had followed through with his promise and burned the blasted journal, _Minerva thought cursing her own youthful curiosity. "You know that an object can be transfigured but it is never truly transformed and upon casting a reversing spell; a skilled person in transfiguration can reverse the original transfiguration."

"That's because transfiguration takes place by forcing the structure to transfigure into something else; the base molecular structure remains true to its original form." She tilted her head to the side, "But that's precisely what your journal meant by internal, external, and base transformations; isn't it?" She asked leaning forward, eyes thinning as her mind churned through the endless possibilities. "That the ability exists to transform the base molecules and truly transfigure an object on a permanent basis."

Their game had just moved off the board and Minerva suddenly felt as though Filius was in the room as she carefully responded. "A few papers have been written postulating the theory, but there has been no documented success."

"And you?" Hermione queried, "The whole episode not even two weeks ago when you transfigured into Lucius…" She began shaking her head, "You didn't transfigure, because…_that's _impossible, but you transformed." She felt as though her world had again been irrevocably altered as her startling intellect continued pushing the confines of what was deemed, 'possible.' "A requirement of a fourth level mastership…" She chuckled, "At least on paper, as transfiguration has expanded as have other fields beyond their previous limits."

Inwardly Minerva summoned Elgin, wishing for something stronger than tea, but knowing that her core temperature while stable was still…precariously close to again becoming unstable; and large consumption of alcohol was unwise for the very near future.

Elgin blinked up at Minerva, "You'se summoned?"

Hermione frowned at his comment; she had not heard Minerva call for Elgin.

"Some tea would be lovely." Minerva replied.

"And you'se?" He turned to Hermione who quickly concealed her confusion.

"Tea will be fine."

And Elgin gave a nod and was gone in a flash.

"There will never be papers published regarding exceptionally advanced transfiguration for public consumption."

"But they are published." She stated rhetorically.

"Yes," Minerva said reaching outward to take the tea pot that appeared just as she reached for it and with practiced ease, poured two cups.

"How do you know when something is published and then the delivery aspect and to who?" Hermione questioned while taking the saucer with her cup of tea.

Minerva wandlessly summoned a journal that flew from a cabinet from her bookshelf; and landed within her left hand while she took a sip of tea. "We distribute our papers and research just like everyone else."

Hermione frowned at the title; Transfiguration Today, she read the monthly journal, religiously. In all the years she had read the journal, not once had she read an article regarding transformation. "I've read…" She tilted her head to the journal, "That one." A frown creasing across her lips. "There wasn't anything…overtly advanced."

Minerva took a second sip of the warm liquid, before returning the cup to the saucer; fingers already flipping through the pages. "That is because," She stopped and drew out her wand on a page and with a muted spell, the words began to alter and slide around the page. "You are not supposed to." Minerva set her wand down, scanning the article for a moment before taking the binding of the journal within her hand and offering it to Hermione.

Hermione took the journal, eyes scanning the across the page – mildly flabbergasted. She had read this journal at least a half dozen times. It had several interesting articles regarding the processes for inanimate transfiguration, and she had even used some of the published research for her classes over the past 2 months. However, not once had she seen the article now greeting her eyes. _Transformation – The Edge of Madness_ _– Tom Willowbrook. _ "This wasn't here." She breathed, recalling their conversation from the end of August regarding whether Minerva had read Willowbrook's article.

"It was." Minerva stated, "And the article delineates the reality of how dangerous transformation is."

"How…?" Hermione pulled her gaze back to Minerva. "Did you…is this possible? This article…was it written in or a part of his article published for everyone? As I remember talking to you about the article her wrote and published in this month…"

"Magic, dear." Minerva nodded to the journal. "Various levels of mastership enable one to see more and more of the journal."

"How many levels are there?"

"Officially, four." Minerva stated as her fingers curled around the white porcelain. "However, my notes remain accurate."

"And unofficially, you and how many others are a level six master?"

"Five worldwide. Another one resides in Europe, one in Africa, one in South America and the fifth lives in Canada."

"But…there are only two recorded forth level masters."

"Yes, well…" Minerva's mouth quirked, "There are eight forth level master and another three fifth level masters. Most though remain at a level three officially or even a two so as to not register their abilities as an animagus."

"And do you or someone track a master's animagus?"

"We maintain a listing, but at a level five and six; it becomes moot."

"Because they have the ability to transfigure, rather transform into many animals or persons."

"The ability exists, however, there also is a far greater risk when transforming into an animal or person; as you may transform so completely that you become that which you transformed in to."

"Has that happened?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.

"You may take that article and read it." Minerva stated, glancing to the journal ensconced within Hermione's fingers, "But do not close the journal until you are done as it will reset the encryption. The article speaks of a colleague testing transformations over the past two years that has gone missing, for lack of a better word."

"Missing as in…unable to transform?"

"And as he transformed and did not transfigure; we have no way of knowing what he transformed in to, nor have the ability to reverse the spell because his base cell structure has become whatever he sought to transform into."

"So he's…dead?"

"The wizard he once was, is."

"And…have you ever transformed?"

Minerva nodded, "On a few occasions throughout the years; and when becoming an animal it is quite difficult to revert back to your human state."

"Then why transform and not merely transfigure into your animagus?"

"I am a registered animagus, and at times, it has been beneficial to be something other than a cat."

"But, in the journal it stated something about the ability to transfigure into a second animagus?"

Albus felt his breath hitch at Hermione's question, and he along with the other portraits awaited her response.

Minerva remained unmoving; debating. She was in a precarious position at best. Few persons outside of a level four master even knew the ability existed; and those that did tended to be in the field and obtaining a level two or three mastership or the person was married to a master in the field. To divulge one's second animagus to someone outside a level six master was rarely done; and she had been reluctant to even inform Albus. She had accomplished the feat just before they were bound and it had been an extremely personal and difficult for her to achieve the second transfiguration. And despite her love for him; her animagus was anything but reflective of their life together as she searched her soul to find another creature to transfigure into…

Hermione sensed Minerva's hesitation, and worriedly spoke. "If you are uncomfortable, please don't answer, I did not mean…"

"A wolf." Minerva stated quietly drawing a shocked gaze from Hermione, and a soft smile from her own lips. "Do not look so surprised."

"It's just…" Hermione laid the book down, ensuring to keep the page open as she stared at Minerva. "That is so different from the personality of a cat; I would never have suspected you to have chosen a canine."

"It isn't about choice, Hermione. It's about an animal or creature finding and choosing you."

"A wolf…" Hermione muttered to herself, "Fiercely devoted and protective, intelligent, ability to work in packs or alone…" She nodded, "I can see the similarities and they are oddly divergent and yet connected to your cat animagus. Is it difficult to transfigure yourself into your second animagus?"

"It requires far more thought and energy as I have not spent near the amount of time as a wolf versus a cat."

"Could you…" Hermione felt odd asking, but her curiosity was intense. "Perhaps once transfigure into your wolf animagus?"

"There is that possibility." Minerva indirectly answered.

"And do your children know?"

Her chiseled jaw flexed, "No. And other than Albus and Rory, no one else knows."

"Not even Helena?"

"She is a master healer and thus aware of all levels regarding mastery in every field; so she knows of various persons and abilities that witches and wizards can possess."

"So she is aware, but does not know what it is."

"That would be fairly accurate."

"Are there many high level master healers?"

"It is fairly proportionate across disciplines."

"And do you know who the other masters are in the different fields?"

"Some, but primarily the more decorated ones."

"Persons like yourself, who excel in the field and everyone knows that you are exceptionally adept?"

"In a manner." Minerva stated, "Though, Voldemort's terror greatly depleted the number of high level masters across Europe and western Asia."

"And how does all this tie into an animagus' innate characteristics?"

A jolt passed through Minerva, hot…burning…and deep.

"Minerva?" Hermione was already moving to get up at the look of discomfort that spread across her features.

"Mistress." Bonnie stated appearing beside Minerva, "A man is requesting entrance at the Manor."

"His name?" Minerva inquired as Hermione stared at her worried.

Bonnie extended her hand outward, a small piece of parchment sticking out from her weathered fingers. "He asked that I give you this."

Minerva took the paper, and easily opened it. Eyes furloughing at message;

_I need to speak with you._

_ Lucius_

At once she stood, "Let him in, immediately." She directed to Bonnie as the paper burst into flames. "He cannot be seen."

Bonnie gave a nod and at once vanished, leaving the two women alone again.

"I am afraid that I need to leave, Hermione. If you would be kind enough to see yourself out."

"Do you need assistance?" Hermione asked, moderately concerned by Minerva's reaction.

"I shall be fine," Minerva replied, "However, I thank you for the offer." She turned, walking stick already in her hand when she felt a gentle but staying force upon her shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Hermione's voice soft, as her gaze met Minerva's as she turned back around. "After everything this past week…"

"I assure you I shall be fine, but if it is something that requires my immediate attention." Minerva answered, "And if I have need to go anywhere else this evening, I shall send word."

Hermione's hand dropped away, "Thank you."

Minerva gave a hint of a nod and forced her gaze away, mind churning through the possible reasons as to why Lucius would seek an audience with her and risk an open meeting as she stepped to the grate; hand dipping into the floo powder, and she drew back her hand to snap the green powder into the flames; but stopped and turned back to Hermione who was standing across the room…staring at her.

Worry and concern etched openly upon her face…as the soft candle light glowed around her and she felt her breath hitch and found the words she was about to utter…strangled. They came out, in a cadence far from normal…her brogue more prevalent…

"You may read the journal Mister Oakes so kindly returned; I believe it will begin to answer your last question. Though, I ask you to return it once done and not to openly discuss its contents with others."

And she forced her attention back to far more troublesome notions; robe swirling about her as she turned back to the grate and at once snapped her wrist and was stepping into the fire as the first vestiges of green laced the flames.

* * *

xoxox

* * *

Lucius' attention was immediately drawn to the flames as they erupted in the grate and before he could blink, Minerva was standing at the opposite end of the den. Her face poised, but concerned as the soot vanished from the robes. "We don't have much time." She was already placing her hand within the floo powder, "The Unspeakables will know I have left Hogwarts."

"Won't they be able to track where you have gone to from here?"

"Of course." Minerva said, as he drew beside her. "But we'll simultaneously floo hop across several fireplaces and talk as we go."

Concern flashed across his face, "How many grates do you have access to that we will remain innocuous."

"Hopefully, enough." She replied, "Now, what is so urgent?"

"Aegis would like a meeting." He stated without preamble and Minerva felt her world stop.

_A meeting? With her…?_ She vaguely noticed the Lucius' face intently peering at her own as she fought the oppressive weight building in her chest while trying to remain lucid and not let her deep seated rage with Aegis ignite. "Surely, you jest." She said, barely trusting her voice to say more.

"He said you would be reluctant." Lucius adjusted his walking stick within his hand as Minerva arched her brow; piercing him with her unnerving emerald eyes.

"Reluctant?" Her burr crackling in time with the fire, "I would be more apt to invite Johannes over for tea." She snapped her hand and the flames turned green and she placed her hand upon Lucius' arm.

He felt her fingers upon his forearm and then the flames licking against his skin. He hadn't heard where they were going, nor did he know how they were both traveling through the floo network at the same time; but they obviously had. They were standing in the middle of a large black, musty room. He knew better than to ask where they were, as he was sure Minerva would not share, but…how he wished to learn where some of her _other _homes or properties were. "He seeks a meeting held in truce regarding Johannes and Hogwarts."

It took every ounce of self control to remain unmoving, "You'll need to convince me, Lucius as to why I should meet him alone and not schedule a meeting and bring the Ministry along."

"If you agree to the meeting, it'll be my reputation too."

Minerva's jaw tightened, "Do you know why he wishes to meet?" She reached out, grabbing powder from Aberforth's mantle and before he could answer, they were swirling through the floo network.

Lucius felt his back jerk as they came to a jilting stop. "Hogwarts' preservation."

"Helena?" Came a deep voice from the den and Minerva snapped another dusting of powder into the grate.

"I'm afraid not, Harold." Minerva replied before again swirling through the network. "Why is he seeking to help now?"

"He does not wish to see Hogwarts destroyed."

Minerva's lips thinned, "Nor I."

"He stated as such."

Minerva was stepping into the green flames, "Why come to me?"

"I don't know." Lucius honestly stated, idly noticing they were now standing in Kingsley's office?

"He knows I wish him dead."

The lights came on…and Lucius couldn't help the smile cross his face as he heard the door to Kingsley's outer office open and they stepped through the grate again.

"I don't think my back will ever be the same." He commented.

"An unexpected visit causes innovation."

And they hopped again.

"I've never heard of duel floo jumps or how you are accessing closed networks."

And again.

"I doubt I'll be able to do this again for some time."

And again as a rich chuckle joined the flames.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

"Are you sure?" Harold asked staring down at the piece of parchment, his adrenaline overshadowing the effects from the port he already had ingested.

"She has been to over a dozen networks."

Gawain stood up, "Who?"

"Minerva." Harold handed the hastily scribbled report to Gawain before turning back to Stuart. "And now?"

"We're still tracking her."

Gawain gulped at seeing Kingsley's office on the listing…and then he saw Harold's network listed. "That was Minerva less than ten minutes ago?"

"I thought she was here to see Helena." Harold murmured, now wishing he had followed through upon hearing her voice. "Do you know where she is going?"

Stuart frowned, "There is no detectable pattern, nor reason as to why she has gone where she has."

"Stay with her."

Stuart needed no farther prompting and was gone in a whirl of smoke. Gawain and Harold shared a look, both men putting their respective corks into their bottles; their afternoon and evening frivolity over as they had to return to work.

Immediately.

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"I cannot meet him, Lucius."

Again.

"He wanted you to know that he still hears the faint strands of music by his Highland lover."

The flames obscured the sudden burst of tears in her eyes, and instead of stepping out at the next site; she set the network off and went to the following one. Her heart ceasing at Lucius' phrase. Words she had expected to hear decades ago, but never had. And now…the phrase, once whispered as a pledge between parting lovers had now been invoked.

_ How could she say yes and again put her own desires and past second to that of others?_ She could not keep the tears from falling as she met Lucius' blue eyes, "I'll meet him."

Surprise crossed his normally emotionless face at both her emotional reaction and sudden acquiescence to meeting with Aegis.

She continued on, voice deeply laced with emotion, "A week from today; 8pm."

Again…

"Only him."

"He asked that I attend too."

"And if he and I duel, you will need to fight me."

"Minerva…"

Again…

"I will send word as to where." Her broken voice, curt. "And at the next stop, we shall part ways."

"The meeting will be held in truce."

"I will be ready either way." She said fiercely. "You should too."

"I won't fight you."

She nodded, "You may have too." She flung her hand, the flames jumping to life.

"You'll be able to apparate from Matilda's residence as the warding structure has long since been eliminated; and you'll forgive me if I don't dawdle."

"Till Tuesday." He said as dust swelled around his robes and before he could another word, Minerva was gone again. He stared for but a moment into the now blackened fireplace, wondering the precise nature of Aegis and Minerva's prior relationship. Their apparent association had seemingly run far deeper than a simple passing friendship.

With a loud crack, the soot and powder upon his robes flittered into the vacant air as he apparated home. His mind churning upon both Aegis and Minerva; his admiration for the latter continuing to grow at her overwhelming resourcefulness.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Helena tiredly opened the door, to a flurry of activity. She had known something had happened just over a half hour ago; but to be in her home… "Harold?" She closed the door while opening her cloak.

"Sorry, we're leaving." Harold's voice ringing down the hall.

"We're?" She felt his irritation, his fatigue, and…her face flushed and her own pulse jumped as Harold stepped into the hall.

Blue eyes devouring his wife's body. "I didn't know you…" His voice dropping, "You had a social event on your calendar this evening." His hands molding along her waist.

"Who's here?" She whispered, breathlessly against his neck.

"Gawain…" Came his husky response as he met his wife's luscious lips.

"Harold, we need to leave." Gawain said stepping into the hallway and abruptly stopped at seeing Harold and Helena's passionate embrace. His fingers entwined through her blond hair…and then as one both stepped or more aptly tore themselves away from the other, their blue eyes burning with passion.

"And to what…" Helena cleared her throat as she turned to Gawain. "Emergency are you both off to?"

"Someone has been hop scotching across most of England's floo network." Gawain stated.

"And…this requires both of you, why?" She asked trying to control the burning desire that was threatening to drown out conscious thought. "Why isn't Veronica handling it?"

"We'll be coordinating with her." Harold replied.

And then it clicked, causing Helena to sigh and turn away. They were talking about Minerva. "Any idea how…the person was able to activate so many floo networks?"

"We're researching it." Gawain obliquely replied.

"And I'm guessing you'll be gone for a while?" She asked pulling her cloak back off the rack as she cast a glance over her shoulder.

"I probably won't be home for several hours."

She slipped the woolen fabric on, "Then I think I'll stop by and visit Minerva." Her face remained stoic Harold's brow quirked and Gawain's face blanched. "I didn't have the opportunity earlier today and her core temperature is still lower than I would like."

"Please give my best." Harold dryly stated.

"Always, love." She flipped her hair out from behind her collar, "Gawain."

"Pleasure as always, Helena." Gawain turned to Harold as Helena shared a long look with her husband before closing the door behind her. "I still don't know how the two of you have managed to live with each other for as long as you have and your marriage to have survived; especially since your lives are so completely opposite."

"I've always liked mysteries…"

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Tears slipped off high cheekbones, dissolving before they fell from her jaw…the green flames danced against her robes as gate after gate flew by, faster…and faster. Her body finishing the motions she had begun; gate hopping to baffle the Ministry and ensure Lucius would not be followed.

Her strength…slipping away…as the tears came down; unbidden.

Her distant past colliding with what was left of her children's future.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

The iron gate creaked open, Helena stepping through, her warm breath misting in the faint moonlight while the snow crunched beneath her boots as she began trekking towards Hogwarts' entrance. Blue hawk like eyes narrowed, taking in the whole of the castle before zeroing in upon the eastern turret and the light shinning from Minerva's windows.

_She's already back, _Helena thought smiling at Minerva's antics and already anticipating her story as her long strides making short work of the somewhat lengthy pass. In route she was reminded of how humbling it was to have to walk up to Hogwarts to see…the Headmistress, her friend…and definitive icon who in her own way, mirrored the aged castle that had long since become her home as most times of late, she merely flooed over.

Helena paused in front of the great oak doors, raising her wand hand and at once the door sprung open recognizing her magical signature. Her gaze snapped up to the roving staircases, and with practiced ease, she ascended the worn stone steps. She turned down the corridor and paused at seeing someone…immediately realizing it was Hermione stepping from Gargoyle staircase. A smile lacing both her voice and face, "Good evening, Hermione."

Startled by the swish of robes and familiar cadence, Hermione turned to see Helena Harrison only meters away. "And to you, Helena." She noticed the thick cloak and the melting snow along the hemline, "Do you by chance know what is wrong with the floo?" She carefully placed her fingers to maintain the Transfiguration article, while mostly closing the journal.

"Wrong?" Helena frowned while inquiring.

"I figured as you came through the main entrance…and with what's been happening in Minerva's office…"

"What did Minerva say?" She went to move towards the Gargoyle to activate the roving staircase.

"She left almost thirty minutes ago."

The Gargoyle remained impassive, and unmoving. "Then she hasn't returned?"

"No." Hermione stared openly at Helena, disbelieving that Minerva had had time to inform Helena and was reluctant to divulge it to her. "Do you know who she was meeting with?"

"Meeting?" Helena murmured, "That's why." She said more to herself than to Hermione.

"Why?" Hermione prompted.

Helena's eyes and thoughts immediately focused, voice dropping. "Minerva has been activating most floo network gates across Britain for the past half hour, and it has the Ministry in an uproar." She fought to keep her smile from her face as she recalled Gawain's expression and Harold's ambiguous statement. "Especially since they have no idea how she's accessing closed networks."

Hermione chuckled, "I think she's using Hogwarts to bypass the Ministry's floo network security. Her floo has been firing almost every minute since she left. Initially I thought she was returning when the flames flashed and every time I went to leave, I could have sworn I saw her robes flare out from the fire more than a half dozen times."

Helena adjusted her cloak, "It seems as though my visit, while informative was premature."

"Care for a cup of tea?" Hermione questioned.

"Perhaps a cup," She took Hermione's arm within her own, arms interlaced as they began ascending the stairs, "And what, if I may ask, are you so carefully protecting?" She poignantly glanced at the journal latched within Hermione's opposite hand.

"Your animagus suits you quite well." Hermione expanded her response at Helena's questioning gaze, "Hawk like and missing little."

"And you have yet to answer my question." Helena rebuked.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

The clattering of the bottle against the glass battled against the roaring fire for the louder sound as Albus stared at his wife. Her pain washing over him in waves, churning…burning and he could almost feel the wetness of her cheeks…wishing he were there to do something, anything as with an unsteady hand she stood the bottle upright.

"What happened, Tabby?" He tried asking again as she raised the shaking cup to her rosy lips marred by seemingly forgotten soot and ash. His concern amplifying as she downed the tumbler of alcohol and reached for the bottle, again. "Tabby…"

"I'm fine, Albus." She drawled as the bottle clanked against the edge of the glass again.

"You are anything but…"

The bottle in her hand shattered, "Dammit." She snapped, as the bronze liquid splashed across the wood floor.

"Minerva."

"Lucius came to see me." She pulled a second bottle out, not bothering to clean up the mess drawing another wave of apprehension to pulse across their bond, "And I told you that I'm fine, stop fretting."

Despising the framed edge of his existence for the umpteenth time, Albus knew that what she needed and what he would be able to give her this evening…were vastly incongruent. "I'm not fretting, my dear. I'm worried."

She chortled at his simple declaration, "Worried?" She finished pouring off her second glass. "Is that all you can feel…?" She sipped at her second glass, drawing herself closer to stare at his large portrait.

He shook his long mane of silvering auburn hair, "You know that is untrue, my dear. Please, what has happened?"

"Aegis would like a meeting," His face balked at her statement.

"Surely you didn't…"

"He…" Her cadence trembling, her eyes closed…shielding her from seeing his reaction, feeling it…was hard enough. "Invoked a promise from over sixty years ago."

"When you were lovers…" He whispered knowing full well what she was referring to.

Tears slipped off her lashes as she opened her eyes, replying in deeply laced Gaelic, _'Yes.'_

_ 'Oh, my love.' _He quietly uttered, _'What has he asked?'_

_ 'For a meeting…' _She swallowed the ball of emotion as she desperately fought to remain standing, _'With him…regarding Hogwarts and Johannes.'_

_

* * *

xoxox

* * *

_

Bonnie's heart hurt at seeing the Mistress crumpled in a heap upon the wood floor, head resting upon her arm next to the nearly empty bottle. Her normally crisp attire marred by soot and ash; while her face was streaked from the tears through the fiery residue. Careful not to wake her, Bonnie lifted the bottle and at once it vanished to the cabinet.

Tear filled eyes lifted to Master Albus, whose soft snores mirrored Mistress Minerva's. An echo of their bond; a bond that once seemed to breathe the very life into the wizarding world…now barely offered a semblance of comfort to each other.

With a pop, she was in the Mistress' rooms; Minerva resting upon the bed. A handful of waves and snaps, Minerva was beneath the covers minus the soot and ash along with all but her under robes. Bonnie cast a final glance to the softly roaring fire, ensuring it would hold for another hour while she left the Ridge and went to Hogwarts to speak with Elgin.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: There is so much packed into a chapter anymore, and yet, at times it hardly seems as though anything was touched upon. Sighs. Truly hope you are still enjoying and I'm sorry I haven't been posting weekly, but at this point it's everything I can do to find an hour to write every other night. So, power of positive thinking; next week __will__ be better! (Visualizing two hours every night!) _


	43. Chapter 41 November 18th, 2009

_A/N: I have not had a good few weeks professionally, nor regarding the world of fanfiction. So, I apologize if I offend anyone, but I would like to clarify a few items and respond to a few messages I have received within the last month._

_The first and foremost is that I do not get paid for writing this or any other story that I have posted on this site. _

_Second is that I write because I enjoy it. _

_Thirdly, I have plans to finish all of my writings that are in progress, including this one. _

_Fourth, is regarding this story in particular – On average, the chapters are between 8,000 to 10,000 words long or 18 to 22 single spaced, typed pages. That means it takes me at least 22+ hours to complete one chapter for this story. For those who have belittled or commented regarding the posting on old stories and starting new ones versus posting on this one because of 'not receiving regular updates', read the first two items – again. Also, I would like to state that even during my busiest time of year which is over the holidays; updates were still being posted at a minimum of bi-weekly. Be mindful, that the word total from this chapter and the four before are greater than the whole of 'Tomorrow Too'. The chapter below is larger than all that has been written so far for the five chapters of 'Should Have' and the last chapter (November 17__th__) of 'Bonding' is longer than all of 'Should Have', 'Have a Little Faith in Me', and 'Heartfelt Confessions' combined. The irony being; that the above stories receive more reviews than each chapter of Bonding - i.e. more feedback on a lot less work.  
_

_Lastly, I love constructive feedback and feedback in general. Who doesn't? However, I don't appreciate persons who don't leave feedback or messages on the work/stories but sends a message wanting regular updates on a story that is already being updated regularly and to stop updating other stories or starting new ones. __So for those who believe that I am 'hop scotching' along stories; and have no intention of finishing this one; there is that possibility, but I truly hope not. As I do love writing on Bonding and have every intention of finishing it. __In short, if you don't like my posting time frames; or that I started a new story or posted on a different story versus posting on your 'preferred' story, then stop reading my stories. _

**

* * *

Chapter 41 November 18****th****, 2009 (Wednesday)

* * *

**

Elgin placed the well worn eagle quill back into his ink pot, preferring to wait the extra scant minutes until the last of the ink dried versus casting a charm to expedite the process. _He wasn't quite ready to see his Mistress so, lost._

_And Bonnie last evening…_with a shaking finger he removed the pooling water along the bottoms of his eyes, he knew watching the Mistress' slow passing would be heart wrenching…but Bonnie was having difficulties dealing with…Minerva's physical and now emotional decline. And as Elgin sealed the morning report, he honestly didn't know which one truly bothered him more; Minerva's decline or Bonnie's reaction.

_After all, he's did love her._ He mused while running his weathered fingers through his thinning hair. _He loved them both,_ he corrected and then he was staring at the deep mahogany walls of the Mistress' room at the Ridge…and the sunken features of the normally stately woman. "You'se report."

With aching slowness, she stretched out her hand, seemingly indifferent in the offering being provided; and then she paused as emerald eyes dropped to the paper…and he felt his heart plummet as she opened the report; her rich cadence…barely audible. "Anything of note?"

"You'se missed Blondie's last evening."

Minerva wandlessly summoned her glasses, "It's probably better I did." She peeled open the frame and the lettering snapped into focus as she scanned it. "And have either you or Tily had time to put together a rotating schedule?"

"No's. We'se is stretched Mistress."

"Bonnie." She half heartedly called, a frown lining her lips and accentuating the redness in her eyes.

"Mistress." She asked, appearing along Elgin. "Did you wish more tea?"

"No, I will need to be returning to Hogwarts, thank you. However, I will need half of the elves maintaining the Manor and Ridge to assist at Hogwarts until the holidays."

Bonnie turned to Elgin, "Why did you not tell me you were so short."

His ears sank, "You'se had enough worries."

"How short of a crew are you running?"

"We'se is working on eighteen hour rotations."

Bonnie huffed, and despite the last twelve hours and the headache still behind her eyes, Minerva couldn't stop and didn't want to…the smile from crossing her face at Bonnie's remarks and the string of Gaelic she broke in to; indicating how significantly frustrated she was at Elgin.

_'Eighteen hour rotations? You are to be running Hogwarts, not it running you. How long have you been doing this? And no wonder why you fell asleep last night!'_

"I'se not the only one not sleeping and pushing!" He charged back and Minerva was about to interject but he continued on, the cadence in his voice changing to a soft purr. "And regarding last night, I's only fell asleep after holding _you_ for three hours."

Bonnie's demeanor shifted immediately, _'I felt like I barely closed my eyes, and you were already asleep.'_

He reached out, tenderly touching her shoulder. "Only because I was exhausted, it had nothing to do with you'se."

Minerva watched as Bonnie and Elgin wrapped their tiny arms around the other, holding the other close. _That's why I need to continue to push,_ she thought as a tear slipped off her lashes. _For moments between others, like this. For my friends…my family…those I love, _she thought.

She and Albus always wondered how long it would take Bonnie and Elgin…and now after working together for close to sixty years, it seemed they were finally beginning to admit their feelings towards the other. And she couldn't be more thrilled.

Then as if realizing what they were both doing, and who they were in front of, the separated as if Minerva had spilled ice water upon them. "We'se…" Elgin began as did Bonnie, "We are…"

Minerva merely shook her head, while peeling her glasses off. "You both warm my heart beyond measure, now…" She turned to Bonnie, "Can you please coordinate with Elgin to have no more than half of the house elves from the Manor and Ridge assist at Hogwarts to alleviate the additional burden placed upon the infrastructure from our north wing residents?"

"I can send more than half, Mistress." Bonnie stated.

"I know, Bonnie. And may ask that you do so after the holidays, but this year, I am planning on having a rather large party before the start of the next year at the Manor."

"We can accommodate." Bonnie stated, "I'll coordinate with Elgin, and Minerva…we can send far more than half."

Minerva folded the paper within her fingers in half, "As always, I leave the Ridge and Manor in your capable hands. And Elgin," She shifted her gaze, "I shall be returning to Hogwarts during breakfast."

He nodded, "Will you'se be needing anything else?"

She gave them a subtle shake of her head, focus wavering again as her mind drifted to the past…she didn't see them both turn to the other, nor the worry upon their faces before they popped away. For she could still smell the bed of lavender they had sought refuse in; as they dallied all day…learning, breathlessly exploring…as they whispered heartfelt pleas and words of love. Months later, they both had realized, that their ideological differences were…vast; he far too Slytherin and she too Gryffindor. The paradox between them growing as their relationship burned hot, fast, and profoundly intense…their stark differences both allure and infuriating. Until, they parted ways; leaving what she had believed a lasting understanding between them and…at the time, love and a promise.

A promise that had nearly brought her downfall upon Derrick's death, believing he would invoke it then; to plead his case, his innocence to her…regarding his involvement in her brother's death. But he never asked, never invoked the promise held between them. And surprisingly, not one word had been uttered from Aegis to her. Only a poignant, heartfelt gaze was shared between the two before he dropped his eyes to the floor that day of the Wizengamut hearing. He never rebutted Rory's testimony or hers. The only statement he uttered was that he had been a Death Eater, and he would accept the consequences of those actions.

Now…thirty years later…and almost seventy years after their promise...he asked to be heard. Heard not as her enemy, not as her adversary, not even as her friend…but as he once was, her lover.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Then she did not return?" Hermione asked, already reaching for her cloak.

"She went home last night after her meeting." Bonnie stated, allaying the young woman's fears. "And will return during breakfast."

Hermione idly re-hung her cloak, "And you are not needed to assist at the Manor when she is there?"

"I already have." Bonnie replied, "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you were learning how to ask basic questions."

"I haven't gotten that far on the tutorial…"

"They are quite simple," Bonnie stated, overriding Hermione's statement. "To ask someone how they are?"

Hermione sighed as Bonnie spouted off a string of Gaelic. She had been true to her word, always arriving twenty-five minutes prior to when she left for breakfast…like clockwork. "Can you pronounce it again? Perhaps a bit slower."

Thirty minutes later, Hermione stepped through the one of the teacher's entrances to the Great Hall, expecting to see Minerva sitting in the Head of Hogwarts chair, only to find it empty and the plates unspoiled. She heard the door begin to latch, when a whish of air and the sound of a walking stick drew her eyes over her shoulder…to see Minerva step through the door she herself had just come through. Minerva's eyes jerked upwards, and Hermione immediately noticed the redness and puffy eyelids; causing her normally emerald eyes to stand out if at possible, even more. "Are you alright?" She asked as Minerva drew beside her.

Minerva merely cocked her brow, and in the next blink…Hermione was staring at the normally serenely placid face of the Headmistress. "Better?" She remarked and began moving forward.

"Perceptually." Hermione stated, striding to keep up.

"Then it shall work." Minerva cryptically replied before forcing a smile upon her face as she drew closer to her colleagues.

"Last evening?" Curiosity consuming Hermione as to what would move the woman beside her to enough tears to still be telling the following day.

Minerva placed her hand upon the upper edge of the chair, Hermione pausing in her movements, waiting. "The future and past colliding into the present."

Her statement drew several inquisitive glances from the professors already at breakfast, and Hermione squelched her curiosity for the moment; responding in a way that was necessary not desired. "Is that not the definition of the present?" Hermione questioned, drawing a nod from Filius.

"So it is, Professor." Minerva replied and with practiced ease pulled out her chair and sat down while Hermione drifted to her usual seat.

"I thought you had forgone your studies in the temporal field?" Filius questioned as he placed a glass of orange juice in front of Minerva's plate.

"I did after Albus' death." She responded, "It was merely a transitory phase of interest."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"And you are telling me, that you have no earthly idea how my floo network was activated last night!?" Kingsley's baritone voice reverberating down the hall and off of the handful of department heads.

"No, Minister. There is no feasible explanation." Veronica stated.

"And no one else here has any idea who could have possibly activated over half of the entire floo system in under an hour?"

Harold met Kingsley's furious gaze with typically composed expression. "The person we originally believed it to be last evening never actually left through their floo upon farther examination as theirs was one of the one's activated too."

Gawain physically took a step back, as did Veronica and the other four department heads in the meeting; Harold though, remained resolute as the Minister unleashed his tirade.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"…." Michaels paused as Helena leaned forward on her desk, eyes closed and her jaw clenched. "Are you alright?"

A marble mortar and pestle set burst apart in response, "No." She ground out, her ire pulsing in time with Harold's. "I'm afraid, we'll need to finish your report later this morning."

"Helena…"

Blue eyes opened, and pierced his brown ones. "Later." She stated, voice barely controlled and anger evident within icy blue orbs.

Michaels scooped up the rest of his report, "If it was something I said…"

"It has nothing to do with St. Mungos, Michaels. Ask Miranda to clear my morning." She pushed herself upright, "I'll be unavailable."

He gave a nod, "Anything else?" He swallowed hard, wondering what had happened to cause the sudden shift in Helena's demeanor.

The morning light glinted off her stark features, "Can you also have Miranda contact Milan Peoples?"

He sputtered, "Milan? I don't recall you stating there was need for a press conference…"

"That'll be all." She stated, turning away from the door and towards the calming view of the Thames. She could hear Michaels speaking with Miranda, the door closing on their conversation as she took another deep, calming and cleansing breath trying to help soothe her husband's incredible ire.

An ire…she no longer wished to feel, continually. Especially since the source of consternation had somehow managed to infiltrate and affect so many layers of not only her life; but those she cared for. And beginning this morning, she would initiate measures to eliminate or greatly reduce Shaklebolt's startling long reach.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Griphook stepped away from the vault; head bowed as the large door swung open to reveal the contents of Aberforth's remaining estate. Minerva took a hesitant step in, and laughed at the gold sheep staring towards the door. "Did he ask you to put this here?" She inquired to her diminutive friend.

"There may have been a postmortem request." Griphook stated, drawing beside her.

Kneeling beside the life like statue, she reached out and touched the still figure. "Do you have an accounting of the vaults contents?"

"The last accounting was requested June of 2007." He replied handing her the confidential figures.

"Please see to it…" She paused as she scanned the document, "That there is an official accounting and then divide the gallons, sickles and knuts three ways."

"To a Mr. and Mrs. McDore, Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell…"

She turned, "I believe their assets are quite enough."

Griphook chuckled, "They are."

"Please initiate an account or transfer a third of the assets to a Mister Teddy Lupin, Meredith Malkin's vault noting they are for 'special cases' and Olivander's with a similar note."'

"And the remaining items?"

Minerva stood, knowing the handful of items that Griphook spoke of. "Have them transferred to the Dumbledore family estate."

"I will personally see to it."

"Thank you, Griphook."

"You are quite welcome, and thank you for coming down here this morning."

"Do not thank me quite yet, as I have need for an official accounting of the assets in the McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Mister Brian and Katherine McDore's estates."

He shifted, uncomfortably as it had been many decades since either she or Albus had asked for an accounting. And he was quite sure that she would not ask unless her future was…in peril. Gravely he nodded, "What type of accounting would you prefer?"

"All three vaults on a duel accounting." She answered, "And I do hate to ask this Griphook, but I need these prior to the holidays."

"Can you direct your purchases through one account for the next month?"

"Transfer the necessary funds to Hogwarts from the McDore account for the next two months and I'll redirect my spending to come from that one as well."

"Very well." Black eyes narrowed, "Is there anything else?"

"I will be altering some aspects in my will, and after the accounting shifting the balance of the McDore account."

His concern became palatable. "Are you doing well, Minerva?"

"After recent events, just making prudent estate planning."

He nodded, "Understandable. And regarding estate…planning, from one…friend to another, Mister Aegis Black activated his vault."

"I am aware of his escape."

"This does not bode well, Minerva."

"No," She agreed stepping from Aberforth's vault, "It does not."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"One moment," Percy frowned as he stepped towards the back of the shop, "There's a messenger here for you?"

George nodded and finished his conversation with the young woman before maneuvering to the front of the store and to the waiting messenger. "What can I help you with?"

"If you could sign here." The stout man indicated the blank line, "To show receipt of your parcel."

George took the auto filling ink quill and scribbled his name. "So, what am I receiving?"

The messenger tucked the paper back into his robes, and proceeded to open his bag pulling a sealed parchment out and a singular apricot rose. "These." He stated, glancing towards the other red headed man gawking a handful of paces away, "And from what the station said, the woman who dropped this off…hat off to you Mr. Weasley."

George glanced down at the message, not recognizing the writing entitled _Mr. George Weasley _and feeling…oddly at a loss as he had wished it to have been from Rory. "Ahh…thank you." He muttered, wondering what witch was pursuing him now. _Perhaps I'll write her back and tell her that Percy would be interested,_ he thought half tempted to throw away the rose but knowing he would have to wait until later this evening to banish the annoyingly beautiful yet rather vapid endearment. He split the wax seal as the door to the shop jingled and he vaguely noted the messenger left before he glanced down to the words.

His heart lifted at once.

_George,_

_ Thank you for the enjoyable evening. The first, of what I can only hope, will be many more. I look forward to seeing you this coming Saturday._

_ Rory_

Instinctively, he brought the tip of the rose to his nose, breathing in the decadently rich scent.

"So," Percy nodded to the rose, "From your smile, and the rose, can I assume it went well last night?"

George twirled the rose against his lips, smile widening. "I'd say…we're off to a good start."

"It's a little more than that," Percy rocked on the balls of his feet, "You're grinning from ear to ear."

George chuckled, "Yes, well…" He tucked the parchment into his robes while grudgingly pulling the rose from his lips. "I can't help but have hopes."

"And you still aren't going to tell me who she is?" He asked, gently prodding his brother.

His robe flared behind him as he shook his head, beginning to walk towards his office. "Not on your life." He stated, while stepping around the corner…pumping his fist into the air as he spun around with a grin far surpassing the one he hadn't been able to suppress moments before. He felt…utterly…light and…was already counting the hours down until he could just see Rory.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Are you sure, Adam?"

"My dear, there is much that has happened, and I…" A low tremble peppering his words, "I will return home."

She reigned in her emotions as she replied. "I cannot protect you there."

He laid is large hand upon hers, "My child, you have far more to worry about than this old man."

"You are anything but old, Adam." She whispered, "And you are one of the many people that cause me consternation."

"Then save yourself some headache, and let me go." He crackled, "I don't think I can live without, Victoria."

She sighed, voice tight. "I didna think I could after Albus' death; and the hole it left still is gaping. But, you are strong, Adam."

"I'm old, dear. And have no desire to be strong. You have to let me go, even your mighty resources are stretched far too thin."

"I can't…"

He lifted his hand, gently running it down the side of her face. "I'll be dead by this time next month; and I will tell your father how so very proud I am of you."

"There has to be a way, surely there is a way…"

"Of course," He crooned, settling back into his bed. "But the cost is more than I can bear."

"Tell me." She pleaded.

"I'm afraid not, Minerva." He stated, the first hint of steal lining his voice. "You cannot save everyone."

"I can try."

"And if I it's a choice between myself and the Harrisons or perhaps, even Hogwarts?"

"You have never played poker well." Minerva interjected.

"And you need to learn to let go." He rebuked.

"Then before you leave St. Mungos, will you run a set of numbers for me?"

His eyes narrowed, "Regarding what?"

"Confirmation of Harkiss' death."

"I've already run the numbers." He stated, shifting. "Harkiss wished them run."

"And?" She asked, leaning forward.

"I told him, and altered the worksheets to indicate that he survived; however, there are several tipping points. Any of which can bring about his demise." Minerva breathed a sigh of relief as her muscles visibly relaxed but he shook his head. "Do not mistake me, Minerva. As I ran…" He reached for a stack of parchment, pulling it forward. "Several theoretical possibilities and not once…did you live, my dear."

Minerva fought back the swell of emotion in her throat, voice raw. "Is there any correlation between my death and his?"

"In ways that I do not understand."

"Then it is not always direct?" She asked, feeling numb.

"No. But, when it is not, I believe it is a catalyst."

"Do you know…" She fought to keep her voice steady, "Who?"

He shook his head, "I do not."

"Can you continue to work on it?"

"I'll be here for another two weeks and while you visit frequently; there are very few additional distractions. And I would be honored to continue to sort out what amounts to a rare mystery."

"Would it help if I were to bring my father's notes?"

Adam shook his head, "Meric was brilliant, but his journals are far out of date. And while he had managed to project forward with startling clarity; he did not share his base formula and would help little unless…" He paused, "Perhaps to compare the end results."

"I'll bring a copy of the last set of entries."

"Then only one journal remains viable."

"Yes."

"Are my findings similar?"

"I live," She whispered, "Only to die again."

He closed his eyes, "I'm sorry." He whispered, voice apologetic. "As I don't see you living past the first part of next year."

"Nor do I." She lamented. "But who wants to live forever?"

"Johannes."

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Harry stared at Gawain, "You're kidding."

"Any contacts you have with Minerva need to be reported."

"For what purpose?"

"National preservation."

"Or Kingsley's?"

Gawain fought off a smirk, "That too." He stated.

"And when I don't submit a report."

"How would I know when or if you see the Headmistress on your time?"

"Well…I definitely won't see her on yours."

Gawain nodded, "Precisely what I had hoped to hear."

"Then why ask?"

"Because, I have to see your reports."

Harry nodded, "You'll have them every Monday."

"That'll be all Harry." Gawain stated, "Now, if you would send in Ronald."

Oxox

Minerva strode down the hall, barely taking notice of the acknowledging nods from various wizards and witches as she continued heading towards the entry area and the floo networks for St. Mungos. She wished to return to the Manor for a short time to pull her father's journals and re-read the last several entries before giving them to Adam.

"Minerva."

She paused at the distinct German accent, turning to see Milan. Her angular jaw line, pursed lips, long blond hair, and piercing eyes staring at her. "Milan. You are looking well."

"And you." She stepped closer, "Doing well, as always, I presume?"

Minerva forced a smile, "It has been a bit trying this year, but overall, well."

"It does my heart well to hear that." She stated, "And how are Tessa and Percival?"

"Percival and Audrey are expecting."

Utter joy radiated from her expression, "Truly?"

"Yes." Minerva stated, "You should stop by and see them."

Milan measured Minerva, and sighed. "It would not be best for innumerable reasons."

"They miss you as much as you them." Minerva whispered drawing closer, "And while there is much between us, I have never disclosed our discord."

"And that makes it alright?" Milan breathed, anger already lacing her voice. "Not disclosing that I left because I grew tired of keeping your pithy secret."

"I did not divulge our discord due to personal reasons, Milan; rather the belief that you would like to continue your relations with the rest of your family."

Shock spread across green irises.

Minerva ignored the gaze, "And while we have not talked for almost thirty years, does not and did not mean that you had to isolate yourself from Tessa, Percival and Esmerele."

"Minerva…" Milan began, feeling as though waking from a self induced foolish nightmare. "I thought you would taint their perspective."

Minerva wandlessly silenced their words as she drew a hair's breathe closer, "That, Milan rests entirely upon your deeds and actions. Not mine." She began to turn away, but a strong grip tightened around her upper arm.

"And you…would you…forgive me?"

Minerva glanced at the hand, and then to the woman, the grip releasing as their gazes locked. "I did that decades ago, dear. But it is moot until you forgive yourself." And before Milan could formulate a response, Minerva was already across the dais and with a flash of green gone from St. Mungos.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Molly pulled up her chair to the table, reveling in the large gathering of family home this evening. Ginny, Harry, Ron, Percy, George, Bill, Fleur and Arthur were already helping themselves to dinner; the five children already having finished dinner and were upstairs playing it off.

"No," Bill continued on, "As far as I can tell, there have been no alterations regarding the enchantments."

Arthur took a large scoop of green beans, "Are you sure?" He handed the bowl to Harry. "I don't foresee the Goblins sharing that information freely."

"The last time an enchantment was altered was close to a decade ago, and the magical signature was altered on the coins making them emerald versus plum." Bill replied as he ladled another spoon of gravy over his roast and potatoes."

"Pervaps," Fleur passing on the meat, "McGonagall did not trasvfigurre the coins at all."

"Nah." Ron slid his food along his cheek, "Hermione said she did it."

"I don't know," Bill pulled out a coin from his robe, "How she would have managed to break thirty-two enchantments in under a minute."

"You mean there are time coded charms embedded into the enchantments too?" Ron asked, shocked.

Arthur nodded, "They are thorough."

"Blimey, thorough has nothing to do with that." He turned to George, "Do ya think she did it?"

Percy answered as George continued chewing, "She is one of the most decorated witches in all of Britain and Dumbledore's protégé."

Bill slipped the sickle back into his robes, "Either way, we haven't seen a change; but…" He nudged his younger brother, "I'm guessing that business is still booming from that."

"A bit." George stated, "But more along the older clients and not so much the children."

"But business is still going well, is it not?" Molly asked, hopeful.

"Fine mother." George replied.

"And you, Percy. How are things going with you…and what was her name?"

The table shared a round of smiles at their mother's all too familiar question. "Betty." Percy completed. "And not too well."

"Crash and burn," George chimed in, "And thinking of creating a new product line."

"George!" Molly berated, "He's your brother."

"And damn good thing, or he wouldn't have a chance at all."

"Finally settling down or are you still preening for the elusive picture of perfection?" Bill asked, knowing that while George had far more courtiers, he was also far more finicky.

"He went on a date last evening that ended with a rose and note by messenger from her today." Percy stated, shifting the groups attention to his brother and not him.

George felt all eyes land upon him, and before the room broke into a frenzy of questions…he contemplated telling them of who he had spent dinner with last evening. But at seeing his mother's happiness…couldn't.

"Who is she?" Ron asked.

"When do Arthur and I get to meet her?"

"Is she pretty?" Fleur inquired.

_ And yet, how can something that feels so right, be…anything other than…right? _He questioned as his father gently laid his napkin down along his plate and met his son's eyes.

"I don't really want to talk about it." George said, holding his hand up to stop the moaning, "I went on one date and was sent a thank you card for our dinner." He stared at his father, "Nothing more."

A loud ringing of moans turned into gentle jibes…and before long the conversation had turned back to the business of Harkiss and the correlating problems beginning to percolate within the Ministry.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Meredith slit the official Gringott's seal; idly wondering why she had received a letter so late in the evening. _Surely they are sending notice of another insufficient funds letter for the Yollmans,_ she thought dreading the answer. If so, she would need to speak Vlachek or perhaps even Griphook, if he was available, and begin putting measures in place to cease their ability for automated payments to vendors.

At once, her eyes began skimming the elegantly detailed writing, and she found her eyes fixed upon 'executor of his estate'…and at once started over.

_Meredith Malkin,_

_ It is both with great sorrow and hope for the future that these tiding are being sent to you. After review of Aberforth Dumbledore's estate, the executor of his estate, has allocated 74 gallons, 132 sickles, and 29 knuts to your Gringott's vault for the families who do not have the financial means to provide adequate robes/clothing for themselves or their children. The funds will be available at 7am in accordance with Gringott's banking hours._

_ Due to the nature of the estate, the executor would like to remain anonymous, all correspondence, including questions are to be routed through my office._

_ Griphook_

_ Chief Goblin, Gringott's – Britain Division_

Meredith stared at the parchment, tears in her eyes at the hope for so many less fortunate families that she would now be able to fully assist for at least the next two years and perhaps longer depending on how she was able to stretch the bolts of clothing. The words, executor of his estate, jumped off the page again; and she couldn't help wonder who this mystery saint in conjunction with Aberforth truly was.

There weren't many persons who were close to the Dumbledores; especially both Albus and Aberforth. In truth, only one name came to mind who remained alive, _Minerva McGonagall._ Meredith pondered for a long moment, and finally shook her head. _No, I have known her for years, and while she would be easily capable of allocating Aberforth's money to those less fortunate, she would have signed her name. After all, they had known each other for decades…_

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Oxox

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Timothy took an additional moment to re-read the totals; before glancing up to met Griphook's worldly black gaze. "And it would be fair to assume that this would be for…" Blue eyes crinkled as they spoke, "Students, preferably those attending Hogwarts, per se."

"The estate's executor nor the original will specified." Griphook obliquely replied.

"Then before taking custody of the finances," Timothy paused for a moment, "I request clarification."

Griphook stared at the old, eccentric wandmaker; and he should have known. Of all the persons within the wizarding world, this man had a unique ability to read people and even to a lesser extent, but far better than most humans, goblins too. "You will have it."

"And when you see Minerva…" Timothy drawled folding the parchment into its original position, "Give her my thanks."

Griphook's eyes crinkled behind his half moon spectacles, "I will."

Timothy watched as Griphook departed from his store, a rarity to be sure for the Chief Goblin to be in a wizard's store; running what amounted to a messenger for one of its clients. A powerful, wealthy client; but a client none the less. And he couldn't help but wonder what would possess one of the most powerful goblins in greater Britain into willingly helping a witch.

Sighing, he waved his wand, the worn sign in the door flipped to close and the lock mechanism engaged. They had lost so many during the war with He Who Must Not Be Named; and then the rebuilding. He, himself, had found the task…daunting and practically insurmountable. But, the days slipped by and then the weeks; life beginning to return to a semblance of normalcy. However, for some, this was not the case…and while she never gave any outward indication, never once insinuated that her life was once again the picture of tranquility…he knew otherwise. He had known _her _since she, herself came into this store to pick out her own wand. Known her parents, her two brothers. Watched her grow, mature and become a witch as mighty as her namesake. Invited to a private ceremony, and the privilege of witnessing a historic wedding. He had, met her…their children; all four of them. Had watched as their youngest married and began to have a family of his own. And then the sadness struck the McGonagall and Dumbledore lines again as first their youngest son and his family; followed by the death of her brother…and now…

He reached over pouring himself a drink, she had but two children and two grandchildren; fate had been unforgiving and had seen fit to take the rest. And it had left it's mark; deep, cutting and lasting upon the witch. And now, with the future again resting in a pit of uncertainty, the wizarding world was leaning heavily upon the iconic woman who…had lost another pillar of strength that undoubtedly helped to sustain her.

And yet…to all, she remained stoic and steadfast, even continuing to find ways to spur and cultivate hope; he thought as his aged hands tapped the parchment. He took a sip of the bronze liquid realizing why Griphook had come this evening…

_Mutual respect and equitable partnership._

_ Perhaps there was hope for the wizarding world and the magical creatures after all…_he drummed his fingers on the worn counter. He just hoped that this blemish in the wizarding world history would see fit to keep Minerva and what remained of her family, safe.

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Xoxo

* * *

"And who taught you how to do magic?" Jean asked her grand-daughter, trying to keep the smile from her voice.

"Aunt Minerva." Rose replied as she waved the now, flimsy piece of rolled paper in the air and swept it down in an arcing motion. "But I can't do it without mom or her."

"And what spell did she teach you?" Jean watched as Rose exaggeratedly flipped her wrist; beginning to wonder if the woman Rose was speaking about did in fact teach Rose a spell.

"Reeeparo." Rose said in conjunction with another swirling motion, "I fixed a cup."

"And your Aunt Minerva, what's she like?" Jean asked trying to place where she knew the name from. _A relative of Ron's perhaps?_

"She's tall, got long pretty hair she never lets down, and is lots of fun. She trans…something for Hugo; making a pillow into a puppy."

"Why don't you set your wand down, and we'll go run some warm water while we talk?"

Rose eyed the paper for a moment, before turning to her grandmother. "This isn't really a wand, Nana. Not at all like the one Aunt Minerva has." She set the paper down, "Her's is about this long." She extended her hands out, "And is warn along the handle and…has these waves along the end that are really pretty."

"And you saw her this last weekend?" Jean asked and Rose bobbed her head. "While with your mother?"

"She works with mom. The Headmistress." Rose stated grabbing onto the rail leading upstairs. "And…she has a really cool bathroom!" She paused after taking three steps, "Not that yours aren't Nana, but…hers is huge. She's has her own pool," Her voice dropped, "But I'm not suppose to tell anyone. So," She turned back to meet her grandmother's smiling brown eyes, "Don't tell grandpa, okay?"

Jean nodded, "It'll be our secret."

Rose visibly relaxed, "Thanks."

And then her grand-daughters comments clicked, and she suddenly realized who Rose was referring to as her aunt. "Is your Aunt Minerva's name, Minerva McGonagall?"

"Yup." Rose said as she jumped up the last step. "I use to call her Aunt McGonagall, but she asked me to just call her Aunt Minerva."

Jean couldn't help but keep the frown from her face as she did the math, it had been almost twenty years since she originally met the woman in question. She had come to their house, hand delivering a letter and explaining about Hogwarts and that their daughter had magical abilities. The last time she had seen the woman, she had just been made Headmistress and was presiding over Hermione's graduation. _Surely, Rose wasn't referencing the same woman, was she? But the name, Minerva McGonagall, was not common by any means. And pretty hair? Wouldn't a large portion of have turned grey? She has to be at least my age… _

"You coming, Nana?" Rose came back around the corner peering down the stairs, Nana had stopped for some reason half-way.

"Huh…yeah, sorry pumpkin." She said, shaking her meandering thoughts. She would have to ask Hermione, but…until then, she couldn't help but wonder.

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* * *

Hermione picked up Minerva's bishop; eyes looking across the board to see the same reaction she had seen since arriving an hour ago and asking to finish their game. None. Minerva was there, engaging when engaged, but otherwise…seemingly lost in her own internal musings…and permitting herself to be decimated by Hermione. She had captured four of her pawns, a knight, rook and bishop within the last hour; and Hermione seemed well on the way to checking her king.

As if to confirm Hermione's thoughts regarding the game, Minerva's hand swept across the board and moved her remaining knight exposing one of her pawns. Hermione sighed, her rook easily taking the black piece. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked quietly as Minerva went to move her knight.

"I'm sorry?" Minerva paused, fingers upon her knight, blinking up at Hermione.

"Whatever is troubling you," Hermione felt herself drowning in green as she tried to swallow, but behind the sea of green was a wall etched in stone and she knew better than to push against it…and opted to let the rest of her sentence drift off, unspoken.

Minerva inwardly chastised herself, her thoughts had drifted to the events of the day and last eve. _Of course, Hermione would notice her less than usual self…and this morning did not help matters._ Her eyes narrowed as she truly looked at the board, her pieces mirroring her thoughts. _Unfocused and in disarray. _At once, she moved her knight in a bold, challenging way; engaging Hermione's queen. "My apologies, my mind has been…elsewhere."

Hermione stared at the board, _where had that move come from? _"Did you wish to finish the game?" She asked, lifting her gaze up, "Or perhaps do so tomorrow, when you are…" She paused trying to come up with another phrase…

"Better company?" Minerva interjected, causing Hermione to smile.

"Perhaps."

Minerva poured herself her first cup of tea, casting a warming spell upon the liquid. "If you are…amenable," She knew she was being anything but _good_ company, but…she also did not want to be by herself for just a while longer. "Tonight is fine."

"Are you sure? You seem quite distracted, and not up for company." Hermione stated honestly.

"Not company," Minerva drew her cup and saucer over her lap, "But a friend is most welcome this evening."

Whatever happened, it had obviously bothered Minerva; but it was also obvious that she was not ready to talk about it. And despite her own curiosity, Hermione switched topics, knowing that if Minerva wished to talk about it, she would. Until then, she would be a quiet friend, hopefully lifting Minerva's spirits. "Then perhaps…" She dropped her gaze back to the board, "You would feel up to telling me about the move you just did." She went to pick up her bishop, "As that was rather unexpected."

"Life is sometimes." Minerva whispered, more to herself than to Hermione.

Hermione resisted the temptation of the comment, moving her bishop along the board. "There was an interesting story that finally took Ron and I off the front page of the Prophet today; did you have an opportunity to read it?"

Minerva's brow arched, a mildly amused expression passing over her features. "I did skim it this morning. A concern to be sure, a breach of Ministry floo networks. I have already inquired regarding the safety of the network system and how it relates to Hogwarts and whether they know who the perpetrator was."

"So…you have no additional knowledge?" Hermione questioned as Minerva brought her rook into the fray.

"Only what I read in the prophet."

Hermione eyed her options, "Helena said that Harold and Gawain were at the Hovel yesterday and had to leave because of the event. And…" She placed her own knight into striking distance of Minerva's king. "I have to admit to being slightly curious as to why your floo continually fired after you left."

"It did?" Minerva asked, looking perplexed too.

"Yes." Hermione succinctly replied while Minerva's queen slid down the full length of the board, taking her rook.

"It has been acting rather peculiar, I'll have to look into that." Minerva stated, leaning back.

"The only question I have," She murmured, "Other than the obvious chess one, is how you were able to activate closed or one-way networks? And why do it?"

"That was two dear." Minerva corrected as Hermione sacrificed another pawn as her knight fled backwards, Minerva's move freeing the direct line between her remaining bishop and Hermione's knight.

"And…?" She asked, taking a ginger cookie.

"I have no knowledge to either; as I went…_home_ last evening to attend to some personal matters."

"Minerva…" Hermione leaned forward, "Helena and I both know it was you; as does Harold and Gawain. And I'm sure the Minister suspects, but can't prove it."

Minerva sighed, having neither the required stamina nor energy to continue with the ruse. "Lucius came to see me last night, unplanned. And as I have Unspeakables watching my every move; we needed to leave the Manor before he was seen."

"So you flooed across England?"

"In a manner."

"Both of you?" She asked, trying to understand.

"Yes." Minerva conceded.

Hermione blinked, mind grappling with the simple declaration, "How…" She started over, "Is that even possible?"

"Most things are possible," Minerva moving one of her two pawns forward. "It is after all, magic dear."

"Everything I have read regarding floo networks…"

"Was published and approved by the Ministry's floo division." Minerva interjected, setting her now empty cup and saucer down. "But the initial design was for family travel; including children and parents."

"A child and parent do not equal the same body mass."

"And what of two children and a parent or three?"

"The floo will hold them?"

"Of course." Minerva replied, "However, it only tracks one person's magical signature."

"No one knew you had anyone with you last evening, because while they may suspect you were the cause they don't know why and that you were…meeting with him?"

"A few words scattered across dozens of networks; while stopping and talking at one or two quiet ones."

"Like Kingsley's."

"Precisely."

"I'm sure that went over well with the Minister."

"As with most things of late." Minerva inwardly lamented, wishing the divide had not grown between them.

"And Lucius; what did he wish to speak with you about?"

The relaxed atmosphere dissipated in an instant, a wall as deep and stout as the one created at the gates of Azkaban between them. "Personal matters." Minerva clipped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude…"

Shaking her head, "You are not, Hermione. And I am sorry, to make you feel as though you are. As I had hoped to ask for your assistance…regarding the matter."

"Of course. But regarding what matter?"

With a heavy sigh, Minerva spoke. "There are several…events from my past that I wish could remain there; and one happens to be the reason Lucius came to the Manor last evening." She paused, measuring the brown eyes that were staring at her from across the distance, "Aegis wishes a meeting with me."

"Aegis? As in Aegis Black? The man who killed your brother?"

Minerva had known that Hermione would react to the news; but she had not anticipated this…

"Why would Lucius come to you with that? And why would Aegis think he could? And…" Her voice became softer, as did her eyes. "For some reason you agreed, didn't you?"

Minerva tore her gaze away as she stood, walking towards the window trying to quell her innate reaction and turbulent feelings regarding her upcoming meeting with Aegis. And the burst of emotion in her breast from Hermione's heartfelt gaze. "I…" She turned away from the portraits and woman sitting in her office, "Have a long history with Aegis. One that began while we both attended Hogwarts."

Hermione suddenly felt, worried. Very worried. "You and Helena stated as much during the Order meeting." Her eyes pinned upon Minerva's figure.

"Yes…" Minerva's voice becoming soft, "The fights and duels between us and our friends while attending here bordered on deathly."

Hermione frowned, "It couldn't have been that bad."

The portraits in the office moaned, Dumbledore speaking above the chattering. "Our esteemed colleague spent much of her youth in detention alongside Mr. Black; when we were able to prove it stemmed from her or Aegis."

Minerva felt a smile grace her lips, "I do recall an event or two that we were innocent of."

"Merely due to lack of evidence, my dear."

"True." She whispered, "Very true."

"And after you left?"

"We struck an accord; at least temporarily." Minerva continuing on, "Hence, his basis for our meeting."

"And you granted it, even though he killed Derrick?"

There was a long, poignant pause within the room; no breathing, no movement was to be had except for the vague ticking clock by the staircase; the strange, alabaster, blue, green one that looked to be reflections of the ocean on a moonlight night.

"I am meeting with him on Tuesday evening," Minerva finally uttered, eyes staring past the shadowy outlines of her reflected image as they swept over the grounds. "And was hoping you would accompany me."

"What time will we need to leave?"

Hermione's response easing a measure of Minerva's discomfort. "Just after dinner."

"Where will we be meeting?"

"I am still working on a location that will be both secluded and accessible to both parties; as Lucius will be joining Aegis."

Her worry about the upcoming meeting increased tenfold, "Do you think this is a trap?"

"No, however, I have asked you, in case I am wrong."

"Minerva," She stood and stepped closer to the woman, "Why agree to the meeting in the first place?"

"Hogwarts." Came the thick reply, a solitary line of tears slipping quietly off her right cheek.

"Why not ask Harry or Ron, the Ministry to attend and merely arrest him?"

"I have my reasons." The steel lining her quiet voice, palpable.

"Minerva…" The words dying in her throat as Minerva's hollow gaze was pulled from the window and landed upon her. There was an obvious trail of tears along the right side of her face, the black circles highlighting her red-rimmed eyes.

"I will see you tomorrow, Hermione." She stated, voice startlingly devoid of emotion, a complete contrast to the utter pain and heartache etched upon her face.

"Is there nothing I can do for you? Help you?" Hermione asked, feeling…dreadfully awful for bringing the conversation back to what had obviously plagued her for the whole of last night.

"You have, dear." She whispered, feigning a teary smile before nodding to the door. "Now, goodnight."

Hermione slowly turned away, feeling as though…she were walking through molasses and…stopped as she reached the sofa. She cast a glance back, Minerva…was gone. At once she glanced to the stairs, the balcony area and her living quarters black. _She must have left the grounds,_ Hermione thought feeling even heavier.

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Hermione shifted her weight, absently realizing that her left leg had at some point gone numb before she turned the second to last page of Minerva's journal only to find it, starkly blank save for the singular blot of ink at the top of the page. At once, she flipped it back. Her eyes skimming across the last paragraph…

_In summary, the text primarily contained correlating data points of witnessed human traits that could have been perceived to be attributed to animagus traits. The last chapter contains anecdotals from my personal animagus training, and while not an animagus yet, I can attest that there is a definitive_

The word 'correlation' immediately sprang to Hermione's mind and she couldn't help wonder why Minerva had not finished her entry. Yet, again, another question to pose to Minerva. Delicately, she closed the journal and set it upon her nightstand, eyes drifting over to clock. She knew it was late, and was mildly disheartened at how truly late it was; two-eighteen.

Godric had yet to tell her of Minerva's return; and she tried to dispel the uneasiness that had settled into her soul when Minerva had left Hogwarts this evening.

_So much for asking Minerva tonight_, she thought as she flipped the covers back, the dwindling fire evident from the chill in the air. Grabbing her robe while she slipped her feet soundly into a pair of slippers, she set about her preparations for going to bed and hopefully in calming her mind.

_ She had always found Transfiguration fascinating, and mentally stimulating. But,_ she reached over and picked up a three inch piece of oak, throwing it onto the fire. _Minerva's journal had opened a new realm of possibilities and thoughts regarding the subject. Minerva…_her body stilling at her mind's rumination as it echoed, again. _Minerva…_the image of the tired woman whose life seemed to be perfect…a loving family, friends, financial stability, children, grandchildren…and yet, it had been equally as heartbreaking as most of her friends and family had been killed, including her husband and as the image of Esmerele's bloody body and Minerva's shattered expression as she grabbed her daughter…and the horrifying scream as she ripped her family warding structure and apparated Esmerele to St. Mungos…to the next morning when she woke, disoriented…trying to be brave and now…she was running Hogwarts, trying to deal with Harkiss, her magic had been cursed and she was slowly becoming weaker…and Aegis Black had just been added to the mix…and Hermione felt a desire to protect Minerva ignite…as the fire beside her roared back to life.

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Xoxo

_A/N: It's starting to get interesting :)_


	44. Chapter 42 November 19th, 2009

**Chapter 42 ~ November 19****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

Minerva never heard the door close to the Great Hall and the last vestiges of breakfast as she took two steps away and with a ripple of magic was already striding through her office towards her desk; and the four dozen plus letters awaiting her. The one resting on top immediately caught her attention, _Surely Griphook has not already counted the vaults…_she summoned the letter to her, breaking the seal.

"Minerva," Everard began, "The Minister's ire has not subsided and it appears his investigation will be drifting towards Hogwarts by this afternoon."

She began opening the letter, "Hopefully Harold or any of the other department heads will talk some sense into him."

The entire room of portraits grumbled, "At this point, he needs more than _sense_, Minerva." Severus' comment drawing a chuckle from Phinneas and several others.

"I still harbor hope." She replied as her green gaze dropped down to the Griphook's familiar scrawl. "That he will again be the Minister he once was."

"I agree with Severus, Minerva." Dily's stated, "Kingsley's fears have changed him."

"He was sorted into Slytherin; and there were reasons for that." Dippet interjected.

Minerva's eyes darted across the page, "I am aware of Kingsley's allegiances, but there are extraneous factors involved Armando."

_Mr. Timothy Olivander posed a question regarding Mr. Aberforth Dumbledore's estate; the monies and final distribution. Are the monies to be utilized for students only? And if so, Hogwarts only?_

"Do not let your belief, your hope, cloud your judgment." Severus leaned forward, "It is one of your most admirable qualities, Minerva; but also a very large Achilles heel that he will exploit to his advantage."

She leaned her walking stick against the desk, eyes meeting his. "And that heel believed _you_ Severus when Albus did not."

"But you are wrong _this _time." He challenged.

Sadly she knew he was right, "I know," She whispered, her shoulders sinking from the weight of the last few days in conjunction with the past several wearing weeks easily apparent upon her features. She went to turn away from Severus, her eyes landing upon Rose and Hugo's drawing. "But, I _want_ to believe."

"Believing doesn't make it so, my dear." Albus gently stated, wishing he could take the burden of the world that had been thrust on her shoulders…and make it all disappear as he wrapped her in his arms. She was so tired, had to deal with so much responsibility, and…the world had done anything but give her a break; quite the opposite…as the world had decided to rest…squarely on her shoulders. And he could do nothing to help her, except to be there for her...without having the ability to be there as he _wanted _to be.

"No, but…if I don't believe," She raised misty eyes to her husband, "Then what is the point anymore, Albus."

"Tempering the balance, dear."

"Balance?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "And those along the paradigm?"

"Please, love. Don't." His voice dropping. "You have to remain strong."

"I am trying." She sighed, "But I also have to face the very real fact, Albus. I'm far too weak to be fighting a war with the Ministry too."

"I know." He murmured, concentrating on his love…on his feelings for her…and emerald eyes burrowed into his; as their bond pulsed with life…

…

The green and blue in the clock glowing…molding…until neither remained and only the turquoise and alabaster remained…

…

And for a moment, Minerva felt the world become immeasurably lighter…peace emanating across her battered soul as wave after wave of love…his love engulfed her…blanketing her, protecting…healing…

And she felt his longing…

Felt him.

His arms securely fastened around hers…chest against her back...him drawing her into him…his breathe against her ear…

…

Then the portraits recoiled as screams were ripped from both Albus and Minerva as several tendrils of their bond became stagnant once again…a pulse of blinding white magic erupting from Albus' portrait and Minerva's body causing the latter to collapse, her knees striking the wood floor…hands bracing her upper body as she choked for a labored breath…

The turquoise breaking apart…leaving a sea of green and bits of blue…as the clock's background realigned…

Tears in both blue and emerald eyes…

…

Their longing and the depths of their feelings having been cauterized… as their bond returned to its previous, dire state; and perhaps one tenth of what it used to be.

…

"God…I…" Tears splashing onto the floor, "Miss you." She took in a heart wrenching sob, "So very much."

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"Good Afternoon, Minerva."

"And to you Veronica." Minerva placed her quill back into the ink well, "What can I help all of you with?"

Kingsley stepped forward, "The Ministry has reason…"

Minerva took in the look of the other three occupants in the room, Veronica, Gawain, and Harold. "You have reason," She interjected, feeling her jaw tighten as she stood. She did not wish to engage in another verbal sparring match with Kingsley; she was too tired, too…raw… but necessity did not care about the aforementioned…and the last thing she _needed_ was for him to be more involved in her affairs.

"Headmistress, the fact remains, the floo network was under attack less than 36 hours ago, and all traces lead back to you."

Harold noticed Albus' portrait sit up straighter as Minerva stepped around her desk, her voice thick, icy. "Correction, Minister." She said while drawing to a stop in front of him. His height, impressively towering over her; her aura…and strength of character...towering back. "You assume they led back to me; as I have become the Ministry's and more importantly _your_ focus for all things; because of my perceived association and conflict with Harkiss."

"You are out of line, Minerva." His voice becoming threatening.

"As are you, Minister." She said, brow arched. "Because, if you _had _proof, you would have brought Aurors, filed charges with Wizengamout, and petitioned the Board of Governors for my removal as the Headmistress. Instead, you are here, seeking that…" She turned to Veronica, Gawain, and Harold. "Which you will not find."

"Then you are not permitting Veronica to verify the floo networks readings comings and goings from your grate?"

Minerva's face became glacial, and Harold was reminded as to why…she was a formidable adversary. As…she…rarely let her temper flare; and Kingsley…was goading it on in full measure with his own stupidity. "I have nothing to hide, Minister." Her eyes nodding to Veronica, "And of course, will assist the Ministry in completing their investigation, no matter how unwarranted."

The seconds in the Headmistress' office drug on as Veronica tested the floo network. The flames jumping in an array of colors as she threw blue then red…and with a frown black powder into the grate.

Harold, felt his own lips curl downward as the grate did not react to the last powder thrown in. She had visited with him this past week; via the floo…and Helena had used the grate too…he stopped this line of thinking; knowing Minerva had used the grate this past week and the startling reality that it was not reading those occurrences…nor how many others, was a mystery he would prefer to know nothing about. Especially today.

Veronica turned back to the Minister and the Headmistress. "This network has not been activated this past week, Minister."

His jaw rippled, "And perhaps you could tell me how the one at your Manor activated?"

"Careful, Kingsley. Or shall I have Gawain recite Ministry law?"

"Then you don't deny using it?"

"Of course I used it, it was late and I left from there and went to my primary residence after verifying the alarms that had been activated along the Manor were…reset and the Manor safe."

Gawain and Harold's attention was immediate, Veronica and Kingsley's on the secondary aspect. "Second home?" Kingsley frowned, "Where is your primary residence?"

"Was everything alright?" Gawain asked.

"The wind caused an old oak along the eastern property line to fall and set off the alarms;" She stated, meeting Gawain's eyes and then sliding them to Harold. "I reset them; and I do hope…there are no more occurrences, as I may petition with the Ministry and _your _department Harold regarding Unspeakable activity."

"I can assure you, they were not along your property last evening, Headmistress."

Minerva nodded, "And yes, Kingsley, I do have other residences in Britain. Several to be exact, including the one all four of you are currently standing in. Now, if there was nothing else, please see yourselves out."

"A pleasure as always, Minerva." Veronica stated as she strode beside the Minister and Headmistress.

"Give Brian my best." Minerva replied and Veronica smiled before stepping around Harold and Gawain. "And Gawain, I shall see you in a few weeks at the Holiday ball; and Harold, always a pleasure."

Harold and Gawain both nodded, "Good day Minerva." They rumbled simultaneously before following Veronica out and leaving the Minister and Headmistress momentarily alone.

"There will come a time Minerva when you will not be able to hide behind the cloak screen that you have seemingly erected around Britain."

"The only cloak that exists around me is the protective one for my family. Now," She looked to the door, "I believe your entourage is waiting."

Kingsley took a step closer, "I will find Harkiss through you; and in doing so bring your iconic role to what it truly is; merely a witch craving power through subversion."

"And here I thought you were going to say the truth, an exhausted woman who has wanted to retire for close to a decade and spend it with her children and grand-children; but continues to be what _you_ and the rest of Britain needs – a role model. And that is something, I have never wanted nor sought and will happily give it to the next witch or wizard who wishes it."

"I…"

"Leave, Kingsley. I am tired, and have far more important things to address than to hear you prattle on about the Ministry and your far-fetched concerns regarding my associations."

In a whirl of cloaks, he stormed from her office; the door reverberating on its hinges. "Ohhhh, when did he become so…" Her eyes glanced upwards, noting that every portrait had their hand over their mouth indicating to be quiet. And she let the sentence trail off, brows knit together in question.

Albus pointed upstairs and walked from his portrait. His meaning clear, he wanted to speak with her in private. She turned back around, eyes remaining fixed on the door to her office for a moment before her distinct gait could be heard across the wooden floor and up her rooms. At once, she noticed the door to her den ajar and with a frown entered her bedroom. "Albus…"

"Close the door."

Sighing she did as he asked, and within in moments, even the other portraits heard her. "HE DID WHAT?!"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"And you are sure they were all planted?" Kingsley asked to both Harold and Gawain as they stepped off the elevator.

"They were." Harold stated, abhorring his job and wishing there was some way to have let Minerva know why he and Gawain were there today. They had Unspeakables mirroring their movements through the entry and exit of the warding structure of Hogwarts main gates; thereby alerting the Headmistress that there were only four guests; when in fact there were six. The other two…had been given the job of bugging Minerva's office, her living suite and as many rooms as possible upstairs without her noticing. They had managed all but her bedroom; it had not permitted entry.

They rounded the corner, and Harold knew it would only be a matter of time, now. And the worst part was; he could do nothing to stop it. No matter the worry, no matter the previous ingenious plans to obfuscate around Kingsley's machinations…he had no way to inform her. No way to help his dearest and…oldest friend. And despite wanting to resign, he knew he couldn't. He could not risk Kingsley promoting someone to run the Department who would just seemingly follow directives without question and infringe upon peoples' rights. His Department held far 'too' many secrets to be at the Ministers whim.

"I'll be able to contact the Board and ask for her removal…" Kingsley's voice trailed off as he drew to an immediate stop at seeing Minerva, a very furious and imposing Minerva McGonagall waiting in front of his office. A stray thought flittered across his mind as to how she had arrived here ahead of him…and that she had done the very thing he had gone to accuse her of absolutely infuriated him. She had somehow activated and used his floo network…but the rest of his thought died away as she began speaking; voice barely controlled with undulating rage.

"Did you forget…" She opened her palm, "A few sundry items?" Harold felt relief burst through him. _Somehow, she had found the planted listening devices. _

The handful of secretaries and other personnel stood, staring at the Headmistress of Hogwarts, the content within her hand and the look of fury etched across her normally serene features…and at once…shifted away from the Minister.

The Minister opened his mouth; Minerva's wand arced…and whatever words were about to come from his mouth fell in silence.

"You didn't want public outcry…" She pointed her wand to the floor, and then the entire marble seemed to hum…and the rest of her sentence was carried throughout the whole of the Ministry; all twenty-eight floors…including the Department of Mysteries. "But I _want_ the public to know." She stepped closer to Kingsley, eyes ablaze with fury, "Exactly what _you _have been doing."

Frantic eyes left hers to that of Gawain and Harold…silently asking for some type of intervention…neither capitulated as they both took a step, backwards.

"To me. And if you are willing to do that to me, a respected colleague and friend, what would you be willing to do to any other witch or wizard? As you've sent Auror teams to spy upon Hogwarts and myself, and when that didn't work you arranged to have Unspeakables sent to track me…and yes," She stepped closer, her cadence thick, "They _do_ leave tracks. You condemn me to the public stating I have a desire to seek public office, to seek _your _job…and just now, you come to my office, believing I set off the floo network and in the guise of Ministry security use that time to infiltrate my office!" The very walls echoed with her rage, her voice suddenly dropping and becoming deathly quiet and as she stood toe to toe with him. "I will have your job Kingsley and lottery the blasted office away and congratulate the poor sod who wins."

The devices in her hand went up in smoke and she turned and walked back towards Kingsley's office…the hum throughout the Ministry vanishing…her words would no longer be carried throughout the Ministry; but the damage had already been done.

At least to the Minister.

"Minerva…wait…" Harold stated stepping forward, around the Minister…

"Step within my office again Harold, and I will be attending two funerals." The door snapped close and as he reached for the handle, he could see her outline reach into the floo powder and as he opened it…he felt his jaw drop. She had made a wide circle around her with floo powder upon the floor and then…dropped her wand downwards, eyes sparkling. "I believe a new Minister calls for a new office…" And before Harold, Gawain, or anyone could do or say anything, she snapped her wrist and green flames spun red before bursting outwards…

Everyone outside the office lunged away, trying to avoid being singed…and then…the flames were gone; as was the Headmistress. However, she had left her mark.

A telling one.

The office had been incinerated. Ash now existing where leather and cherry furniture used to sit as black soot reigned downward; the opaque marble cracked…and the walls melted, except for the area around the fire. The space in front of the fireplace remained unspoiled, whole…as did the mantle and the picture of Everard above it. However, there amongst all the black ash and soot; was a solid gold object where Minerva had been standing…

Summoning it, Harold felt a rumble begin deep in his chest as a Weasley coin fell into his hand.

The picture on the front the emblem of the Ministry; and the back…Kingsley's picture…with the words – Vote Out."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva forced herself to listen to Pomona's bi-weekly head of house report; her mind on what had transpired at the Ministry and more importantly with Kingsley. Despite not having the energy nor the desire to deal with the him; it was now no longer an ignorable option. She had to deal with him. And that meant going toe to toe with the Minister; putting Hogwarts and the Ministry at odds, again.

She noticed Pomona glance up, and she rattled her brain for what they had been talking about. Building a subterranean level into Greenhouse 4 during the remodel this coming summer, "I don't believe the Board will allocate the funds, Pomona." She continued on, "However, if you are willing to put together a proposal on how the expansion will improve the student curriculum, I will see that it gets approved."

"Minerva, you have enough on your plate." Pomona said closing her folder, "It can wait."

"No dear." Minerva gently reached out, placing her hand upon Pomona's. "It cannot. As Filius will not have the same pull with the Board. If this is something you would like to add prior to next term year or even over the next three years; I'll need to back the proposal."

"Then…you really are not going to return next year." Pomona quietly breathed. She and Filius had spoken about the topic, many times, but to hear Minerva speak of it…so…business like. Like…she was merely taking a sabbatical or retiring…

"No." Minerva quietly replied, "Even if I am…here." She felt Pomona squeeze her hand as tender brown eyes gazed upon her. "I will not be in any condition to be the Headmistress."

"We can…"

Minerva shook her head, "It would not be fair to Filius nor to Hogwarts or me. Life is change Pomona." She pulled her hand back, "You know this better than anyone."

Gravelly she nodded her head, "I just…can't believe, Minerva. You look as you have always looked, and Filius stated that you are having difficulties at the end of the day after having cast several spells, but…it never shows. In short," A sad acceptance laced her eyes, "I've been in denial. And probably would still be…if you hadn't left the quidditch match last weekend. I don't think I've ever seen you leave a game early, especially when Gryffindor has been playing."

"I have not been doing well for some time, and it is becoming harder to hide it." Minerva admitted.

"Then turn over some of Hogwarts' duties to Filius and I will take up some of the Deputy's duties."

"I have reallocated a few items to Filius, but I will continue to do my job Pomona. Because, if I cannot, then I need to appoint Filius and step down."

"Minerva you are being foolhardy…"

"Perhaps." Emerald eyes twinkled, "Now, back to matters of business." She stated, re-directing their conversation back to why Pomona was here. She didn't want to dwell on the future, for there was far too little to keep her outlook positive as it was…let alone to think about her imminent death in less than a year. "I will be meeting with the Board of Governors the second week in January, and if you can have a proposal along with the outline for the curriculum by the end of the first week giving me ample time to review and come back to you with questions."

"That won't be a problem." Pomona replied.

"And I see that Mr. Nysh has had four detentions in the past two weeks."

Pomona sighed. Minerva was still…Minerva, and despite her personal problems, which were as equal in height as the parapet in the Astronomy tower, she remained the formidable woman she had known for decades…and the Headmistress of Hogwarts. And as the Headmistress, she was to go over the various students under Pomona's charge…and Pomona shifted her weight, getting herself comfortable; because she was going to be there for some time.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harry shrugged off his cloak, enjoying the warmth that seemed to immediately soak into his skin. The air had changed the last two weeks, and it had gone from cool to cold.

"Hey, honey." Ginny said stepping around the corner, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips at seeing her husband. A few sprinkles of snow melting in his unruly hair, hint of red across his cheeks… "How was work?"

He hung up his cloak, "Interesting. And your practice?"

"Ryla announced she is not returning next year." Ginny replied as Harry stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. "Apparently, she's been thinking about it for some time."

"I'm sure the fall last week didn't help matters." He rumbled before kissing her lips.

"No." She murmured reluctant to leave Harry's warmth. "She's putting up a good front, but she can hardly move after practices. Her back is really stiff."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they moved towards the kitchen, "She did break five ribs and four vertebrae, it's a wonder she is even on a broom this week."

Ginny sighed at seeing the door to the fridge partially open. "Sirius!"

They both heard a set of scrambling footsteps upstairs, "Sorry, mum!" He yelled as he tore through the hallway and through the opposite door, drawing to a halt at seeing his dad. "Dad, your home."

Harry stepped away from Ginny and reached over pulling his son into a hug. "Sorry I haven't been home earlier in the evening, son."

"That's okay." He borrowed into his dad's shoulder.

Harry kissed Sirius' mess of black hair, "It should get better soon, alright?"

Sirius nodded, "Yeah." He drew back, "Anything exciting happen? Did you and uncle Ron have to face a dragon?"

Harry chuckled, "No, that would be your uncle Charlie. However, there was a rather unusual event at the Ministry."

Ginny paused in pulling the milk out, concern lacing her features. "Unusual?"

Standing fully upright, Harry nodded while turning enough to see Ginny too. "It seems that given the right spell, the Ministry can become a microphone and telecast an entire conversation."

"Like one of Uncle George's extendable ears?" Sirius asked, curious.

"No ears were needed, it was broadcast so everyone could hear it."

"Cool." Sirius remarked. "Did the Minister make some kind of announcement that he wanted everyone to hear?"

"No…"

"Don't tell me Harkiss…" Ginny absently shut the refrigerator door.

"It involved the Headmistress and the Minister." Harry said, eyes flashing to his wife…whose blue eyes widen immediately as her mouth formed an 'O'.

"Aunt McGonagall?" Sirius questioned. "What did she say?"

"That she was going find a replacement for him."

"Can she do that?" Sirius asked, frowning.

Ginny and Harry's gazes remained locked, the seriousness of what Harry had just stated lost upon the young boy. Ginny mouthing, 'Did she really?'

Harry's shoulders sunk and Ginny closed her eyes; the answer telling. There was going to be a war between the Ministry and Hogwarts…

Sirius absently nodding, oblivious regarding his parent's silent conversation, continuing his own thoughts concerning his Aunt…and how…she seemed to know, everyone. And everyone…seemed to know her. "You know…I think…maybe she could."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Over a hundred pair of eyes watched as the Headmistress tiredly picked up her hat in her left hand as she palmed the walking stick in her right; the definitive click echoing across her office as she made her way across the room…and as the door snapped close, the eyes immediately descended upon Everard.

Albus' voice quietly demanding…and everyone else's falling away, as his question was slowly asked. "What happened?"

"Surely you know." Everard stated back in response.

"I have not had the opportunity to speak with her in private since her return, however, we have all heard rumors of what occurred."

"I doubt the rumors would do it justice."

"I don't know." Phinneas drawled, "She's the only person whom I've ever seen that matches your style, Dumbledore."

Dily's brow arched, "High marks Phinneas."

Phinneas turned to Everard, "Did she disappoint?"

Slowly his mouth quirked before shaking his head, "No, Phinneas. She did not."

"Is it true that the Minister's office has been turned to ash?"

"Save for my portrait…" Everard stated and began to regale them with what occurred…and as the story progressed, Albus' shoulders and face fell proportionally. The eyes of the portraits slowly gravitating towards him…until all eyes were upon him…waiting.

The silence stretched on for several seconds, before Dily's finally asked what everyone else desired to know. "How is she?"

"You know as well as I." He cryptically replied.

"Albus." She quietly pushed.

Blue eyes whirled upwards, pinning her with his stare. "Dilys…"

"We are bound to her, Albus. And even after, we cannot discuss what was said unless it has been authorized or relevant to Hogwarts. However, we are _concerned._"

Albus thought back to this morning and the overwhelming feelings coursing through him, "She's exhausted and…weak."

"Weak as in…fatigue or magical?" Snape questioned, black eyes drilling into blue ones.

The faint ticking clock was the only sound within the Headmistress' office as they waited. Albus held Severus' gaze for three minutes until his eyes fell away, and he reached up and pulled his glasses away. "Both."

"How weak?" Severus wishing for a large glass of cold mead, perhaps two or three…to help erase the horrifying thought he just had.

"This morning…when we 'touched', her magic had been supplemented by Hogwarts. And again this afternoon, I felt the bond pulse when she cast the spells."

"Will she be able to defeat Harkiss?"

"It'll take everything…" He swallowed, abhorring the thought of their duel and the pain he, in conjunction with Minerva, would be riddled with too. "We both have."

"You didn't answer my question Albus." Severus quietly interjected.

"That's because," Eyes rarely displaying emotion, were now sparkling with unshed tears. "Neither of us knows."

* * *

oxox

* * *

George hesitantly raised his hand to knock, when an all too familiar voice rang out behind him.

"He isna home."

George whipped his head around, "Rory." He frowned, "I thought you were supposed to still be taking it easy."

"Aye, but I was needin' to check upon a few things." Grey eyes scanned blue ones, "What are you doing up here? Not that I mind, but…I dunno believe it is a social visit."

"It's regarding McG."

At once, Rory's face turned serious. "Is she alright?"

George nodded, "Yes, but…she and Kingsley had a row today…"

Rory shrugged, shoulders immediately beginning to relax. "That is practically a daily event."

"Not in public."

Rory felt his breath hitch. "How public?"

"She broadcast it across the whole of the Ministry."

Grey eyes fluttered close, "Merlin Minerva, why canna you get hold of your bloody temper." He murmured.

"I don't think her temper should be our primary concern."

Inwardly he cringed while blinking his eyes open, "Why?"

"She publically stated she would ensure he was removed from office."

"Dammit!" He snapped gritting his teeth, knowing that he still had the whole of the northern ridge to walk. "She is making it near impossible."

"I'm sure she had her reasons." George stated.

"Aye." He ran a hand through his peppering hair, "Kingsley has been pushing her for months, and it was bound to happen." He sighed, "The timing however, leaves a wee bit to be desired."

"Why?" George asked trying to understand Rory's statement.

"I have…obligations that will preclude me from helping her until the week before the holidays and she will need help as her resources are stretched beyond thin because of Johannes."

"I think I may be able to assist her in finding a new Minister."

Grey eyes sparkled, "Really?"

An easy smile spread across George's face, "Yes. As I was thinking of nominating my father."

"Arthur." Rory murmured nodding, "He is a good man…and a wise choice."

"Do you think McG would support him?"

There was a long poignant pause as Rory thought of his dear friend, and her beliefs. "Aye. I do." He stepped closer, hand reaching outward and coming to rest upon George's shoulder. "But talk to Helena." George narrowed his eyes in question and he expanded his answer. "She is far more political than Minerva, and if she is willing to support your father…publically, then he has a chance."

"Do you think she'll resist a movement to remove Kingsley?"

"Ya still have much ta learn." Rory replied.

George frowned, "I know that Helena and McG are close but I wouldn't think that one would follow the other or vice versa based solely upon their friendship."

"Aye, you're right about that." Rory squeezed his shoulder before letting his hand fall away, "They have stoutly different beliefs on several topics, however, they are also two of the most tenacious persons I've met. And love the other as a sister." Rory's face became somber, "They willna always agree, nor will they ever not help the other. Kingsley has been makin' Minerva's life hell these past months and while Minerva hasna done anything to stop it…it doesna mean Helena is happy or supportive of the Minister. She owled last evenin' regardin' a meeting with Milan."

"Milan Peoples?" George's disbelief evident. It was near impossible to get a meeting with Milan, unless _she _sought you out; even the Malfoy's couldn't get to her.

"Aye, she was an old friend of Minerva."

"Is there anyone McG doesn't know?"

A wry smile curled the corners of his chiseled lips, "There isna many people across the Isle that she doesna know."

"And I would harbor a guess that most would be at the very least friends."

"A few ta be sure." He quipped.

"And Milan would assist Helena?"

"Aye, Helena was quite close ta her; however…" Rory paused, knowing of the discord that developed between Milan and Minerva and subsequently Helena. "There musta been a damn good reason for the owl."

"Issues with Minister?"

"If Helena knows half of what Kingsley has done of late, then…aye…that could'va been 'nough."

George felt a measure of tension ease off his shoulders, it didn't appear that he would alone in trying to assist Minerva oust the pompous ass of a man. "Thanks."

"Nah, thank you." A smile lighting grey eyes, "Fancy a walk before ya head back to the low country?"

George slipped his hands into his dragon hide jacket and turned to the rolling landscape. "Thought you'd never ask."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione winced as she picked her body back up off the floor. She had been at it for almost two hours with Filius; and she had not been able to cast more than two successive spells against him before she would be hexed, cursed, bound, and whatever other spells one could fit into that category. He had been lightening fast yesterday, however…it was nothing compared to today. She was having difficulty believing that she was dueling the same wizard. He was…unbelievable. It was like…she was dueling Minerva.

"Once more?" Filius rocked forward on his heels, traces of humor lighting his eyes.

Hermione sighed, "Last time." She murmured, mind still upon the venerable woman. She was hoping to catch her this evening before she retired and apologized for last night. She had tried three different times, other than meal times, to see her…without success. It was as though she could transfigure into the wind.

He nodded, and both stepped forward. As one, they bowed…and then…they were off…

Hermione flipped her wand, a hex springing forward. Filius easily negating the effect of the spell and then…he whipped his wand in an arcing motion…

Hermione deflected his body binding spell…mind still partially upon whether or not Minerva had remained within Hogwarts this evening as she cast a spell back.

Filius conjured a protego charm and felt the percussion ripple across him from the strength of the spell and he curiously glanced to the seemingly half engaged witch speculating what was going on in the younger woman's mind…and as he threw another binding hex towards her…he wondered what it would take to get her to tap into wherever her mind had drifted to…regularly.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva stepped from the floo network, exhausted. She loved spending time with her family, but as of late, it had become nothing short of tiring. While she understood their worries and concerns regarding her welfare; it did not do for her to worry them further…as they would find out soon enough. But, it made it hard for her to…keep up the pretense, especially late in the evening when she was the most tired. Kat and Cal were priceless as always, and she would not trade any moment away from them...however, she had to remember to drink a pepper up potion before she went and if she continued to weaken at her current rate of decline, she would need to take an additional potion while at the children's.

With a glance, she noted that it was just before eleven and while she needed to go to bed, because tomorrow would be anything but peaceful…she didn't want to. Milan had forwarded an early 'copy' of the headline from the front page of tomorrow's Daily Prophet. A picture of her stalking across the Ministry towards Kingsley was placed beneath the caption…

** 'McGonagall to oust Shacklebolt from office?'**

Add that to the situation with Aegis…and it was everything Minerva could do to remain focused.

"Helena was hoping to speak with you." Dilys stated as Minerva stepped around the desk.

"Kingsley has moved my portrait." Everard remarked.

"Harry would also like to speak with you this evening." Severus stated with disdain.

"Griphook…"

"Please." Minerva turned to the infamous wall, holding up her hand and waiting until the murmurings died away; her tired voice ringing against the stillness. "Not tonight." She shook her head, "I…can't. They need to…wait." She couldn't deal with anymore responsibilities nor demands this evening; she was too tired. Too overburdened. And on the verge of permitting herself to become, numb. She just…couldn't take anymore.

Albus' worry increased exponentially as his eyes met hers, diverting the topics to a far more personal one. "How are the children?"

Green eyes snapped to blue ones, "Well." A light burst from the depths of her eyes, "I believe Kat may have inherited your aptitude in necessary sweet intake."

A rich chuckle erupted from his lips, "I knew if I ate enough lemon drops or chocolate truffles it would have the desired consequence." Yet as he had spoken, the light had already begun to fade from her eyes, shoulders sinking.

"It has." Minerva replied feeling the weight of the office press upon her in equal measure as her family had done for the bulk of the evening. She peeled her hat off, banishing it to her rooms. Her magic pulling from the simple spell, causing a soft sigh to slip past her lips.

"Why don't you get some rest?" Albus gently suggested. "It has been a long day, and tomorrow is not shaping up to be…"

"Dismal." Minerva snapped, agitated at the way her fatigue mirrored her magic…at herself for the episode at the Ministry this afternoon; at how Tessa and Percival both _knew_ what was best for her…willing to damn Hogwarts and the whole of the wizarding world…and at the very real, very horrid fact of what tomorrow would bring. "Not only will I have to deal with…" Minerva held up her copy of the Daily Prophet, "_This…_but also the ramifications from it." Disgusted, she threw it back down on her desk, "And the last thing I have time for is another four hour meeting with the Board, let alone the hundreds of letters I'll have to wade through after breakfast from the damning article."

Snape cleared his throat, the portraits eyed him…surprised at his _willingness _to interject. "I daresay, it will be closer to the thousand mark, Minerva as you well know. And whether intended or not, it had need to be done."

Minerva immediately jerked her gaze to her predecessor's portrait. "Needed…perhaps. Do I have the stamina? No."

"You will find a way." Dilys' stated reassuringly.

"I don't know if I can." Minerva brokenly replied. "As each of you know, I am…" She sighed dropping her head for a moment before tear filled eyes lifted to meet blue ones. "_We_ are exhausted and there is only so far that I have left to push before I too will regale you with my presence full time. Now," She continued on over the murmuring. "Were there any messages that cannot wait till morning?" Minerva remained for a heartbeat before heading towards her living suite, gingerly ascending the stairs.

Fifteen minutes later, Minerva was striding through the inner hallways, needing to escape her office, her personal suite…both held far too many memories and before she knew it…she was standing in front of Godric's portrait.

"She is awake if you wish to speak with her."

Minerva blinked, recognition dawning as to where _she_ was and _who_ he was referencing. She was already shaking her head, "No…I…"

A knowing smile slipped across his face, "Our feet tend to carry us where we need to be."

"Old habits."

He gave a nod, "True, however, seeking solace in places of comfort is wise." He tipped his head towards the room, "She will understand."

Minerva pondered his statements and the dueling nature of her own thoughts. She was woefully tired, exhausted even…but the last place she wanted to be was alone, in her rooms with her thoughts and memories. Yes, Albus was and always would be a tremendous comfort, but…he brought very little in the way of something new. Something to pull her mind away from all that sought to occupy it. He had been, in essence, frozen…no longer able to conduct research, seek and be counsel for friends, visit family…merely exist through a portal of portraits and everyone thought he was a rather 'strange' portrait, but it had been easily attributed to his enigmatic personality in life. However…it made their conversations growingly more difficult; as his knowledge, while formidable, was limited to a time before his death. He would have Elgin flip the pages of the Transfiguration Journal so he could skim the contents, but that tended to be sporadic…and only one journal.

And it made evenings like tonight…even harder. He hated not being able to hold her and not being able to murmur his love to her before making her forget about their worries for even a moment; and she felt his frustration…making her own, worse.

"If she is awake, and willing to spend a few minutes with company; that would be agreeable." Minerva finally stated, knowing that her own fatigue would make it impossible for her to spend longer than a half hour.

Before she could have a measure of second thoughts, the latch clicked open; Godric granting her entry.

"Thank you." Minerva quietly stated as she stepped into her old rooms. The décor having changed, but…there was a feeling of…sanctity that swept over her.

Hermione tied her belt, fastening her robe as she strode through the living room and into her study. "Is everything alright?" She asked, concerned.

Minerva immediately took a step backwards as the younger woman stepped around the corner; obviously preparing to retire for the evening. "I am sorry to have disturbed you Hermione."

"I was reading." Her feet quietly padding closer to the other woman. "Actually, it would be more apt to say, re-reading a rather fascinating journal."

"Was there anything of note?" Minerva questioned.

"Quite a bit." Hermione gently smiled, hoping to put Minerva at ease. "Would you like some tea?"

Minerva shook her head mentally berating herself for even coming in, she should have just gone to the Room of Requirement or even the teacher's lounge for some solitude. Hermione, while gracious, and ever the constant friend was not Helena, nor Rory…and she would not infringe… "I'll be going." She feigned a smile, "I'm truly sorry for rousing you." She turned around and was about to open the door when she heard the rustling movement sweep behind her, a gentle hand rest upon her arm and the smell of almond with a hint of vanilla rush across her.

"Minerva, you are welcome here." Her voice rumbled, "Anytime." Hermione's movements causing the other woman to turn partially around, before her hand fell away. Brown eyes searched green ones, and the last several months in conjunction with the years of knowing the mysterious woman had taught her that the truth of her emotions lay with those emerald gems. This evening was no different. There…buried in the depths was a mixture of sorrow, fatigue and…something far more troubling than either of those…defeat. "Please…stay for just one cup." She whispered, "You came here…obviously for a reason…"

"One cup." Minerva relented, "At which point I'll probably be dead upon my feet."

"One cup it is." Hermione replied, wondering what had caused Minerva to stay; and why she had come in the first place. "Would you prefer the living room or the study?"

Minerva silently preferred the study, however, she would not be able to withstand the chill upon the air for long. "Is there a fire within your living room?"

"Yes, Milksy stoked it less than an hour ago." Hermione replied, silently berating her thoughtlessness. Minerva was still sensitive to the cold. Probably far more than she lets on… "Milksy." She stated and was surprised to see the light toned house elf already beside her.

"Miss Hermione? What can…" She paused at seeing Minerva, "Mistress."

"Good evening, Milksy." Minerva leaned upon her walking stick.

"We were hoping you could rustle up some tea." Hermione stated.

At once her ears bobbed, "Kind?"

"Lemon." Hermione turned to Minerva, "And…?"

"Chamomile would be greatly appreciated."

"At once." And she was gone.

"I thought Milksy was one of your house elves?" Hermione paused just inside the doorway.

"She is," Minerva stated, "However, it is quite rare for anyone outside of Tily, Elgin or Bonnie to assist me."

"She respects you a great deal." Hermione stated, "All of your house elves do."

"And I them." Minerva gingerly stepped around the side of the sofa; easing herself into the cushions, immediately feeling the pressure dissipate along her hip and lower back. She felt Hogwarts' magic pulse and without thought, she reached out, steadying the platter of tea Milksy arrived with.

"Thank you, Mistress." Milksy murmured while setting the tray down. "Was there anything else I'se gets?"

"We'll be fine," Hermione reaching for a tea cup as she sat down opposite of Minerva. "Thank you."

Milksy turned to Minerva, "Ands for you'se?"

"No thank you."

With a bow, she vanished and left the two women alone.

Hermione quietly poured herself a cup of tea, Minerva doing the same before leaning back into the sofa, her eyes drifting towards the rumbling fire. The seconds stretched on…

"The last note within the journal seems incomplete, why?" Hermione shifted, hoping her question would rouse a response.

Minerva barely turned to her…eyes remaining fixed…

And Hermione waited.

And waited.

Her eyes drawn to the familiar lines of Minerva's jaw, the way the light flickered across her high cheekbones…the way she seemed lost within her brilliant mind…and she idly wondered what it would take to draw Minerva out of her ruminations; and if she could be drawn out. That was one area, she believed herself to be very similar to the woman across the way; introspective. Her eyes involuntarily dropped to partially drawn lips; and her face flushed as she thought of a way that would irrevocably pull Minerva to the present.

And Hermione's brain stopped.

_Had she just thought…about kissing…the Headmistress…Minerva?_

It took every ounce of self control not to blanch at her own thought, nor…at the successive ones that slid unbidden through her mind.

_Would her lips be soft? Would it be like kissing Ron? Angelina? Ian? Better? Worse?_

And then Minerva's lips pulled apart; and Hermione's breathe caught. Her thoughts were mercifully saved as Minerva's voice broke the stillness.

"I just…needed someplace…different for a while." Minerva whispered, "Thank you." She set her saucer and tea cup down.

"Are you sure you're alright, Minerva?" Hermione questioned, leaning forward and dispelling the last of her previous thoughts. She'd sort those out, later. Much later. "Did something…" A low chuckle erupted from her lips at the irony of her statement. "Else happen?"

"It's irrelevant." Minerva sighed, standing. "As it is well beyond anyone's control, especially mine."

Hermione stood, brows furrowing. "What happened?"

Minerva took a step, stopping for a moment beside Hermione, her long fingers reaching out to brush across her forearm. "Kingsley, the floo, listening devices, and my temper." She squeezed Hermione's arm, "I will see you tomorrow," A gentle…reassuring smile lifted her face as her hand fell away. "Good-night."

"Is there anything I can do?" Hermione asked, following.

"Short of performing over two thousand memory charms; I'm afraid not."

"It can't be that bad."

Minerva's brow quirked at Hermione's comment, causing her worry to exponentially increase. "Milan was kind enough to send me an advance copy." Minerva stopped at the door, fingers upon the handle. "I will merely say that I have removed you and Ronald indefinitely from the front page." She gave a shake of her head, indicating that she did not wish to talk about it. "I'll ask Elgin to bring down the advance copy."

Brown eyes scanned green, "You're sure you're alright?"

"For now." Minerva easily replied, "Get some sleep." She opened the door, "And thank you again for the moment of respite."

"Any time, Minerva." Hermione whispered as the Headmistress stepped into the hall, the faint outlines of a door immediately becoming prevalent across from Godric's portrait. "And please, listen to your own advice."

Minerva's head tipped back around, silently asking for clarification.

"Get some sleep." Hermione watched as the elder witch's face momentarily transformed, a smile lighting her eyes as she shook her head and within seconds disappeared behind the stone wall and from her sight. Hermione remained rooted to the spot, wondering what had come over her.

_ What had she been thinking earlier?_

A soft crack resonated from within her room; and she turned to see Elgin holding a folded paper outwards. "Mistress asked for you to have this."

Closing the door, Hermione took the proferred paper. "Thank you, Elgin."

He gave a nod and his white hair shifting; "She'se angered the Minister."

Hermione opened the paper, the headline screaming at her.

**'McGonagall to oust Minister from office?'**

Pictures of a petrified Minister of Magic and a furious Headmistress took up the whole of the page; save for a small corner that showed what remained of Kingsley's office with Minerva's quote beneath it. "A new Minister calls for a new office…"

"Angered?" Hermione breathed with a heavy sigh. "She's done more than anger him, Elgin."

Yellow eyes blinked up at her, "She'se cannot takes on the Ministry too." He swallowed, not wishing to divulge his Mistress' business, but knowing that something had to change before his Mistress was no longer. "She'se even said so."

Hermione's gaze was immediately drawn to him, "What do you mean, Elgin?"

A large tear slipped off his droopy lashes. "She'se…mentioned it to….before now regarding Mister Kingsleys. She'se hasn't done something befores, because she'se too tired."

"And this afternoon happened because…her temper slipped?"

Elgin knew that this afternoon had been caused by a series of events; one being this morning when the Master and Mistress had joined again…if only for a moment. They used to be able to hold the bond together for most of the day; but her magic was too weak…and she too tired. And there was the whole affair regarding Mister Black, Gringott's…the family – he felt his ears fall at the mere thought of how her family had been as of late. "She'se…is tired. And there has only been more and more stress, with no's breaks."

"And she can't talk with Helena right now because of Harold."

Elgin shook his head, "Blondie's not happy with the Minister either; but neither one talks about it."

"Harold."

He gave a solemn nod. "Yes."

"How much will this increase Minerva's correspondence?"

"It'se makes yours seem paltry."

"Good thing I like you Elgin."

He frowned, "Miss Hermione's?"

"Can you bring her letters here for the next few days?"

"I'se cannot without her approval."

"Can you delay them until my free period and lunch?"

He narrowed his eyes, nodding slowly, knowing that she was up to something. "I'se can."

"Thank you."

"I'se don't understand how's that helps."

"I'll go up during my free periods and assist her in responding to her correspondence."

He sighed, "She'se not going to like that."

"Do you have any other idea?"

"Helps gets a new Minister."

"I'll call Helena and speak with her; however, please do not deliver her post until my free periods."

"Very well." Elgin stated and was gone.

Hermione's eyes drifting back to the front of the paper.

The way Minerva stalked forward…as though going after a prey…the way her eyes narrowed becoming predatory…

And…the man in photograph trying to move backwards…fear readily apparent in his eyes…

Minerva had definitely removed her and Ron from the front page, in flamboyant fashion. Brown eyes dropped to the lines of Minerva's mouth…and she couldn't get the image of her sitting across from her, the way the firelight flickered across her face…her lips…

With a shake of her head to dispel her foolish notions, she headed off to bed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and she needed to get some sleep to help curtail her over active imagination.

* * *

Oxox

_

* * *

_

_A/N: Here's the next segment, a little later than I had planned; however I do hope you enjoyed._


	45. Chapter 43 November 24th, 2009

**Chapter 43 ~ November 24****th****, 2010 (Tuesday)**

To say that her nerves had been growing all day would have been an understatement. And the one person who she could share her concern with had been mysteriously absent from Hogwarts. Not that she wasn't at the castle, just...utterly and totally unavailable. It was days like today that cemented Hermione's belief in one of the fundamental Head of Hogwarts job characteristics; ability to be like the wind, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Minerva exemplified that notion today.

Hermione's stomach jolted and she set her napkin a top her plate, she couldn't bring herself to eat anything else. Her nerves…were just too wound up.

"Late lunch?" Aurora asked before biting a mouth full of asparagus.

Hermione shook her head, "Just not very hungry this evening."

"…o…ou…" The astronomy professor swallowed, "Sorry." She cleared her throat, "Do you need to see Poppy?"

Finishing the last of her apple juice, Hermione set down her cup. "No. I have been staying up late the last few nights and getting up early, and eating in accordance." She leaned back, "I'm sure it has to do with that."

Aurora nodded, "You know…"

Hermione's eyes drifted to the eerily empty Head of Hogwarts seat, wondering where Minerva had vanished to for the umpteenth time…and if they were to leave following dinner…would she be ready?

Aurora paused, brown eyes drifted apologetically back. "I'm sorry, Aurora."

"I saw her this weekend," She replied, eyes flashing to where Minerva typically sat. "She seemed to be weathering the onslaught from the Prophet quite well."

Hermione feigned a smile, nodding. "Yes, she does." However, knowing that the truth rested somewhere between the two. She had gone to assist Minerva on Friday before lunch, to find her office literally packed over a foot high across the floor with letters; three howlers going off at once, Filius and Minerva standing before three members of the Board of Governors…

She met Minerva's burning gaze and knew that was not the time to speak with her, but the ride down the stairs, Hermione had a hard time dispelling the suddenly prevalent notion that had crept into her mind last evening; especially when her eyes sparkled a deep sea green with a hint of red flashing from her soul. She could hear Myriam's inviting voice from three weeks ago; _'I imagine her eyes would smolder a brilliant green when flared with passion.' _and Hermione found her thoughts riveted for the last twelve hours as to what it would be like to kiss Minerva and whether Myriam's assessment was accurate. She tried again after lunch…only to find a similar scene, except the faces before Filius and Minerva had changed…and the letters had gotten…deeper and if at all possible, and the howlers…louder. Her own thoughts…however, remaining unchanged, and she tried again to banish the pervasive thought.

Before dinner, she stopped again; the Gargoyle wouldn't open. She had been surprised to find Filius at dinner; however, Minerva did not attend. And as much as she had tried to assist Minerva; she had been…hard to catch up with.

It wasn't until Saturday mid-day that Hermione finally found Minerva, alone in her office; swamped with piles of correspondence and her quill scratching frantically across the parchment in response to one of the three thousand plus letters waiting to be read and replied to. Minerva had been reticent about accepting help, and it was only after Hermione promised not to write back or take anything she read to heart that she was permitted to help.

She spent the rest of Saturday and the whole of Sunday sorting Minerva's correspondence and pulling the letters that truly needed responded to. The rest…she tossed into the fire, silently wishing she could discard more, but knowing that if she did and Minerva were to learn of it; she would never accept her help again.

They worked primarily in silence, Minerva trying to remain focused on the overwhelming workload…hoping to curtail the vicious spin the Kingsley was spouting to the press. Hermione trying to ignore her sudden fascination with the contour of Minerva's lips, instead focusing on the task at hand while berating her far too over active imagination. By Sunday, Hermione's thoughts had calmed and while she still needed some time alone to sort out the source of her ruminations, they were no longer free flowing through her consciousness. Sunday's front page article in the Prophet had helped to place things back in perspective in conjunction to making her blood boil; it had inferred that Minerva and Harkiss were long-time associates and that she had been manipulating the situation to her advantage to oust Kingsley from office to her own benefit. The only saving grace to the day was the faculty's response; and the small impromptu party they had thrown for her to try and stay her spirits. Minerva had appeared as though she had an enjoyable evening, but she remained barely an hour sighting preparation for her meeting with the Head of Durmstrang the following Thursday.

Hermione had left shortly after, only to find Minerva fixed behind her desk again, quill moving at a speed that defied reason trying to widdle the piles away.

_"They'll still be here in the morning."_

_ Minerva didn't bother looking up, "As will another three hundred."_

_ "You don't honestly expect to write all of these back this evening?" A series of nods from the portraits brought the gravity of the situation home to Hermione. _

_ "Yes." Minerva curtly replied, "Or I will never get to actual Hogwarts' business."  
_

Hermione didn't say another word; she merely grabbed a basket of unsorted letters and moved to the sofa. It was just after two when they stopped. The following morning, she had forgone her standard morning ritual, opting to see if Minerva was already at work…and was disheartened to see a stack of letters sitting upon the corner of her desk waiting to be mailed. She had been at work for at least two if not three hours, and it was only a quarter past seven.

Last night was the first night she actually finished sorting, and began writing out a handful of responses. Minerva read them…and with a sigh, penned her name and sealed them. This morning…had been a replay of yesterday, although, Minerva had a pot of coffee waiting at the coffee table…for her; and the Prophet's front page remained partially neutral to both the Minister and Headmistress…a picture on the front with a jagged line between the two; the headline reading ~

**From friends to adversaries…the tragic tale**

_"Who do you think coerced the Prophet into not publishing another front page smear article about you?"_

_ Minerva continued writing, "It could be any number of persons, including…" She lifted her gaze upwards, "Me."_

_ Hermione let the paper fall to the side, enabling her to meet Minerva's deadly gaze. "You finally called the Prophet?" She asked, disbelieving. She knew from the lack of communication, the pinched look of Minerva's lips and from the handful of letters that Minerva had penned that she read; that the last several days had been difficult to bear. But, that didn't mean that Minerva would directly speak with someone at the Prophet to sway their stance._

_ "I had Tom make a call last evening." She recounted before beginning anew._

_ "Tom?" Hermione frowned; she had never heard Minerva reference anyone by the name of Tom. "Who is he?"_

_ "An old friend." Minerva stated, "Who solely operates the McGonagall whiskey line."_

_ "Why do I get the feeling that isn't widely known?"_

_ Minerva signed the letter, and with blind efficiency sealed the edge. "To the rest of the wizarding world, it appears as though it is his business."_

_ "Why…" Hermione's question went unasked, as she muttered the answer to herself. "Perception."_

_ "When my uncle died, I asked him to oversee the operations of it; with the caveat that he appear to have become the controlling partner. It made sense for all parties; as I had little knowledge in neither the industry nor the inclination to learn."_

_ "And now?"  
_

_ "He's a respected business leader in the community."_

_ "But also, your employee."  
_

_ "Rather my friend. I do own the controlling share; however, he owns forty percent."_

_ "And the call?"  
_

_ "A bit of external pressure designed to force the Prophet to be reporters of the truth, and not to write slanderous articles."_

_ "And Milan?"_

_ "I'm sure she had a hand in helping to bring the content back in line."_

_ "What has Helena…?" Hermione's voice became softer at the obvious blanch across Minerva's face. "Said?"_

_ The tip of the quill snapped against the fresh sheaf of parchment, Minerva's back instantly rigid as her jaw flexed. "We…" She eyed the tip of the quill…and slowly the broken end became pointed. "Haven't been able to talk."_

_ "Because of Harold."_

_ "To name one reason."_

Hermione bid Aurora a good evening, no longer able to dredge through any more small talk. Her mind was too fractured, thoughts spinning wildly out of control as the dreaded encounter ticked minute by minute closer.

She muttered the password to the gargoyle and once inside, she pulled her outer cloak from her robes, and with a simple flick of her wand, it became full size. She hoped to see Minerva within; however, only idle portraits and her orderly office greeted her. She took two steps in, "Do you know where Minerva is?" Her eyes glanced to the peculiar ocean clock, "We are to leave in fifteen minutes."

Hermione immediately sought Albus' portrait to find him…absent. Her eyes immediately drifted southward, to that of Severus who met her gaze with his usual disdain.

"Otherwise engaged." He drawled.

"Where?" She asked, trying to be civil.

Godric's voice resonated down, "She's within the Head of Hogwarts Room of Requirement."

"Godric!" Several portraits admonished at once, "She is neither a Headmistress nor the Deputy!"

"And if I did not believe her capable of holding that paltry secret, I would not have told her. The Heart of Hogwarts is far more sacred; and not one of you balked at her knowing."

In a huff, over two-thirds of the portraits vacated their frames; leaving a chuckling Severus to be one of the few who remained. "It seems I may finally be afforded a moment of peace."

"Glad I could help."

Black eyes swept over her, before finally nodding his approval. "You continue to impress, Granger. Now, re-enter the Gargoyle and state the password."

"What password?"

At this Godric shrugged, "Only Minerva and Filius know. It changes with each Head of Hogwarts."

"And I'm supposed to randomly guess?"

Rowena turned to Godric, "And why are we helping, her?"

"Because she is assisting Minerva."

Hermione waited, breathlessly as the two Founders stared at the other; neither seemingly giving an inch until finally a deep sigh could be heard; and at once Rowena stepped from the collective portrait and before Hermione could blink, Rowena was sitting in Albus' chintz chair.

"You are a mystery, Hermione…Granger. One I have been observing and will give benefit to Godric's assertion, however, know that _we_ are watching you."

"If you are referring to Minerva, I am only trying to help."

Blue eyes swept over her, "I admire your bravery, it suits you and is reflective of your house; however, know that the game and stakes you are playing for surpass your current knowledge."

"Given time I hope to rectify that." Hermione easily replied, while inwardly wondering exactly what Rowena had meant. After all, how much could she _still_ not know?

Godric chuckled, "Careful Rowena, she could have easily have been housed within Ravenclaw."

"I see." She stated appreciatively. "I can surmise you have already read the journal the Headmistress leant to you and of the dichotomy that exists for Masters in Transfiguration; combine hers and you shall reach the third floor."

"Thank you." Hermione's eyes involuntarily casting a final glance to the clock before her cloak swirled about her and she was stepping back into the stairwell; the stone door grinding close. "Catwolf."

The downward descent stopped and the stair immediately began ascending, past the wormy chestnut door that went to Minerva's private rooms…and stopping upon a black and gold painted door. She stared at it for a solid minute, not knowing what to do.

She felt….odd being here; intrusive. And yet…they needed to leave, very soon.

With forced bravado, Hermione raised her hand to knock but the door quietly opened to reveal soft strands of music rippling along the air. Minerva was sitting behind a large piano, back to her…and Hermione watched as her fingers deftly moved across the keys as if in afterthought…she slowed, her contralto voice ringing in discord with the melody. "Godric must think highly of you."

"Pardon?" Hermione swallowed edging closer.

Minerva finished the chord, her fingers slipping from the keys as she half turned in her seat…looking strangely older and younger all at once. Her face held a strange youthful grace, her eyes and expression however betrayed her age with her poignant gaze piercing her own. "For you to be here." The words rolling with her lilt, "There are only a handful of portraits able to deviate from protocol."

"He was the one who told me where, it was Rowena who told me how."

Minerva stood, and the youthfulness vanished, "Either way, my apologies for not being downstairs." She began making her way opposite of Hermione, her walking stick pinging against the wood. "This way." She said calling over her shoulder. "It is much faster."

"I didn't know you played." Hermione strode through the open door…and found herself standing in a small office…? The room had a secretarial desk, papers stacked, bookshelves…

"Callum taught me to play when I was but a child." Minerva was walking out of the office and Hermione followed, to find herself in Minerva's living room in her suite. The familiar décor easing her tense nerves, as Minerva stepped into her bedroom for a minute.

"You play beautifully." Hermione stated.

"Thank you." Minerva replied as she grabbed her cloak and hat…eyes pausing upon Albus' for a moment. "I don't often indulge." She stated aloud for Hermione, before whispering to Albus. "I love you."

"And I you." He continued on, "Be careful, dear."

"Indulge?" Hermione frowned, "How's doing something you enjoy indulging?"

"I will try." Minerva murmured as she spun on her cloak, and with one last look at Albus along with a deep breath she stepped from the room; her time to dally was over. "Of late I have little time, and to play…" She tucked her glasses into the hem of her robes, "Is a trade for something else." With ease, she placed her emerald hawk feathered hat atop her head.

"Spending time with family…"

"Reading a good book." Minerva interjected with a vague smile behind her eyes. "Or even a bit of sleep."

"Which I am fairly certain you have not been getting." Hermione remarked, "At least not this past weekend."

The ebony haired woman glanced up as she fastened the seam to her cloak, "I have been getting ample sleep for the past two weeks."

"If four hours is ample, I shudder to think what you deem lacking."

"It would seem less than that." Minerva quipped, "At least for most days."

Hermione fastened her own cloak, "I'm merely concerned."

Minerva waited until Hermione glanced up, "Take heed, as I will let you know when I am too tired."

Unconsciously, Hermione stepped closer, her tone softening. "And when exactly is that point? When will you admit to being too tired?" Hermione couldn't keep the words from spilling off her lips; the weeks of seeing Minerva's tired eyes when no one was looking, the way her fatigue directly affected her hip, and how she never seemed to stop to take care of herself. "Because, until now, you haven't even though there are nights you haven't slept and I can't help but wonder, why you don't take care of yourself? Why do you push so hard? And not ask for help."

"I push because it needs to be done."

"But why you? Why not defer additional items to me, Harry, Ron…?"

"I do, dear. Though it tends to be Rory and until recently Harold and at times Helena. And you, I have asked to join me on what some would say as careless exploits, but necessary all the same."

"Minerva…"

"Tonight is not the time to discuss such matters, Hermione. And while I attempt to find balance between what needs to be done and my personal health; there will be days like today that that is not the case."

"True, but you have made the exception _your _life."

"And if Rose had been murdered by a man seeking to overtake the wizarding world, would you be any less driven?" Minerva asked making the point crystal clear.

Hermione's breath hitched at the notion, "No." She finally conceded.

Emerald eyes softened, "Come, we need to leave." She held out her arm, the meaning clear; they were going to apparate.

"I thought we spoke about walking down to the gates." Hermione reached her hand out.

"I have neither the inclination nor time to deal with the Unspeakables this evening."

"They are still there?"

"And will be until Kingsley is removed from office." Minerva finished as Hermione's hand came to gently rest upon her forearm. "Hermione." She turned to the younger woman, "Thank you."

Hermione gave the cloaked arm a light squeeze, "You are more than welcome."

Minerva stared into the brown eyes for another heartbeat, relishing the warmth, the sincerity, the caring…and then she closed her eyes under the pretense of apparating, as she wished to lean into the other woman's embrace for a moment…to have someone tell her that this evening would end well…to have a moment of sanctuary…

And then she pulled the wards to her…felt the latticework's melody, easily shifted the warding, felt Hermione's hand involuntarily tighten…her magic pulse and pull, albeit mildly uncomfortable, and then they were standing in a dusty, stale aired room.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked looking around, hoping that Aegis and Lucius had not arrived before them. She wanted another few moments without Lucius; to get her bearings. While, Minerva had assured her that she would be within eyesight of Lucius and Hermione; it also meant that she would be next to Lucius for an extended period of time. Despite Hermione's personal reservations, she had squelched her misgivings and informed Minerva that she would be fine with Lucius for a short period of time. Minerva had been doubtful, stating she could go alone, and would be fine; Hermione merely redoubled her efforts in persuading Minerva that while mildly discomforted at being around Lucius did not mean that she was neither willing nor able.

"Southern Edinburgh." Minerva's eyes sweeping across the open floored store room. "A warehouse built in 1834 used for storing and aging whisky."

Hermione stopped next to a large barrel, pushing against it to feel it remain unresponsive. "It appears that there are still a few barrels here."

"Yes." Minerva vaguely noted, "Forgotten, and well aged."

"When was the last time you were here?"

"1946." Minerva whispered, "When I toured the whole of the facilities." She tipped her head towards the conveyer belt, "I closed all of the warehouses in Edinburgh."

"Why?"

A deep rich voice rumbled across the sparse room, "Meric and Katherine; her parents, were killed downstairs."

Hermione felt her breath hitch as a foreign voice danced across the air, head immediately yanking towards the noise, jaw involuntarily tightening as her eyes swept past Minerva…_feeling _the tension triple in a heartbeat, noticing the rigidity in Minerva's back, green eyes becoming predatory as her lips drew into a thin line before brown eyes rested upon the two men pulling to a stop twenty feet away.

She hadn't known what she had expected when Minerva had stated there was to be a meeting. Perhaps a rendition of their last meeting; a haggard looking, unkempt man pleading some miniscule fact that would hold little barring or concern to Minerva. She couldn't have been farther from reality. As the man standing beside Lucius, did not appear to be the same man as from several weeks ago. He…looked, quite handsome. His scraggly hair had been cut, his dark locks resting just past his collar; angular jaw, piercing blue eyes and a flowing black cloak that was of the same quality as Minerva's, Lucius', and the one she now wore. And, from the way he dressed, carried himself, it was evident who Lucius had emulated himself after…the man beside him, and the one whose intense gaze was riveted upon the woman beside her.

"Yes." Minerva drew herself upright, "They were." She absently noted that Lucius was shocked by her confirmation of Aegis' statement. "Lucius." Her tone and cadence seemingly indifferent, "Aegis." She turned to the side, "And this is Hermione Granger."

Aegis' eyes flickered to the side, taking in the younger woman; whose rich chestnut hair framed her soft face and hard, unyielding mocha eyes. She was a beautiful woman; and he could tell a powerful witch. One that did or very soon would, rival Minerva. However, those details meant little to him, but there was one…that _did _mean a great deal to him and caused him instantly to take a liking to her or perhaps, refer to her as a kindred spirit; her apparent protection or rather protective instinct of Minerva. It was evident in her body language, her eyes…and it was a feeling that Aegis understood all too well, as he still felt it now. With a tip of his head, he acknowledged her, "Hermione." And she him with equal deference.

"Aegis." Hermione succinctly replied, puzzled by the man's relaxed state; as though…he was a man who had finally come, home.

Without preamble, Minerva strode forward, her walking stick making a distinct, thud upon the floor as she moved; Aegis at once marched towards her, matching her gait. "Why now?" Minerva asked pulling herself fully upright in front of him, eyes piercing his.

"You're still the picture of beauty, Minerva." He rasped, eyes raking over her.

"Aegis." She clenched her jaw, "You asked for a meeting," A tremble lining her normally rock solid voice, and with one deft motion her walking stick morphed back into her wand and held outward. "And I have come, full filing my vow."

He raised his own, bringing it to within inches of hers. "To a love lost but forever remembered."

She tipped her wand, her words barely reaching to Hermione and Lucius. "A love sprung from the Highlands."

A glow burst outwards, "And into eternity." He finished as the glow dissipated.

"Now." Minerva's wand arm dropped like a stone, "What…" The rest of her words vanished as a silencing spell descended upon them, blanketing their words from Lucius and Hermione. And Hermione could only imagine what she was asking him as they both moved farther from she and Lucius. Her face lined with anger, his filled with contempt.

"It makes you wonder," Lucius pursed his lips as he turned to her, "What the _exact _nature is of their relationship."

"Because he knows of her past?"

"And of her children." Lucius continued on, enjoying the shock rippling across the younger woman's face. "Also that she would be willing to meet him after what he did to her brother."

Despite herself, she nodded. "_That_ has made me wonder."

Lucius' eyes turned back to the other two occupants, it was obvious that whatever had brought them together was dissolving quickly. Minerva's face was twisted in unadulterated fury as she rebuked whatever Aegis stated; and Aegis' cool demeanor had vanished as he snapped a retort back. "As have I."

"Do you have any idea what his connection is to Minerva?"

Lucius' blue eyes narrowed, he could feel the magic rippling across the room from the verbal trading occupants. "A detail Aegis and I never discussed. You?"

It panged her to have to respond similarly to him, as she knew so much and it was apparent so little regarding Minerva and her life. Even Aegis, somehow knew more of her past than she did. "Neither have I."

"Not surprising, though really." Lucius scoffed, "Minerva sharing her past…" His eyes drew to hers. "With a mudblood." He raised his brow, "Hardly. As I have every notion and belief that their history has some type of _blood_ behind it. As Aegis embodies what it means to be a pureblood."

Hermione's response was derailed as the silencing charm buckled and Minerva's harsh tone and scathing words ripped across the warehouse.

"....my brother! And you knew!"

"I told you, Minerva, it WASN'T me!"

"Then explain why he was gutted and barely alive when Rory and I arrived?"

Hermione's hand involuntarily flew to her mouth. _Gutted._

"I tried to intervene."

"Damn fine job you did of it too." She snapped.

"You have no idea what happened that night." He retorted.

"Then tell me!" Her jaw clenched fire in her eyes. "As you proclaim not to have killed him."

"I didn't!" His voice becoming soft, "I couldn't."

Hermione noticed that Lucius' breath stopped along with hers.

At this Minerva's shoulders dropped, recognizing the tone for what it was. _Defeated honesty, _as he continued on.

"Tom thought it would break your will, believing he would derive who the rest of your family was and either turn them or kill them. And he proceeded to torture Derrick every night…" Aegis paused, his eyes boring into hers, willing her to see the truth. "Trying to obtain information."

Minerva involuntarily closed her eyes, understanding why Helena said that she could do little for him except make him comfortable. His bone structure had been compromised… Her Gaelic ancestry prevalent across her words. "How many days?"

"Four." Hermione could see the tear slip from her lashes from there, her own heart aching at the solitary word. And she felt her stomach drop as he continued on. "I found out after the second day. Derrick was already dying from the wounds by that evening."

Green eyes sparked, "You healed him."

"With what I could."

"You sent the note." She stated, "Why didn't you sign it?"

"Because, Tom…made me send it. He hoped that it would lure you to him, and I wouldn't partake in it."

"Aegis…" She breathed, realizing the harrowing story was only in its infancy.

"He took my wand and used it to cast the last series of spells that would ultimately kill Derrick. Then he left, on what amounted to a fool's chase, as Derrick told him you had two daughters and a son who were still alive living in Edinburgh under the name, Wallace."

"It wasn't a fool's errand." Minerva quietly replied, "Rory's sister lived in Edinburgh."

"Was she killed?"

"Later that year."

"I'm sure Derrick didn't mean…"

"We came that night." Minerva interrupted. "You fled, why not tell me then?"

"How could I look at you and tell you that I wasn't able to save your brother? That…" He turned and paused at seeing Lucius and Hermione staring at them stock still, jaws slackened. Minerva followed his gaze, and her frown joined his and as one they both cast another series of silencing spells.

Aegis didn't miss a beat, continuing on as he turned back to Minerva. "I was directly responsible for Derrick's capture. He followed me, believing I was the one who killed Callum."

Minerva felt a sob want to erupt as she asked, "Did you?"

"No. It was Sean McDermott, Abraxas Malfoy, Rudolphus Lestrange and Severus Snape."

The last name pierced her heart, and she gasped. "Severus?"

"He didn't know." Aegis consoled, "No one did. They stopped Callum to ask his allegiance, and…"

"He fought back." Minerva whispered, recalling how head strong her son truly was. A characteristic she wished he had not gotten in spades. "And killed Sean and Rudolphus."

"After they had killed his wife."

"When did you learn…?" She had to turn away from him, "That they were going to speak with Callum?"

"The following day. I was in Persia regarding a settlement involving the Black Estate's properties and business for over two weeks. Malfoy owled me the day they went, stating he had been elated to find a possible 'candidate' with untapped potential."

"My son."

"They thought he and his wife moved here from…"

"The Americas." Minerva quietly finished, aghast.

"They were rather shocked when…" His voice trembled, "They learned he was your son."

She whirled around, "He told them?"

"They didn't believe him." Aegis still recalled Abraxas' comment that evening when he returned, his own rage barely controlled.

_"He actually thought that would save him. McGonagall. Like she would bear a child." Abraxas swirled his brandy around in his glass, "But, I will say, he 'was' one hell of a wizard."_

_ Aegis felt like someone had struck him in the gut with a stunner, "You killed him?"  
_

_ Abraxas turned his head, blond brow arching. "Of course. He wouldn't join…"_

_ "You daft fool." Aegis snapped as his own glass sailed across the air before coming to a sudden stop against the walnut walls. "He was her son."_

_ Shocked blue met stormy opaque sapphire eyes, "Are you…sure?" He stammered, "How…do you know?"_

_ "Because unlike you, I do research 'potential' candidates." Eyes blazing, "Do you have 'any' idea what she will do when she finds out 'you' killed her son? What she will do to our campaign?"_

_ He scoffed, "What can she do? She's one woman…who…transfigures match sticks into pins. And if the boy's father was any kind of man, I'm sure we'd have heard about him. I mean, he did sire a child with the woman who's as cold as ice."_

"And Abraxas?" Tear filled eyes met his, "What happened to him?"

His clear blue eyes became hazed with sorrow, "I killed him that night."

"Aegis."

"He made some disparaging remarks regarding a certain witch whom I still cared for very much."

Minerva recalled the headlines regarding Abraxas' murder, and the belief that perhaps he had been one of the Ministry's informants. Of course, the Ministry declined to comment regarding the matter. "And what did you tell Tom?"

He arched his brow, "Tell Tom? I have no idea what you are referencing, Minerva." He quipped. "Abraxas left my house that evening, and I read about his death in the Prophet the following day."

_Abraxas' arm felt leaden, "Have you lost your mind Aegis?!" He gasped in a rattling breath. _

_ Aegis jumped off the two foot brick wall, landing a few feet from the man he once called friend. "I believe I may be seeing clearly for the first time." He retorted, ignoring how his own lungs belabored the effort it took to breath._

_ "Don't tell me…" A manic laugh erupted from Abraxas' lips, "You were the bastard's father."_

_ "I can only wish to have held that honor." Aegis' eyes narrowed as he stalked forward._

_ Aegis' reply sobered Abraxas, and he sneered a retort back. "So, you rather hide in the shadows pining away for a woman who won't have you?"_

_ "She's been married for over twenty years, Abraxas. And because I did love her once." He raised his wand, "However, I let my foolish familial notions regarding purebloods drive us apart."_

_ A spark flashed behind his eyes, "Tom will…"  
_

_ "Do nothing." Aegis brandished his wand at a speed that defied reason, and Abraxas fell to the ground barely making a thud. "As you shan't live past this night." He kneeled down next to him. "And you should know, it wasn't just any bastard that married her." He turned Abraxas over to see the expression in his eyes as he told him. "Unless you believe Albus Dumbledore to be someone and something he is not…_

Minerva shook her head, it was too neat. Too perfect. He had…after all, thirty years to come up with the concoction of a story. "Then why remain in Azkaban for thirty years? Why not come forward sooner? Why not…"

He stepped forward, grabbing her upper arms with his hands to draw her closer. "Because, through my own actions and subsequent inactions, I caused their deaths, Minerva. They were your family. Meaning, they were a part of mine too. We promised and I didn't hold my end in the same regard until it was too late and they had taken something that I could never return to you. Your son." His hands fell from her side, "Azkaban was my penance." His voice becoming cold, "And it was a debt that I have more than paid for."

"Why now?" She asked, feeling so very tired…lost…drifting.

"Because I am free and while I had no intention of telling you what had happened; I realized that for you to trust me as you will need to, I had to."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"For the look of sorrow I see now."

"Is that all?" She challenged.

"No." His voice rumbled, "Despite all that has happened between us, I knew I would never hold the place I once did within your heart though I believe I shall always covet."

"I can't…" She shook her head as a trail of tears slipped off her cheeks, "…I…don't know how I'm going to put our sorted past to rest as it is. And…" She blinked up at him, "Rory…will want blood..."

"I have no care for Rory nor he me. He is but a half a man, one the world would be better to finally be rid of."

There was a loud crack and a wince passed across his face, it felt as though a whip had lashed his cheek. And as a wet oozing feeling began easing down his cheek he reached up, feeling the moisture and drawing it forward to confirm that she had in fact done what he surmised. "He was Derrick's lover and has long since become my brother."

"While I still care for you, dear. Do not equate that to what it once was."

"Nor should you assume that your story has caused you to regain that which you fractured."

Aegis reigned in his temper, "Still…so proud."

"And you…defiant."

"I told you the truth."

"And it is a convenient one, as there is no one to collaborate your story."

His jaw trembled, "Then how would I know that your children are Albus'? Your remaining daughter is Tessa O'Connell? And son Percival McDore? I kept your secret Minerva." He leaned closer, "For fifty-six years. Or did you forget that Cedrella and I were twins? That while the rest of the family disowned her after she married Septimus; she and I remained in contact…at your behest. She knew I still loved you. Knew that I had never forgiven myself for letting our fathers come between us. Did it ever occur to you why I never escaped Azkaban in the 90's? Why I remained?" He jammed up his cloak to show the faded outline of where the Dark Mark had been long ago burnt into his skin, "Because, it was safer for _you_ and your family if I remained. I would have to serve him, and I cannot tell a lie, Minerva; the temptation to leave was…more powerful than even my feelings for you as long as I was able to leave that God forsaken island, but I stayed. So…my dear, Minerva…collaborate? You say?" He let his arm fall away and the cloak absently drifted down as he continued on, "I have no one left to collaborate my _story_, as I killed the man who cast the Aveda Kedarva upon your son and he killed the men who murdered his wife and child. The men who knew of Derrick's torture are either dead or incarcerated, and would you believe _their _statements more than mine?"

Minerva stared at him for a long moment, not trusting her voice to speak. She had known that Cedrella and Aegis remained close, had encouraged it on several occasions with Cedrella. And she recalled one evening when she and Semptus shared heated words regarding Aegis and his continued correspondence with his wife. Minerva ended it by saying that he was once her lover, so if anyone knew his heart, it was her. "I am so very sorry."

"For living your life?"

"For having taken so much of yours."

"You took nothing that I didn't willingly give."

"Even so, Aegis. To have born that burden for as long as you did, willingly…"

"And are you telling me that when Septimus…was killed, that you were not supportive? That you did not pay the balance owed on the Burrow enabling Cedrella a place to raise their child? That Arthur had robes, books, and food after her death the spring of his sixth year? How you ensured that the property remained his? And then there was my nephew, Sirius and his brother Regulus. And how many others have you helped, or tried to over the years? We have both carried a burden spawned from a summer that should never have happened, but did. And it forever marked us and uniquely bound not only our lives but the lives of our families."

"That it did." She conceded as there were only a handful of times that she and Albus had truly argued and over half were regarding events that correlated back to Aegis. "But after all that has happened, why help, why now?"

"I can no longer do what I once did for you," Pain ebbing from the depths of his crystalline eyes, "But I will not let Hogwarts fall."

"Hogwarts…" She sighed, "Will be the death of all that I once held dear."

He gravelly nodded, "I worry that the world has once again gone to the brink. And from the hollowness that has taken residence within your emerald eyes and the burden weighing heavily upon your shoulders; I fear there is far more truth within your words than I wish to believe."

"Johannes seeks what Tom could not find without fracturing his soul."

"Immortality." Aegis whispered, beginning to realize the extent that Johannes would go to attain his perceived prize. "At the expense of Hogwarts…"

"He wishes to draw the magic of Hogwarts into himself."

"And Hogwarts?"

"Would be destroyed, and he…"

"Oh God." Aegis felt his heart sink, "Unlike Tom and having the ability to destroy bits of his soul; he would be…invincible."

"It would be the death of our world as we know it." Minerva acknowledged.

"Is there a way to do what he desires?"

"There is a way to pull the latticework and wards apart; and if he found an old text that dates back to the founders, there may be a spell or incantation that does what he suggests."

Blue eyes measured green ones, "There is a way, and you know of it."

"I do not know all the details, but I do know how to prevent it."

"No matter our differences," Sincerity lining his words, "Or our pasts, you must trust that I too wish what you do; and that is Hogwarts safety."

"I do; however, I cannot alter the past, Aegis."

"Nor would I wish you to." He reached out, fingers trailing across the edge of her cheekbone. "But I hope that our future holds one more moment for us before the end."

Emotion filled eyes met the others, "I'm afraid…" Her hand reached up, cupping his against her cheek. "That…tomorrow has come today; and I can no longer promise my life to another for it was forfeit long ago."

"He was right." Aegis' cadence wavered, "Johannes'…" He stepped closer, into her warmth and lavender scent; it was still as potent and intoxicating as it had been all those years ago. "Said you were dying."

Minerva didn't have to say anything, his hand slipping from her cheek and pulling her into his embrace.

"How long?" He asked against her hair.

"Long enough." She breathed into his chest and he tightened his hold for a moment, and then slowly they pulled away. Tears in both their eyes…

"So Gryffindor…" He rumbled. "I will help you stop him, but I want your assurance once this is over that you will help to clear my name."

"And you…Slytherin." She watched as a spark ignited from within his eyes, "I will." He started to nod, but she reached out staying his movement. "Aegis, there is a very real possibility that I will not live to see this through. But I will draft a statement and magically bind it."

"Who…" He cleared his throat, "Will you entrust it to?"

"It will remain within my vault, and then routed accordingly."

Slowly he nodded, "Very well."

"You do not wish to secure an unbreakable vow?"

"Do I have reason not to trust you now?" He reached into the depths of his cloak, pulling a piece of worn cloth from its depths; and handed it forward. "You are perhaps, the sole person I still do trust."

Minerva gently took the faded black cloth and with a quirked brow opened it; to feel her heart stop. There pressed between the fabric was a muggle picture of the two of them; just out of Hogwarts. They had traversed the streets of London one afternoon…she turned it over, the faded writing barely legible; but the potency behind the words having been sealed with magic…their vow to the other. His words having faded, hers…still remaining… "I will never have need to call upon this."

"Perhaps; however either way, it brought me back to you even if only for a moment. And…if luck will have it, perhaps it will bring you back to me, once more."

With a light nod, she covered the photo. "You will need to give me a week to speak with my contacts, especially Rory."

"And the Harrison's if you don't mind." Aegis countered, "As Harold is quite the adversary."

"I…may need a bit more time regarding Harold." Minerva replied as she gingerly tucked the picture into her own cloak.

He knew she was referring to the incident last week at the Ministry. "Even for you, Minerva, that was rash."

"My temper has not waned."

"No, I daresay not." He chuckled as he recalled the picture of the Minister's ashen office. "If anything it has gotten more refined."

"True." She acknowledged, "And do you have someplace to remain hidden for the interim?"

"You needn't worry about me, love." He gently replied, "I shall be fine."

"Very well." Minerva stated, "You do need to know that I am being followed by a team of Unspeakables, so if you should ever have need to meet with me again…"

"I believe for innumerable reasons, it would be better if we did not."

She gave a solitary nod, "Then…" Her eyes swept over his, "Be careful, Aegis."

"And you, Minerva. Do the same."

Minerva went to turn, but felt a hand upon her arm; and she turned only to find his lips graze across hers in the faintest of kisses before she had even time to comprehend what he had done.

"Forever beautiful." He whispered as his hand trailed across her cheek, jaw…before falling from the softness of her skin. "And will always remain."

* * *

Oxoxo

* * *

Albus closed his eyes, emotionally drained; but feeling a new peace residing in their bond. Minerva's meeting had drawn to a close, and despite her fatigue…she was safe. Everything else could be dealt with later. Shifting in his portrait, he contented himself to resting. He did not know how long she would be until she was able to return to Hogwarts, _it could be hours_ he reasoned while closing his eyes. _Besides they could both do with a bit more sleep. And as she had not been able to get as much…_he let her fatigue overtake him; one of the few ways he was still able to help her…_he might as well take the respite for what it was._

* * *

oxox

* * *

It took Lucius a few moments to realize that Aegis was moving away, his mind still riveted upon the shocking display of intimacy between Minerva and Aegis as he swept forward to join him.

"Not a word, Lucius." Aegis rumbled as he came up beside him.

Lucius complied until they arrived outside of his family's Manor. "Were you and Minerva…lovers?"

Slowly Aegis turned towards him, a steel glint lacing his blue eyes. "Minerva used to be a close friend."

"Are…were her children…" Lucius swallowed, "Yours?"

"No." He succinctly snapped, "Now, let it rest."

Lucius' hand grabbed Aegis' arm, spinning the older man towards him. "I cannot simply let it rest, Aegis. What is the nature of your and Minerva's relationship?"

A pulse resounded around them, and Lucius felt himself fly backwards. "Consider the topic out of bounds." Aegis replied while adjusting his cloak and gazing down upon the younger man. "Permanently."

Lucius stood, brushing several cutlets of grass from his cloak; "And when Johannes threatens her?"

"My main focus is protecting Hogwarts," He proclaimed, "Not its Headmistress." Trying not to recall how little her skin had changed, nor her scent…or lips…over the years.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione's world…utterly and completely…stopped as Minerva sunk into his embrace. Willingly and…with obvious familiarity. She didn't know what to believe, what to think…never in all of the years of knowing the venerable woman had she witnessed Minerva openly display…such intimacy.

_It was…_Hermione couldn't formulate what it was nor what it meant…her eyes remaining fixated upon the scene developing before her as her brain tried and failed to comprehend what she was witnessing. Hermione felt herself _want _to step forward as he whispered into her hair and she softly responded…but Lucius' muttering snapped her from her temporary state of shock as they pulled apart.

Their words exchanged between them appearing heartfelt…and for the umpteenth time that evening, Hermione felt her nerves tense as Aegis pulled a worn piece of cloth from the interior of his cloak, and handed it to Minerva. Her breath hitched as Minerva unfolded the cloth, a combination of curiosity and concern beating mutually in time.

However, as Minerva spoke…it seemed that her concern had been unwarranted, and her curiosity would remain un-satiated as Minerva spoke and tucked the garment within her own cloak, chuckles slipping from both their lips at some quiet remark.

Their sentences were shorter, and Hermione believed the dreaded meeting was blissfully ending as Minerva gave a solitary nod and turned away. Only to stare, jaw going slack as Aegis gently spun her around…and the intimate embrace before was nothing compared to the way he eased forward…brushing his lips against hers...

And Hermione's heart, ceased. Tears pressing against the back of her eyes as she stared forward…Minerva's innate response…stealing the very air from her lungs…as emerald eyes fluttered partially close.

It was funny…really. Not even three months ago, she had never even contemplated kissing another woman. Then came her birthday, George's adventurous game…and…Angelina's role or rather her soft lips…The way they had molded to her own, so unlike Ron's or Viktor's...or even Charlie's. And as ironical as that was, it held little to the notion she had contemplated not even one week ago. A notion she had not dared to think about since it had crept into her consciousness. Yet, one that her own consciousness seemed unwilling to let rest as it plagued her thoughts. Plagued her dreams…and she couldn't help wanting to be where Aegis was now. If only for a moment.

To know if her lips were as soft as Angelina's…or perhaps softer. Did they taste of ginger or perhaps lemon from her tea?

And…then she blinked…trying to reign in her emotions as she realized Aegis was striding away from Minerva. Lucius appearing as shocked as she, before he roused himself and quickly followed the elder wizard; leaving the two women alone.

Hermione's thoughts still jilted as she strode forward, trying not to imagine herself doing the truly unthinkable. Kissing…or rather _wanting _to kiss Minerva McGonagall. "Minerva?" She forced the word from her strangely constricted throat. "Are you alright?"

Slowly emerald eyes blinked and became focused upon the woman before her, "Quite." She murmured, feeling…as though her world had been turned upside down. "Though, perhaps…a drink." She mindlessly transfigured her wand, "Or two." She began numbly walking forward towards the exit, and after several steps…paused when she noted that Hermione had yet to join her, gazing over her shoulder. "Did you care to join me?"

Hermione nodded, "Huh…yeah." She started walking, "Is there some place close?"

"A short jaunt." Minerva replied and with ease, slipped her hand through Hermione's arm and before Hermione could process what Minerva had done, she felt tendrils of comforting music wash over her and the next step they were striding onto the sidewalk just off George's street. Minerva's hand had already slipped away as she veered onto George's; "Have you ever had the opportunity to frequent The Witchery?"

Hermione's brow rose, "The Witchery?" She shook her head, "No. I'm afraid I don't know much about Edinburgh or any of the local magical restaurants."

A light chuckle slipped from Minerva's lips, "It's a muggle one, dear."

Surprise flashed across her face, "Really?"

Minerva's eyes sparkled with amusement, "Yes. It's called 'The Witchery by the Castle'."

"Are you sure it's not owned by wizarding folk?"

"Rather Natalie Weaver's muggle brother, Robert Thompson. He started the restaurant thirty years ago this past October." She nodded ahead, "Just there."

"Along Edinburgh's Castle." Hermione's eyes following the lines of the diminutive castle compared to Hogwarts; but gorgeous none the less.

They both entered the restaurant and were greeted by the warm atmosphere and soft lights along with the Hostess. "Ma'am." The hostess stated to Minerva and then turned to Hermione. "Ma'am. Two?"

"Yes." Minerva stated and in one deft motion, her cloak was slipping from her shoulders and Hermione was dumbfounded for the second time in less than an hour, this time regarding her attire. Somehow, she had…transfigured her robes into a long dark green evening gown, with a scoop neck and flowing velvet arms…that created a V past her wrists. With elegant ease, Minerva handed her cloak to the Hostess before turning expectantly to Hermione.

Hermione's expression held her reservations; she wasn't dressed to be there. Not that she was dressed poorly; however, her attire was not appropriate. Not that Minerva's had been when they left…but…somehow she had transfigured her robes into…a gorgeous muggle dress. With a shaky hand, she unfastened her seem to find…her own robes transfigured in an elegant cyan silken pant suit with a matching long-sleeved top with a cutting V along her neck line and fitted waist. She handed her cloak to the Hostess, eyes remaining upon Minerva who merely quirked her brow before turning to the waiting Hostess.

"This way." She stated.

They walked through the restaurant, and seated in the original 'Witchery'; with spectacularly painted gilded ceilings, and seated in a small table by the crackling fire with red leather chairs and linen tablecloths.

"Have you been here before?" Hermione questioned pulling her seat in.

"A time or two." Minerva replied as she slid her seat forward.

"When and how did you transfigure our robes?" Her curiosity barely restrained as she reached for her menu.

Minerva opened hers, a soft sigh eschewing forth as she tried focusing on the abysmally small writing. Without thought she reached across the menu and unfastened the dainty gold chain along her wrist and with a subtle shake of her hand, the chain vanished into a pair of square gold rimmed glasses. She paused, just before donning her glasses, eyes peering into brown ones. "A hint of magic, dear."

"I'd say." Hermione tilted her head to the side, "More than a hint. I didn't see you pull out your wand."

Minerva's eyes flashed to her walking stick and back, "For simple things, it works fine just as it."

"But how…" Hermione noticed a stout black-haired man walking towards them, and she deftly shifted the conversation. "Are their appetizers?"

"Good evening, Ladies." He stated drawing beside them, before a genial smile crossed his face and olive eyes flashed in recognition. "Lady McGonagall, a pleasure."

At once Hermione glanced up.

Minerva peered at the waiter over her glasses, "Thank you Eric, and how are you this evening?"

"Well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Better after a nip of 1939 MaCallan."

"And for yourself Ma'am?" Eric asked turning to the stunning brown haired woman opposite of the esteemed Lady McGonagall.

"The same." Hermione stated, wondering what MaCallan was.

Eric paused for a moment and then gave a nod; before vanishing to retrieve their drink order.

"A time or two." Hermione closed her menu as did Minerva. "I believe your description is as fitting as the one you gave regarding your family's library."

A coy smile quirked Minerva's lip. "It would seem."

"And how are you able to cast spells with…" Her eyes darted to Minerva's walking stick. "That?"

Minerva reached up, pulling her glasses off and before Hermione could see the spell, she was folding the chain back around her wrist. "While you seem to forget dear, I have been around for some time and have learned to cast a variety of spells wandlessly."

"Including a silencing spell." Hermione murmured appreciatively.

"Yes." Minerva shifted her gaze back to Hermione, "One I have found both necessary and quite useful."

"Extremely." Hermione agreed, "And when did you have time to alter our clothes or cast the spell?"

"Upon leaving the warehouse." Minerva stated, her eyes peering deeply into Hermione's. "You have the skills to do as I; you merely need to focus on refining them. I…had to alter my focus during Grindlewald's reign of terror and became adept at transfiguring items upon my person."

"There is very little recorded during your time as an Auror, what was your primary occupation?"

"Officially, a rescue team behind enemy lines. Unofficially," A haunted expression raked across her eyes, "We also captured or eliminated Grindlewald's followers."

"And how often was it the latter versus the former?"

"Too often." Minerva cleared her throat, "But that was a life time ago." She said, forcing her thoughts to remain on the present.

"Ma'am." Eric set one tumbler in front of both Hermione and Minerva. "Enjoy."

"Thank you." Both women replied and with a nod, he left.

Minerva reached forward, long fingers wrapping around the etched glass. "To friends." She whispered raising it upwards.

Hermione's glass gently clinked against Minerva's, "Friends." She quietly agreed.

Minerva smiled slightly and lifted the tumbler to her mouth, eyes involuntarily closing to savor the lush, rich taste.

Hermione stared at the liquid for a moment, _MaCallan_… The label was not one she recognized, but the taste was a different story. "This is your label." She breathed, relishing the warmth bursting throughout her mouth. "I thought you said, you didn't know the name…"

Emerald eyes blinked open, "I…do not like to share much of my life, Hermione. I never have. And when asked regarding my label, I prefer not to state too much."

"I…wouldn't think of you differently, because you own one of the most noted Distillery's in Europe."

"Yes, well, you are one of the few who know the name of the Distillery."

"I don't understand…" Her gaze flickered to the amber liquid in her glass, "It is very easily recognizable to the whisky at your Manor."

"Yes, but that is a reserved label and it is not widely circulated."

Worry instantly flooded Hermione's veins as she realized the reason most persons would not know the similarity. Cost. "How much…" She forced her voice to remain stable, "Does this cost?"

"I have no notion, dear." Minerva waved off the worrisome thought, "And believe me, there is no reason to fret over such a trivial matter."

_Trivial…_Hermione fought back her initial retort, that spending enormous amounts of money on something so…foolhardy was not trivial. But she stopped herself. "You said one of the few…" She let her voice trail off, expectantly; hoping Minerva would fill in the blanks.

And she was not disappointed.

"Only my inner circle of friends know the label's name. Neither Tessa or Percival know what the muggle label is; only that there is a Distillery that is owned by the family."

"Inner circle; Harold, Helena, Rory…is there anyone else?"

"A few others, although, most have since passed the veil."

Hermione took another sip, "And Aegis?"

A sad smile graced rosy lips. "He knows." She answered simply, and with one motion emptied the rest of her drink.

"You and he were quite close?"

"Yes." Minerva breathed, "We…were." She signaled for Eric to refill her glass.

"And…then he killed your brother?" Hermione asked trying to understand.

"It would seem not." A shadow of doubt lining her eyes.

"I don't understand." Hermione frowned, "I thought you despised him that he killed your brother and I still don't understand why you met him this evening. And then…the meeting…you both seemed, _extremely _close. Forgive me, Minerva, but far closer than I have ever seen you with another."

Minerva relished Eric's timing as he switched tumblers and he cast a glance to Hermione, "Another?"

"Ahh…" Hermione knew she should say no; but she also knew that if she said no, Minerva would finish the glass she just received in perhaps three and at maximum four swallows and they would return to Hogwarts. Her curiosity un-satiated. "Yes." She said and with a breath she upended her glass, matching Minerva's earlier motion. Drawing an appreciative nod from both the waiter and Minerva; Eric then pulled the glass from behind his back and with a nod switched them and left. "What would he have done if I had declined?"

"I would have had him leave the glass." Minerva replied, "As it would be a shame to waste."

"Then I'm glad I didn't."

"I am too." Minerva whispered, her voice becoming thick. "Aegis…" Her grip tightened on the cool glass, "We were polar opposites."

"As diverse as Harry and Draco?"

"Surprisingly, even farther apart." Minerva twirled her glass, "And after Hogwarts, we…happened to be at the Ministry when it was bombed." Her voice caught, "We were in the elevator and the cable broke."

Hermione's breath caught. "What happened?"

"It forced us past our respective differences and to work together." She still remembered the overbearing fatigue she had felt after they had finally freed themselves, and the way his own wand arm trembled too.

_"Thank you." He lowered his quaking arm to his side._

_ "And I you." She replied, exhausted._

_ He motioned for her to move before him, "Ladies first."  
_

_ Minerva's brow quirked, and she stepped forward…pausing beside him…starring into his sapphire eyes, and he into hers._

_ And their differences, while truly insurmountable, suddenly seemed paltry as the rush of emotion from their near death experience caused his hand to snake into her hair and hers to grip the front of his robes; their lips crashing together in the middle._

"And…through that experience, we…" She met Hermione's gaze, "Became far closer than the whole of the wizarding world would have expected from either of us. Including our parents. While we were both from wizarding families, our views regarding muggles, house elves, and just about everything regarding the wizarding world was polar opposites. The only similarity between our families was the girth of their respective estates."

"The two of you had a relationship." She breathed, unbelievingly.

"We did." Minerva paused to take a sip, "We kept it to ourselves, but when our fathers found out…" Her lips curled into a frown, "It helped to highlight the differences between us, and we went our separate ways."

"I thought when you returned home from your last year of Hogwarts, you found your brother along your family Manor."

Involuntarily, her jaw clenched. "I did. And as my father poignantly remarked, it was a member of Aegis' family that killed Callum."

"It wasn't Aegis, though."

She gave a half-hearted shake of her head, "No, it wasn't. But, it amongst several other reasons is why our relationship ended. Not only were there familial differences, but our friends…" While her ears no longer burned from the heated conversation she had had with Helena, the words…still held the same potency despite the lapse of time. "The few we began sharing the news with, were utterly and totally against the notion."

"And yet…"

"We continued until I decided to enlist in Auror training, and even then we would meet upon occasion."

Hermione felt her heart lurch, Minerva's expression was so….open…honest…and it was apparent that she had, and at least on some level still did love him. "You loved him."

Flakes of silver sprinkled across emerald eyes, "Yes." She acknowledged, "We both loved each other very much."

"And then…he killed your brother."

"I believed he had." Minerva's heart breaking as she remembered how Derrick gasped for breath, blood frothing in his mouth, eyes rolling in the back of head as he tried to remain conscious; fingers gripping Rory's once white shirt. "And as we had made a covenant at the end of our relationship to always assist the other and their family; and an oath…" She easily summoned a small worn cloth to her, and with shaky fingers she extended it to the woman opposite of her. "That bound us together; it was quite…difficult to accept." She watched as Hermione gingerly took the faded cloth, could hear her own shuddering breath as Hermione's fingers carefully began unfolding a part of her life that…while she wasn't ashamed of, she also didn't permit people to know. Particularly after Derrick's death, it was too close…too raw…and too heart breaking. It had almost killed her when she had learnt that Aegis had been responsible. After everything they had shared, promised… it shook her to the core of her being. Especially with the possibility of him requesting a meeting after his detainment. And then she saw him, looking…like she had never seen him before in the Wizengamout chambers…defeated. He didn't raise his eyes, except once, and that had been to met her gaze for a brief moment before again dropping his sorrow filled eyes.

Hermione flipped open the cloth, trying to keep her fingers from visibly shaking; her nerves and curiosity beating in time with the other, and her heart stopped as she stared down at the faded and worn picture of a much younger version of the woman across the table and the hard eyes and chiseled jaw of the man she had met only a scant hour earlier. The joyful emotion brimming from their eyes, the way their arms held the other close… "Is that why you agreed to met with Aegis?" She drug her eyes away from the picture; "Because of the oath you both made?"

"It is." Came the laconic reply, and with nimble fingers she reached out and flipped the picture over to reveal their oath.

Hermione's eyes dropped to the back, eyes scanning what assumed to be Aegis' handwriting.

_An oath of two parts through heart and mind unto this world and next protecting my highland love's family as though my own; I pledge. And if ever a need befalls her, she has but to call and I will answer. ASB_

Beneath those words was a faded string of words barely discernable, but the penmanship was unmistakably Minerva's.

"What did he say?" Hermione tipped the backside of the picture into the light, trying to read Minerva's words.

"Despite our history, he would like to assist in protecting Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes darted to Minerva's. "And?"

Minerva swirled the contents of her glass, "I consented."

"That's it? He said that he wanted to help protect Hogwarts and you…" Her voice was beginning to rise and Minerva's eyes fell to the contents of her glass. "You…are letting him? What about Rory…? And Derrick's death? I know I don't know you as well as some people, but I do know you cared about your brother a great deal."

Minerva didn't respond, her gaze remaining leveled upon the tumbler as the seconds turned into minutes.

"Minerva…" Hermione reached across the table, fingers gently touching the velvet material along her forearm. "Minerva." She stated again, noticing that Minerva had closed her eyes and the candlelight reflected off the trail of tears dampening her cheek. Without thought, she slid her hand forward until hers was atop Minerva, and tenderly she squeezed. "I'm sorry…"

"For speaking from your heart?" She opened her crystalline emerald eyes to gaze deeply into the brown ones peering intently into her own. "Never be sorry, dear for something so rare." She returned the gesture to Hermione before withdrawing her hand. "As for Aegis…" She sighed, "He convinced me of his innocence regarding Derrick's death."

"And you believe him?"

Minerva finished the last of her glass, and subtly gave Eric another nod before recanting her conversation with Aegis to her. She finished off two more glasses during that time and was about to drink the last of her third one; but paused to subtly watch Hermione draining the last of hers. Perhaps it was the alcohol…or the last several weeks of worry…or the way Hermione stared intently into her eyes…or the way she cared…or the way the candlelight flickered across her skin giving it an effervescent glow…or the way her lips pressed against the glass…albeit she was certain it was not one thing; rather the culmination of all the aforementioned and undoubtedly a thousand other things that made her eyes slid down the soft lines of Hermione's cheek…jaw…the hollow of her neck and notice, not for the first time, how beautiful the young witch was. As lush lips released their hold, Minerva downed her own thoughts with the potent liquid, relishing the burn as it brought back a measure of clarity and the unfortunate weight of her own obligations.

"Another?" Eric asked drawing up beside her as she set her glass down.

"Not this evening." Minerva stated, surprising Hermione who had noticed that her own lips seemed to be having difficulty forming around words the last few minutes.

He nodded pulled out the bill, "When you are ready." And took away the two empty glasses.

Minerva flipped up the bill, and stretched out her arm to read the damnable minute print.

"Ohhh…Minerva," Hermione took the bill from elegant fingers, "That…" She scanned the items and it showed that they had had a total of twelve drinks; six a piece and she felt breathless. "Is…" She swallowed as she stared at the grotesquely large number. 3200 pounds per drink. 38,400 pounds. This was equivalent to just over half her annual Hogwarts salary. "Let me at least pay for part of it."

"Nonsense." Minerva gave a nod, and mysteriously Eric reappeared and she handed him what looked to be a black and gold credit card. He vanished and Minerva continued on, "As I have stated, I have ample funds; and the company was most welcome."

Hermione let the bill slip from her fingers, still mildly shocked. "I…"

"Please, let it be, dear." Minerva stated as Eric stepped beside her and she easily took the papers from him and glanced up. "Thank you."

"A pleasure as always." He stated, "And, do you need transportation service this evening?" Concern evident in his voice as he watched the older woman pen in a tip and with practiced efficiency sign her name.

"No." Minerva handed him the signed copy, "But thank you."

He tipped his head, "You are most welcome." He paused, "Are you sure Lady McGonagall that I cannot procure a car for you?"

"I have already made arrangements, but I do thank you for your concern…as always."

A genuine smile flashed across his features, "Until next time." His eyes landed upon Hermione. "And you, Ma'am. Always a pleasure to meet an associate of the Lady's."

"Thank you." Hermione replied, and in response, he merely smiled and then turned and walked away. Her gaze immediately snapped to Minerva, questioning. "Then you come here often?"

"With a semblance of regularity, especially when I have meetings with some of my muggle contacts." Minerva stood.

"And how did you pay?" She joined Minerva.

Minerva easily produced the card with which she had paid, and Hermione smiled. The card held a Celtic symbol with the letters, RBS across the upper left and a VISA emblem along the bottom right. "You have an account at the Royal Bank of Scotland?"

Minerva banished the card as she replied, "Of course."

Hermione's mind, albeit sluggish from the alcohol, logically thought through the process. "Tied to your _other _account."

"It makes traversing the muggle world far easier." Minerva paused in her commentary as she stepped up to the hostess station. A few minutes later, both Minerva and Hermione had donned their cloaks and were striding from the Witchery; Minerva finishing her previous thought. "As it is merely debited from my account as though charged and I do not have to worry about changing monies around and trying to learn the muggle financial system."

Hermione paused tipping her head back, feeling the cold air lick her warm skin. "Ingenious." She murmured, "I will have to look into creating a debiting account."

Minerva noticed that she had stopped, and turned her head having to fight back a smile. Hermione's cheeks were flushed; head tipped back, eyes partially closed as she held out her arms into the night air. "I'll send word to Griphook and ask that he send the paperwork to you."

Hermione tipped her head upright, opening her eyes as she did. "Don't worry, I'll stop by Gringott's on Saturday after the Order meeting and sort it out."

Minerva made a mental note to proceed and speak with Griphook, as he would ultimately have to approve the connected accounts…and apparently he didn't do that with great frequency as they began slowly walking forward. "Do you have the children this weekend too?"

Hermione bit back a sigh, "Yes." She replied, "I'm picking them up on Friday evening and I have already arranged for Milksy to watch them while I'm at the Order meeting." She loved having Rose and Hugo, wanted to spend more time with them, but lately she found that the weeks had blurred together and she was doing everything she could to just…maintain. "Will you have time to see them?" She turned as she expanded her answer to see a look of warmth spread across the woman beside her.

"Aye," Minerva's ancestry creeping into her vocabulary, while not at all unwelcome, was rather unusual and Hermione attributed it to the fair amount of alcohol she had consumed. "I do." She stated easily, but inwardly sighed, as she expanded her answer with superfluous reasons and not the one she was already dreading. "But not until Sunday. I am afraid Friday I shall be in session at the Wizengamout and Saturday there is the Order meeting, the Quidditch match and then dinner at the Harrisons."

"Dinner?" Hermione questioned, "I thought or rather…from what you stated previously, that you have not spoken with Helena or Harold since last Thursday." Minerva's jaw flexed…and Hermione found herself stumbling onward, inwardly chastising her thoughtlessness; especially after all Minerva had dealt with this evening. _Why had she been so stupid?! _"I mean…I am just surprised, after everything with Kingsley and with Harold working there...and the Unspeakables…"

"Harold won't be there." Came the succinct reply.

"Minerva…" She gently reached out, fingers curling around the emerald cloak. "I didn't mean…" Drawing the other woman to a stop with her. "To intrude or cause you any consternation, it's just this past week…you have been under so much stress; I hope your dinner will help to ease some of it."

With deliberate slowness, Minerva turned towards Hermione stealing the air from her lungs as burning eyes landed up on her. "She is my dearest friend, as is Harold. And while Kingsley's meddling is a nuisance, it will not destroy over seventy years of friendship. The tension, my dear, is derived from our inability to communicate for fear of what it will do politically to the other. Because, while we are friends privately, the depth of our friendship is like most things…"

"Unknown." Hermione finished.

"Quite." She clipped, "And better for both of us."

"But doesn't Kingsley know?"

"Know that we are friends?" She quirked her brow, "Of course. We are friends with half of the wizarding world. But as for best friends…" She gave a subtle shake of her head, "No. Rather two colleagues who've worked together for decades."

"And the situation with Harold, the Ministry, and the Unspeakables…"

"Untenable but necessary."

"Necessary?" Her confusion evident.

"Picture someone like Lucius or Draco in charge of the Department of Mysteries." Minerva continued on, noting the understanding beginning to be reflected in mocha eyes. "And if he leaves, there is that possibility as the Minister of Magic assigns the new department head; and he could easily put someone in Harold's position that will just do what he wants or directs him to do without question with Merlin knows what available at his fingertips."

"So Harold remains…because of who would be placed there if he would leave."

"He has been training a replacement for years, but he will not retire until he is sure that the person who he has been training is willing to do what is right and that that person will be the next Administrator."

"Even if it means strain upon your friendship."

"At worst, there is strain; but if our situations were reversed, I would do the same. There is far too much at stake if his department falls into the wrong hands, no different than if my successor does not have the best interest of the children at their heart."

Hermione felt her heart hitch at the words, _my successor._

"So, while there is a strain; Hermione. It is difficult, but extremely understandable."

_My successor._

"And it is something that I shall willingly endure, not because it is the right thing to do, nor easy, rather because of the very simple fact that he is my friend."

Hermione blinked the two words away, "If you need to talk, know that I am here."

Minerva tenderly touched Hermione's hand that was still resting upon her arm, "I know." She squeezed and let her hand drop, quietly repeating herself. "I know, dear."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva stepped from her bathroom, shedding her robe onto the edge of the bed after she peeled the covers back.

"I'm sure the confusion and disquiet you are feeling will dissipate, my dear."

Minerva climbed into bed, glancing up to her husband. "I hope sooner rather than later." She murmured as she adjusted the covers, her thoughts returning to the source of her jumbled emotions…

"Especially after speaking with Rory." He continued on, adding to her already torrid emotional state.

"You'll be able to see the fireworks from here." She set her glasses along with her wand upon the end table.

He chuckled, "My dear, it won't be _that_ bad."

"You have forgotten our esteemed friend's temper."

Blue eyes twinkled behind his spectacles, "No more than yours love."

"The last thing I want to do is get into an argument with Rory," An audible sigh left her lips, "Not with everything else going on, including my current strained relations with Helena."

"Once the truth is revealed, no argument will be needed."

Green eyes flickered upwards, "I hope so." She whispered, turning off the light bathing the room in darkness.

"It will." He murmured as she closed her eyes, her thoughts however, remaining upon the brown-eyed witch, whose presence this evening was more than needed…rather wanted.

While it was true she was exhausted beyond reproach and she needed some time to sleep…needed some time to decompress…needed help to accomplish those…needed someone whom she could trust to lean upon…and needed those persons to be alive…

She pulled a pillow against her chest, hugging it closer...

Because she knew what she needed. The problem was what she found herself beginning to want.

She wanted to see the warmth sparkle from the depths of brown eyes, to sink into an embrace where she could _feel_ at peace even if only for a moment…

She felt a tear slip off her cheek and wet the fabric beneath her skin as she closed her eyes, seeking a moment of respite hoping that tomorrow she wouldn't _want _to depend upon Hermione as much; knowing that their relationship was perilous enough because she needed her.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!


	46. Chapter 44 November 27th, 2009

_Sorry for the delay..._

**Chapter 44 ~ November 27****th**** 2009 (Friday)**

With a weighted sigh, Minerva banished the morning report. She didn't truly have the energy to deal with the missing staircase along the western stairwell nor why none of the torches would remain lit along the seventh floor northeastern wing before climbing into Sybil's classroom. Although, she could surmise a reason for each, but reasons only prevented future occurrences, which while important, did not fix the immediate problems.

Problems that had to be corrected prior to breakfast.

"Elgin." She waved her hand and the wet ringlets dripping down her back immediately snapped atop her head, dry and pins deftly defying gravity's pull lifted it easily atop her head.

"Mistress." He appeared, "You'se needs these?" He stretched out his hand, glasses nestled within.

"Yes." Minerva traded her _usual_ glasses for her temporary ones. "Thank you."

He gave a nod, "And…" He cleared his throat, "Will you'se be staying at Hogwarts or the Mistress' home?"

"Tonight, here. But if you could ask Bonnie to prepare for tomorrow evening, that would be most kind."

"I'se be happy to inform her."

Minerva felt her heart lift at the twinkle within his large yellow eyes, "Thank you."

He gave a nod, "And Mistress…"

She quirked her brow at him, "Yes."

"The stairs were just seen this morning in Gryffindor Tower."

At that she shook her head, _How in Merlin's beard did it manage that?_ She turned and walked towards her wardrobe, mentally preparing for the day and how she would squeeze an entire staircase back through the Tower's narrow stairwell. She would need to take a handful of potions before attending the Wizengamut this morning for both physical endurance and stamina. Both of which would be taxed beyond reproach by mid-day as she had started her 'cycle' again. Without thought, she pulled out her robes, chemise, linens and began dressing relishing the ease with which her hip and lower back moved…one of the few 'perks' to the next three days; feeling 'younger'.

_Perhaps I'll go to the loch tomorrow evening and take a long run along the shore._

Her arm sliding along the ivory sheer, silken sleeve as she donned her inner robe, her eyes fluttering shut at the heightened sensation prickling along her skin.

_"Three days…" _She murmured in Gaelic, _"It's only three days."_

Albus shifted in his portrait at her thick voice, knowing that by tomorrow evening his blood would be on fire too; and he could do nothing to ease either of their discomfort. "And you have a meeting at the Wizengamout?" He asked, dreading the answer for what it would mean to him too.

"Yes." She answered as the seam sealed, "All day." At his groan, she quirked her brow, "I lived with this for sometime before marrying you."

"I know, love." His tone quickly acquiescing as he hoped to take some of the sting from her growing ire. "But whether you lived with this or not prior to now, it still makes for several long days."

Minerva fastened the seam to her black inner robe, "True." She grudgingly agreed, "Especially with so many people."

"And tomorrow?" He vaguely recalled Filius mentioning that Ravenclaw had a quidditch game; desperately hoping that it fell on the following weekend.

"Order, quidditch, and dinner with Helena." Minerva recited without thought as her pristine emerald robes fell about her frame.

"Have you been at least able to keep Sunday partially clear?" His voice betraying a wisp of hope in his cadence.

"The whole of it," She wandlessly transfigured her ring into her Celtic broach, "As I am planning on staying at the Ridge Saturday evening."

He gently let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "That will help to ease some of the strain from both today and the morrow."

Her fingers stopped at the pearl studded earrings, "Strain." She chuckled, "You do have a way with words dear."

His eyes twinkled, "A trait I attribute solely to you."

"Albus…" Her voice turning grave, "I know this has been…uncomfortable for you to experience, but…" She felt the backing on the earring snap, locking it in place; enabling her to face him, fully. "_This_ will get worse."

He gravelly nodded, "I know."

"No, you don't." She tried to repress the shutter that shot through her at what the next several months meant. "As my animagus traits will _want_ me to mate. And I love you, am bound to you, but because we cannot express our love…and my body will _seek_ release…driving the need to greater heights."

"How long…" He hated having to not only hear the awful truth and adversity their relationship had to face but also the very real fact about having to have this conversation. "Will you be able to withhold the effects?"

She thought back and then shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I don't know." She whispered, "I'm not as young, the need while intense does not seem to be increasing as fast which I believe is due to our bond, but…I'm also far more tired."

"Then let us just focus on _this _time." He stated, hoping to help reassure her. "And the three days you need to work through."

With a sigh, she wandlessly summoned her glasses. "Easier said than done, dear."

"Minerva." He called out, stopping her movement at the threshold, "You can _do _this."

"It's neither about ability nor wanting to do something Albus; it's about basic, primal instincts. And while I may be able to control many things, I learned over a half a century ago that my animagus traits was one area that I could not control, merely influence, but even that is limited. And _you _know this."

"I know, my dear." He whispered, "But I can always hope."

"As do I, love."

* * *

oxoxo

* * *

Hermione frowned at Milksy, "Are you sure?"

"Quite, Professor's Hermione."

"How did the second set of stairs end up in the Tower?"

"I'se do not know."

"And have you informed the Headmistress?"

"Of course." Milksy replied.

And Hermione couldn't stop a hint of a smile from gracing her lips as she thought of how Minerva would have been informed, and how foolish it had been to believe otherwise. "Her morning report."

Milksy quirked her brow, "How'se you knows of it? No one's to know."

Her smile widened as she recalled the morning not so very long ago, but seeming forever at once, when she had waited for Minerva following her birthday and the Hukbar; the morning Minerva had stepped into her living room with wet ringlets of hair and a lush ivory robe…

A moment that had burned itself into her memory; whether she had wished it to or not. As had seemed to happen with most of her encounters involving the revered witch; moments that had become some of her most cherished memories and...also some of her most horrific. As with most things regarding Minerva, she was the epitome of a paradox…one that seemed to draw her both closer and push her farther away. "It was through pure happenstance that I learned of her morning report, but rest assured, that it shall not go any further."

"I'se have no doubts." Milksy stated.

"Do you know if she requires any assistance to move the staircase?"

"I'se do not know." She responded.

"Would you mind asking?" Hermione slipped on her cloak, sealing the seam.

Milksy shifted her footing, "She'se…not there."

Brown eyes immediately shifted to the clock, noting the time. _6:27. _"It's not even 7 this morning. Where is she?"

Her ears flattened, "She'se the Headmistress, Professor. Not even Master Elgin knows of all of her'se comings and goings."

Summoning her shoes, "Thank you, Milksy. Please inform Bonnie that I will not require her assistance this morning."

"At once," Milksy gave a nod and blinked away leaving Hermione to wonder what the Headmistress was doing at this hour of the morning as she slipped on her shoes. A handful of minutes later, she bid Godric good morning and stepped into the corridor and felt a ripple of magic sweep across her skin. Not just any magic, Minerva's. She sprinted forward, cloak billowing behind her as she drew to a stop at the lip of the stairwell...her jaw slackened in awe.

She could see Minerva at the foot of the staircase, seven stories down; wand and if she wasn't mistaken, her hand was glowing too. Hermione had witnessed profound magic before, and on several counts, by Minerva, herself; but…it was still utterly amazing to watch. The staircases were nestled along the side of the walls, leaving room for additional staircase to descend; once it had been folded in upon itself…but as it whirled downward, it became ghostlike as it was about to collide with another passing staircase and her breath caught as it shimmered…and miraculously passed through it and the two unsuspecting occupants upon it. The staircase continued its rapid descent and Hermione felt her heart flutter as it passed the second floor, no sign of slowing as the upper floors staircases began peeling away from the walls and righting themselves…while the 'other' staircase spun on its axis and then…was, gone.

As was Minerva.

Brown eyes swept the area as she was finally able to begin descending towards the first floor, and where Minerva had been merely a moment before.

* * *

oxoxo

* * *

"How long have you been scribbling away on your calculations?" Helena asked, stepping into the room

Hastily the elder wizard closed the journal, "Helena. And how are you doing this morning?"

"Well, but…" Her eyes rested upon his quill, and smudged fingers atop the worn leather binding. "You failed to answer my question." She remarked as her blue eyes slid to an all too well known journal. She took a step closer, "I see, Minerva has leant you a text from her private collection."

He reached over, gently picking up the aged journal. "She has." He commented, "And I am sure, you very well know why."

"I do." She quietly replied while wandlessly closing the door and subsequently silencing the room. "Did she tell you?"

"There was no need, as I had already done the calculations with over two hundred variables when I was in Johannes' custody."

Helena felt her heart sink, "Adam…" She leaned forward, "Please tell me you didn't tell Johannes…"

His thin lips stretched into a smile, "I told him what he wanted to hear; nothing more." But his eyes narrowed, "You've studied Meric's writings, haven't you?"

Blue eyes met his, "For decades."

"And the end, regarding her survival…" He let his voice trail off, hoping that perhaps she had found something, he hadn't.

"I can't match his arithmancy calculations." Helena murmured, a deep pain lining her voice, "Despite the years I have tried."

"Did you discover any of his base formulas?"

"One that enables me to stretch the calculations outwards for months with amazing accuracy, but there is a secondary component that I have been unable to find."

He opened his journal, "Did your calculations look like this?"

Glasses were immediately dangling from her fingers, and with practiced ease she was slipping them on as her eyes began scanning his work. And she felt a frown already curling the edges of her lips and pulling upon her face; his calculations looked just as hers…and the date…

Tears were already blurring her vision, as she read the date a second time. _February 25__th__, 2010._

"They do." She whispered no longer able to trust her voice.

"Damn." Adam snapped flipping the journal closed. "I don't see as Meric did."

"Nor do I." Helena answered feeling equally dejected. "And I can't stand the thought that my dearest friend will no longer be alive in just over three months time."

"No." His voice resolute, "If Meric found something, then there has to be something there."

"I've ran hundreds of variables, all have the same ending outcome." She paused, remembering one _very _different outcome. "Although, when I included Hermione Granger into the calculations the deaths surrounding Minerva's decreased exponentially."

"And Minerva's?"

"No affect," Helena's wand moved in a short stroked wave, conjuring a chair. "Though, I do wonder why and how Hermione's course became so entwined with Minerva's to have such an effect upon so many of Minerva's closest friends and family; but not upon her."

"Is she the woman who has been helping Minerva these past few months?"

"Yes, she joined her at Hogwarts at the beginning of term and…has begun training with her to…"

"Assist her in endeavors." Adam succinctly stated. "And so, their lives have crossed and I am sure that much like our relationships with Minerva; it is far deeper than most people will understand…or know."

"And the numbers?"

He sighed, "I will return Meric's text to Minerva, and also give her the option of seeing my calculations upon my release next Tuesday."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva's grip on her walking stick tightened as she swept from the floo network, her senses immediately overloaded by the haunting scents of musk, mint, vanilla, oatmeal, lilac, gardenia, and she found herself gritting her teeth as her eyes adjusted to the throng of persons while the soot fell from her body.

In less than a second, she was moving to the lower chambers and through the milling persons and towards the main Wizengamout chamber; all the while noticing the way she seemed to draw _everyone's_ gaze as she walked past.

"Minerva." Innately she turned to Edwyn's familiar voice, and found herself once again cursing the time of month as his smile grew wider, "You are looking lovely today."

"Thank you," She stated with ease, "And it seems that Italy suited you."

Grey eyes twinkled with delight, "A well needed respite, especially with things as they are. Though…"

A wave of almond washed over senses, and she found herself breathing in the decadent scent greedily; as he droned on about he had not spent much time outside of Florence. _A pity really; there was so much more to Italy than what could be found along the streets and rivers in Florence. _But, she cared little for the moment, as her gaze momentarily flickered away from his to find the heady scent that her body suddenly craved. However, upon the second breath, she noted the trace of rose and dirt lacing the almond scent; and while still potently alluring her mind was already discounting the scent as her eyes latched upon the willowy witch in crimson robes who suddenly glanced towards her and she felt a burning heat flush through her system and her grip tightened upon her walking stick; Edwyn still droning on about Italy…

Minerva forced her eyes away from the passing witch and back to Edwyn who seemed unaware of her momentary distraction. His eyes still glowing as they once again fastened upon hers, his smile radiating joy_. Today is going to be a long day_, she mused.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Tenian shifted to the left, "There was another attack along the western edge of the Forest."

"How many Centaurs?"

"Three were killed, another seven injured."

Rory drew his cloak tighter to him, "Were ya able to dissuade their entry?"

"They were leaving," A wry smile laced Tenian's lips. "Or rather attempting to."

"How many?"

"Two." He answered grimly. "One was killed, the other mortally wounded but he did escape."

"I'm sure he will tell Johannes that there are nah fresh tracks."

Worry flashed across the elder Centaur's face. "How safe are these lands?"

"A wee bit safer than the Forbidden Forest."

Tenian's grey eyes narrowed, piercing the younger wizard with his worldly gaze. "That is not an answer."

"Only the owner and caregivers of McGonagall's Manor know of the forrest beyond."

"And her previous son?"

Immediately Rory understood his concern, "Minerva's children know nothing of the forest or its contents." He expanded his answer upon seeing the confusion in Tenian's face. "She has a second home that the children were raised at."

"Peculiar, seeing as her stars align here."

"Her soul may be at home in the Highlands, but the grounds have pierced her heart and bled the earth red and she has no more the stomach to remain."

"Her daughter's death?" Tenian questioned seeking understanding.

Pain filled eyes met grey, "Along with her Aunt, Uncle, two cousins, and her eldest brother."

"All upon these grounds?"

"Yes, her family's estate."

Tenian's eyes lifted heavenward, "That explains the shadows, but not the gravity's pull."

Rory followed the Centaur's gaze, "Nor your context."

A rich chuckle burst forth from his lips, "True." He dropped his eyes to the young wizard. "Do you take after your esteemed friend regarding the art of Divination?"

"Aye, typically, I do." He stated, meeting Tenian's gaze. "But, these are not typical times. Nor," His voice dropping, "Do I believe you to be the charlatan most prophets portray themselves to be."

"I am not a prophet." He spit out.

"Hence, my belief."

Tenian was quiet for a moment as he debated telling the young wizard of his friend's future; and also found himself curious as to what the stars said about the wizard before him. "Come back tomorrow evening, and I will show you the portion of the stars as I see them."

"I canna return then, I have a previous engagement." Rory remarked. Tomorrow evening he and George were to have dinner; at George's flat. And, the first time in over a week since he had seen the younger wizard. Not that they hadn't exchanged owls, several of them…but…

"There will not be another clear night for over three weeks."

Rory frowned, "It is not due to rain or snow for another week."

"It is not only the rain and snow that affects the stars and our ability to see them." Tenian began turning, "Tomorrow, Rory. Or the offer is rescinded."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Reserved. Calm. Patient. Honest. Just. Powerful. Were just a few of the adjectives Milan would use to describe the elder witch, but today she was her typical paradoxical self; all of those and none. Rather, stoic. That would be the word she used to describe the blasted, confounded…venerable woman today.

Stoic.

She had watched as Minerva skillfully evaded the topic of choice between hearings; her and the Minister. And as the day progressed, the questions became bolder and the group of witches and wizards greater surrounding the woman. And still…she remained, stoic. The epitome of calm…

And as Minerva turned to her left, Milan couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled nor…dare she think it; how beautiful she appeared today. Milan had always believed Minerva to be a breathtaking woman, but she so rarely displayed her beauty; hiding it beneath billowing cloaks and purposefully portraying an austere maid…that was so unlike the woman beneath, and the woman she knew and grew up with. But, she couldn't help but wonder, what was different today? Why did Minerva not appear as she typically did…and yet, the difference was so slight…how was she, a reporter, not able to discern what it was?

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Poppy sighed, "I can't do that."

The flames jumped momentarily obscuring Helena's face. "It is very important."

"Omit the fact that she is both your friend and Hogwarts' Administrator; and remember that you are a healer."

"And what of your relationship?"

"I am talking to you as a healer, not as her friend."

"I too am her friend, Helena. And, I can tell you, that she will not agree."

"She is dying."

"Yes," Poppy's voice cracking, "She is. But, she will be dead, either way."

"A fact which further emboldens our esteemed friend to do the unthinkable."

"The unthinkable and unbelievable is the world where Minerva lives and breathes and by doing so, her actions have helped to form the very construct that enables our world to exist."

Helena recalled her earlier conversation with Adam, "She also deserves a life, Poppy."

"Yes, she does." Poppy agreed, "But this is also her choice. And dammit, I am going to respect it."

"Even if it means that you turn a blind eye to the sheer volume of potions and elixirs she is now drinking each day."

"Would you, honestly, prevent her from drinking them if she were to ask you?"

A long pause filled the space between them, Helena's face becoming less prominent as she leaned back away from the flames. "No." She grudgingly replied, "But, please begin to monitor the volume."

"I will send you a report each week as to what she procures from my stores; however, you know as well as I, she is far more resourceful than to merely use the stock from Hogwarts."

"I will ask Elgin to catalogue the potions and elixirs she buys from Diagon Alley and other shops."

"Why not just ask Percival McDore from Simmering Stews and Bernette Rollins from Tasty Tonics if she frequents either of their shops?"

"She would purchase her potions from several locations, not just the ones from Diagon Alley."

"But she hasn't been outside of London or Hogwarts since the start of term."

A throaty chortle filled the space between them, "Minerva specializes in the understated and while it may seem as though she has not been anywhere save for London and Hogwarts; I guarantee that she has been elsewhere. Especially if she has reason or need."

"You do realize that Elgin serves the Head of Hogwarts and is the epitome of loyal. Do you truly believe that Elgin will impart the additional information to you?"

Helena's face remained non-descript as she answered, "We will see. But, please send me the reports and I will ask her to submit a bi-weekly blood draw to run tests to ensure that her levels have not become toxic."

"Agreed."

"And, that you will not let her have access to more than the healers prescribed maximums?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

_George, _

_ It is with profound regret that I must cancel our engagement tomorrow evening. Please know that while I will be elsewhere, my thoughts will be with you. I have also enclosed a few words that you may wish to add to your campaign notes regarding our current state of affairs. _

_ Rory_

George pulled the small sheaf of parchment from his letter, and at noting Percy's glance towards him, banished his letter at once.

"Another letter?" His brother being far too observant of late.

"Hardly what you think, as it relates to Order business and my campaign against the Minister." He skimmed the second note, while his thoughts remained riveted upon the first one.

"Well, that explains your crestfallen face." Percy said trying to lighten the mood, "Thought it was from _her_?"

"Huh," George glanced up, "No." He said shaking his head, "Not at all."

"Right." Percy drawled in response.

"It's not like that." George rebuked.

"I've not seen you look as you do before." Percy shook his head, "You've got it bad for her."

George didn't have the heart to sidestep the half truth nor to correct the obvious gaffe in his brother's belief. Because the truth was, he did have it bad for him.

Really bad.

And the depth of emotion he felt for the Highlander, scared the hell out of him.

Then he felt his shoulder give, jolting his thoughts away from Rory and back to the matter at hand. Dealing with his brother.

"You are right, I do care a great deal but not in the way you think."

"Why don't…you tell me who she is and what is going on with you two?"

George thought back to a far earlier conversation with his older brother, and his stomach coiled. While, most of the wizarding world was progressive regarding affairs of the heart, his brother…was not. Quite the opposite; and he couldn't stand to lose another brother. "Because, I'm not ready." He whispered in response and choking back the ball of emotion, "But I will tell you when I am." He blinked back the tears, "So, please stop asking."

Percy reached over and drew his brother into a half hearted one arm hug, "Alright." He whispered as before George pulled back, and Percy asked a light-hearted question. "She isn't pregnant is she?"

A chuckle burst from George's lips, "Hardly. Now…"

"Alright, alright." Percy held up his hand in surrender. "But, I just had to ask."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva stepped from the grate in her office to a chorus of voices, all demanding her attention and desire to attend to a variety of matters. Albus was one of the few to remain quiet, his eyes trailing after her…and hers innately turning to find his.

"Please." She stated with quiet fortitude. "I will hear _all _of your messages." She eyed the formidable portraits one by one, "_After_ dinner. Now, if each of you would mind finding another location, I would like a word with my husband."

The room stared at her, dumbstruck.

"Ahhhhhhh…"

"Minerva, how can you ask us to do something so…"

"Rude."

"Uncouth."

"Impudent."

The day had done little to help her patience, quite the opposite in fact. "I'm tired, hungry, my skin while not on fire, is well beyond comfortable and I have neither the stamina nor desire to listen to the lot of you prattle when I need a moment of respite with my husband; without a hundred eyes peering down at us. Now, out!"

Bristling portraits scampered from their frames, Dilys remaining for one moment. "They may not like being excluded, but they do understand." Eyes became warm, "We do hope you are afforded some rest during this difficult time."

Minerva gave a curt nod, "Thank you."

Dilys vanished a second later, leaving her alone with Albus.

"How are you doing?" He whispered.

A deep heavy breath eschewed from her lips, "I should ask you." She murmured, leaning back against her desk. "As you already know how I feel, and have felt for the past several hours."

His voice barely audible, and utterly guttural in response, "I _want _you as keenly as I once did. It's as though the oil and the cloth have vanished; replaced, and I once again have skin longing for your touch, the feel of your softness surrounding me." He reached up, pulling his glasses from his face to stare at her without the lenses skuing his vision. "And if I close my eyes, I smell the lavender mixed with a hint of vanilla permeating from your skin; the way your heat envelops me as you whisper…"

"Albus." She murmured feeling her heart rate increasing as her body throbbed with need, skin becoming hotter as her eyes drifted close.

"And the last of your clothes vanish while my lips pay homage to your skin...and I feel your hips thrust upwards into my eager mouth, tasting the hint of lemony ginger…"

Minerva's fingers clenched, nails digging into the desk as her body reacted to his hoarse voice, body already wanton with need. "Please, stop Albus. The day, as you know has been…dreadful." She cleared her throat and opened her molten, haze filled emerald eyes; "I cannot take an ounce more, and yet…"

"You have dinner." He rasped.

She stood, "I have dinner."

"And after?"

"A very long, cold shower."

His brow arched, "Are you sure?"

"Oh…how I wish there was more." She whispered.

"As do I." His sigh, echoing hers. "And you say, it is not as noticeable or as severe as last time?"

"Nor as potent as it can become."

"What a lovely notion."

"Be thankful that it is beginning to dissipate." She reached up, unsealing her seam line of her outer cloak.

"Do you have any idea why it is not becoming more intense as it did previously?"

She tossed her cloak upon her chair, "As I said before, one reason is that we are bound; the other..." She glanced back to him, "I am dying. And my body cannot maintain its progressively heightened awareness every five weeks as its reserves continue to become weaker."

"Mistress." Elgin appeared, pausing as he glanced from the Mistress to the Master and the strangely empty gallery of frames in her office. "It is time for dinner."

"But of course it is." Minerva murmured, "I will see you later."

Slowly, Albus donned on his glasses, "I shall be here."

"I know." She whispered, knowing all too well where her husband was, and had been for over a decade. "Elgin." She turned to him, "If you would be so kind, as I am rather tired."

His weather face lightened, "Of course."

Minerva didn't have an opportunity to blink as he snapped his fingers and she was standing in front of the side door which was already opening for her. _How efficient._ She mused, wishing for a moment to gather her wits and thoughts. For she would undoubtedly need both to survive through dinner; over half of the staff were unmarried and that did not count the other half who, while were married, were not bound…and most had tumultuous relationships at best…and then there was Marx, the only wizard on staff whose preference would make him, un-attracted to her. That left three, perhaps four who would not notice her this evening.

_It is for but an hour, _she thought already counting down the minutes. And then as if automated, she found her feet clipping across the expanse vaguely noticing the click of her cane intermittent with her footsteps. "Good evening," She stated to the already assembled Professors, noting that only half of the staff had arrived. A chorus of hellos and good evenings resonated in reply and she found a smile easily gracing her lips upon noticing that Filius and Pomona had sat upon either side of her chair. _Thank Merlin for small favors._ "Filius, Pomona."

"Minerva." They stated in unison, "You look fatigued." Pomona continued on, "Have you not been sleeping, again?"

She pulled her chair out, "I was at the Wizengamout for the day."

"How many times were you asked about the incident at the Ministry?"

Easing herself into the chair, she momentarily felt the heat pulsing in her center; and through sheer force of will, ignored the feeling and turned to Filius. "The whole of the day between cases."

Minerva waved her hand and at once, dinner was served. Without thought, she reached forward, needing a cool drink to help quell the heat of her skin.

"And did you and the Minister happen to cross paths?"

"Thankfully, no." She remarked, drawing several chuckles from the surrounding Professors. "Although, I had the misfortune of…" The tingling in her skin flared and her hand shifted almost spilling the decanter of water as she poured her glass. "Being in the same chamber as Milan." She finished as her eyes snapped upwards, wondering what had caused her body's acute reaction.

"And she didn't ask questions regarding what happened between you two?" Filius found that notion hard to believe, no wonder why she had become momentarily distracted and almost spilled her water.

"Surprisingly, no." Minerva set the decanter down, and reached for her glass hoping to quell the spreading fire along her skin.

"And you have not…" The rest of his sentence trailed off as a wave of almond intermixed with oatmeal and a hint of chalk graced her senses and her grip involuntarily tightened as she used every ounce of self-restraint not to move her gaze off of Filius.

On some level, she could see the concern beginning to sweep across Filius' face, his golden eyes…as every fiber in her being became alert, and the heat she had felt before was nothing compared to the inferno raging beneath her skin. _Dear Merlin…_she silently breathed while closing her eyes; attempting to bring her raging animagus wanton need back from the brink and under a semblance of…dare she utter the notion, control.

Each passing second, the blood pounding in her ears became louder as the scent became clearer and more poignant, her body practically shaking with need. Minerva found herself focusing on her breathing, the shallow in and out, not the texture of the scent…for the rich decadent aroma would be her undoing; and her bond…dear god…even her bond seemed trivial in comparison to the lush body whose presence brought hers to life.

_In and out._ She forced her thoughts back to the simplest of mantras and meditations. _In…_

"Minerva…" The whisper becoming more anxious as a hand came to rest upon hers.

"I'm fine." Came a throaty Gaelic whisper. _Out._

"You're trembling."

_In. _"I need to eat." She found the words easier to say. _Out._

"Perhaps a visit to Poppy." Pomona's earthy cadence helping to bring another segment of clarity.

And…with the last breath in; she focused on the memory of finding her daughter…the way Esmerele's blood slipped off her fingertips, and she opened her eyes to see worried golden orbs that widen in surprise at her startling gaze. "As I said," She lifted her glass to her lips, noting that Hermione had taken a seat five seats past Filius; as she emptied the liquid in a deep swallow, barely alleviating the dryness in her throat. "I am famished and also in need of rest." She leaned back into her seat, "Nothing more."

A dubious look past between Filius and Pomona, but she knew that neither would question her statements in such an open area. And for that, she was exceedingly thankful, because…she had to find a way to finish eating her meal; when her body wanted nothing to do with food. It had a far more basic urge it wished to satisfy.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione found herself glancing at the Headmistress, again. And, immediately berated herself for her seeming lack of will; and forced her eyes back to the table and the lemon tart that held little appeal but happened to be in the same direction.

"I'll have a piece too, if you don't mind." Marx stated motioning to his plate.

Thankful for the diversion, she eagerly filled his plate; while her mind returned to the magnetic pull the Headmistress seemed to have upon her this evening. She felt utterly powerless and unable to resist it. A proverbial moth to the flame.

"She is…breathtaking this evening." Marx stated as Hermione turned back to him.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked as she pulled her attention back to the Slytherin Head of House.

"Minerva." He nodded towards the Headmistress, a chuckle lacing his voice. "You seem to be one of the few not to have noticed." He leaned closer as Hermione indulgently glanced to Minerva again. "As I do not believe Rolanda, Clemons, Viktor, Liannia…hell over half the staff has moved their gaze off her this evening."

"She does have a certain glow," Hermione quietly remarked as she once again peeled her gaze away. "About her."

"She will undoubtedly say it was merely the way the light reflected from the windows." Marx sliced a bit from the end of his dessert.

"If you do not believe that is the case, what do you believe it to be?" Hermione questioned, not even bother to hide her curiosity.

"I think that," His pink lips softly curling into a smile as he tipped his head downwards to enable his strangely colored austere blue eyes to met hers, "She is innately stunning and the woman we see daily is merely a guise of her true self."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva stood, feeling a trail of eyes upon her, but one pair of eyes was causing her heart to flutter and stomach to clench. And she couldn't find the strength in her to utter a simple 'good evening'. Instead, she tipped her head and swept from the room, the door barely latching close before calling for Elgin. She was too scattered and far too exhausted to think about apparating to her quarters; because, if she were truthful with herself…she wouldn't be alone when she'd arrive.

"Mistress?"

"My quarters." She heavily breathed.

He gave a nod and she felt his magic coalesce with Hogwarts as the door she just exited opened and cobalt robes became visible before she was standing within her rooms. Blissfully…or perhaps thankfully alone, save for Elgin.

"Inform the house elves that I am resetting my password, immediately."

"And Deputy's Filius?"

"I will write him shortly." Her breathing noticeably labored.

"And the Professor's Hermione?"

Minerva's fingers slipped from the seam along her shoulder. "She, like the rest of the staff, will need to contact Filius this weekend."

"Mistress?"

She felt the seam give way as Albus' portrait came to life, and her outer layer of robes cascaded to the floor.

"Minerva?"

Emerald eyes snapped to blue ones, as a mixture of desire and grief filled her expression. "Elgin, please. It is of great importance."

He needed no additional prompting, and with a loud crack was gone.

"Dear?" Albus rasped as the rest of her robes vanished, and he found his desire for her…if at possible increase a thousand fold at seeing her flushed skin, erect nipples…moist hair...

"It seems I was wrong." She breathed, dreading the look about to pass across her husband's face and expressive eyes.

"Wrong?" He questioned, trying to remain lucid regarding the conversation and not the insatiable craving demanding his awareness.

"Yes." Her voice practically broken as she forced the horrid truth from her throat. A truth…that would test the very fabric of their love, and their bond. "As my body has found a singular person…it wishes to mate with."

The horror of her words eradicated the overwhelming desire that until a half second ago was about to consume him, "Who?" His voice belaying his dread.

A part of her was thankful for his feelings that had washed over their bond; it had helped to curtail the blazing need and fire across her skin. But, it also helped to reinforce, exactly how…serious the issue had just become. For, they were still married; still bound, tied forever, together…forever as one.

And as much as a part of her _wanted _release, _wanted _to feel heated flesh against her own skin, _wanted_ the ability to lose control in her lover's embrace, _wanted _to just…feel…it simply could not be. To do so…went against _everything_ in her soul, her very being…for she had given her heart, body and soul to Albus. And now…their love, their bond...their commitment might be at an end, because of a need she could not control.

Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she met his tormented eyes, "Hermione." She breathed into the silent room.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Hope you are still enjoying this seemingly unending story…and yes...there is a 'definitive' ending; in case you are wondering. And yes, this story will be completed; so take a deep, calming breath because, we haven't even hit the halfway point (New Years) yet. Thanks again for all your wonderful, encouraging words. They help to keep me motivated. Going to try and have another installment up in two weeks and then try to begin updating again on a regular time table as my work weeks have become more manageable (i.e. less than 50 hours). _


	47. Chapter 45 November 28th, 2009

_**A/N: I hadn't planned on posting this today, but…a nice soul left me a review and remarked that today was Bonding's one year anniversary. So…I came home, chained myself to the computer and finished the last two pages … and thought I'd celebrate with some Chinese, a congratulatory beverage (or 2) and an update for you :) **_

**Chapter 45 ~ November 28****th****, 2009 (Saturday)**

Helena stepped into the foyer of the ridge, immediately pulling her cloak tighter about her shoulders. "Minerva?" She yelled already rubbing her arms hoping to keep them somewhat warm.

"She is in the shower." Bonnie stated eyeing the Mistress' friend.

Helena's face pinched, "What? The Order will be here within the hour, and why in Merlin's beard is it warmer outside than in the house?"

"The Mistress has asked for it to be colder still." Bonnie calmly replied, "As for the other, you will have to ask her; though, you should know she…is not well today."

"Not well?" Helena began to move around the Matron house elf, but weathered fingers stopped her.

"Elgin stated that you knew of her problem."

"I most certainly do not know of…"

"That occurs every five weeks." Bonnie's voice surprisingly overriding Helena's growing shrill.

"Ohhh…" Blue eyes blinked, "Ohh…" And she grabbed her cloak to her and darted past Bonnie. "Is she in her rooms?"

"Aye." Bonnie stated as Helena began ascending the winding staircase.

"Please do put some wood on the fires," Helena stated pausing at the second floor, "The Order will be here and while Minerva may be uncomfortable, it would not do for anyone else to be the wiser."

"And Master Percival and Miss Tessa?"

"Both will be in attendance."

Bonnie needed no additional prompting, immediately apparating throughout the house to re-stoke the fires she and the other house elves had just recently extinguished.

Helena had thought the house had felt frigid, but upon stepping into Minerva's bedroom reclassified the rest of the house as cold, and her room as downright un-inhabitable. "Minerva?" She questioned as she cast a simple warming spell upon her cloaks to help maintain her own body heat.

The bay windows were wide open, the ocean breeze blowing its sharp cold air throughout the room; and upon stepping farther in, she easily deduced Minerva's whereabouts. She merely had to follow the trail of clothes. "Minerva?" She questioned again and felt her heart stop.

There, curled into a fetal position against the marble wall was her dearest friend. Her black hair plastered against the length of her back, water splaying against her back, waist, legs, and feet as her arms shrugged against her breasts…blue lips covering chattering teeth. "Dear God, Minerva…" She wasted no time, shutting off the water. "After everything you've been through recently; the last thing you need to be doing is lying in a freezing shower." She pulled her cloak off, draping it across her friend. "What were you thinking?"

"My skin…" Came the clattering reply, as blue fingers shook while bringing the cloak closer, "Has been on fire."

"I need to check your vitals." Helena wandlessly dried the area beside Minerva, sitting beside her while reaching up to pull Minerva's head into her lap. Fingers trailing down lukewarm skin as she adjusted her cloak upon Minerva's body. "You've probably relapsed yourself and have hypothermia."

"At least…" She gasped as a tremor went through her body, "I'm slightly cooler."

"Ohhh…dear." Helena's hand hovered by her forehead, "I thought it wasn't as bad as before." She deftly cast a diagnostic charm and the results caused her breath to catch.

"How…bad?" Minerva questioned between her chattering teeth.

Helena momentarily closed her eyes, "You can't tell, can you?"

Slowly, Minerva shifted her head, "N…o."

"You have a mild case of hypothermia, and the beginnings of frostbite in your hands and feet." Helena's voice taking on a clinical tone hoping to eliminate the pain she felt for her friend, "But, you were correct in that your core temperature is higher than 98.1; especially around your…reproductive system."

"Glad…you can see…for yourself…" Minerva's voice died away as her head sunk into Helena's lap.

"I believed you." Helena murmured while continuing to stroke her sodden hair. "I believed you."

"How long…Order…arrive?" Minerva's muddled brain trying to find clarity.

"Within the hour." Helena subtly cast a warming charm on herself and the top part of Minerva's body. "I need to help you up, and to get dressed. As I doubt, even in your current mental state, you would believe you're fit for company."

"Hardly." Came her wry reply as she struggled to sit upright, Helena's hand and arm helping to support her. "Don't…suppose…you have any medical miracles?"

"As I said before, there is very little written on the transference between animagus traits to their human counterparts."

"Please…" She gasped, "Promise me, you'll look."

"No promise is necessary, dear." She stood, and leaned over; blond hair falling forward as she braced Minerva. "As you look absolutely dreadful. I'm guessing, that on top of how you feel, you didn't sleep either?"

"Afraid…" Minerva felt her muscles pull and joints pop as she stumbled upright, practically falling back over as her partially numb body sought for balance. "Of where I'd end up once I became coherent again."

"First things, first." She pointed her wand into Minerva's room and the breeze instantly died away.

"After the windows are closed, of course."

Helena felt her world minutely lighten, as Minerva wasn't completely unwell, because she hadn't lost her sense of humor. "Yes." Helena agreed, "After that; and this weekend because I am guessing you have already made as many adjustments as you could to your schedule. But, moving forward, the days revolving your cycle have got to be cleared."

"Brilliant idea." Minerva said as she grabbed her own wand off the nightstand by the door and immediately dried herself and Helena. Before sitting down on the edge of the bed, making no move to dress herself farther. "I'll declare every fifth Friday a Minerva McGonagall holiday."

"I'm quite serious, Minerva." Helena rebuked.

"As am I, Helena!"

"I…" Helena snapped her mouth closed, "Aren't you going to get dressed?"

"Actually, no." Minerva leaned back, "Not until I have to. The robes make it worse."

"I thought those breathed."

"They do, but not as well as going without."

"And here I thought you abhorred the notion of being nude in front of others."

"You are not others, Helena. And yes, I am self conscious." She adjusted Helena's cloak to cover just her midsection, letting her arms and legs breathe. "You would be too if you had as many scars littering your body."

"Minerva are you…please tell me you are joking."

"I can't clear off every Friday that my cycle begins, as some items are beyond my control."

Helena opened her mouth to rebuke the onslaught about scars, only to find…herself blinking in shock. Her friend having switched topics mid-stream; immediately telling Helena how sensitive the topic truly was. "I…" She stalled for a heartbeat while she too changed gears. "Know that unless it is an assembly, that you can dictate your schedule. And even those can undoubtedly be moved; after all, how many people owe you a favor?"

"I am not going to start setting policy schedules because of an inconvenience."

"It's not an inconvenience, Minerva. We are talking about your life! And at our best guess, given the rate at which you are decreasing, you won't be alive in a year as it is. So, you damn well are going to start inconveniencing a few people or I'm going to march down to your precious Order meeting and tell them, with pain staking accuracy, exactly what you have been hiding and how little time you have left."

"Helena…" Minerva began sitting up.

"Don't cross me on this, Minerva. You'll lose." A sorrow filled note laced her words, "Especially today."

Minerva didn't have the energy to fight Helena and with a sigh, gave a nod. "Very well. Three days."

"All three."

"I'll make sure my schedule is clear, including the Order meetings and Hogwarts business."

"That includes Quidditch games." Helena remarked, knowing that Minerva regarded those as something else entirely. "Despite your belief, from what you said, you can't be around people. It only makes it worse."

"Unless it becomes person specific, then…it becomes less troublesome and tiring in large crowds."

"What happens when you are around that person?"

Minerva closed her eyes, trying not to picture the brown eyed vixen. "With each passing month, it becomes harder to control until…" Her voice broke as she finished, "I can't."

"And has that started?" Helena asked sitting next to her white knuckled friend, the sheet clenched within her fingers.

"Yes."

"Who is it?

"Can we…not talk about this now?" Minerva's broken voice raising another octave. "I…can't…do this…with the Order meeting…and…"

Helena reached up, tenderly wiping the stray trail of tears from her chilled skin. "Just rest for a few minutes, dear."

Minerva nodded as Helena softly repeated her previous statement, quietly adding a bit more. "I'll watch over you."

"I…know." Came the heartfelt reply.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione reached for the port key, but stopped. She was exhausted having tossed and turned for the most of the night and as important as it was to attend the Order meeting; she just didn't have it in her. Her mind still too scattered after dinner or more appropriately her thoughts while at dinner, last evening.

"Godric," She turned to the ever present distinguished wizard at the far end of her study. "Would you let Minerva and or Filius know that I won't be at the Order meeting this morning?"

Dark brows knitted together, "Are you well this morning?"

"Yes." She responded intending not to elaborate.

"And the reason I am to give them?"

"Ahhh…" She unfastened her cloak, "Fatigue."

"Perhaps, a more…elusive answer if you do not wish to be questioned later." He stated drawing a questioning gaze from her, "As both the Headmistress and her Deputy will worry with your first, shall I say, non-descript answer."

She sighed, "While not the best, it is the closest to the truth, I am tired Godric. Now, if you would be so kind as to relay the message; I am going to lie down for a time."

"Of course." He said and strode through his frame and vanished.

Hermione eyed the empty painting for a moment, imagining the vista and world Godric was from; and how much the world had changed in the past thousand years. How much it had changed in the last fifty…

And once again, enticing green eyes swam before her field of vision.

She had never really thought of Minerva as beautiful. Or thought of her for that matter as anything other than androgynous. She had been her professor. She was the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts while she attended school there. And now, she was the Headmistress. She was one of the premier witches in Britain, the world. Held a Master in Transfiguration, or rather was _the_ Master in Transfiguration. She was the epitome of a witch. What every student strived to become, at least on some level or degree. To have a career as distinguished or ability as refined; with a list of accolades and accommodations as long as the Astronomy Tower was tall.

But, in all of her ruminations over the years regarding the iconic woman, she had never thought of her as beautiful. Perhaps timeless. Classic. Elegant.

But never…beautiful.

At least, until Myriam and Rolanda's quiet remarks three weeks ago.

And since then…it was as if that notion, that very simple…yet basic concept had become insidious…as it crept through her meandering thoughts, noting how her eyes sparkled or the cut of her dress at the Witchery...

And she couldn't get it out of her head. If anything, it poignancy had become…greater.

"Dear Merlin…" She murmured into her pillow as she curled up on her bed, hugging another pillow tight against her chest. _It's just…a passing…_

_ What? _Her brain questioned. _Fancy? Crush? _She closed her eyes at that, _No…you've idolized her for so long…that…it's just your way of dealing with her as a person who you've had the privilege of seeing as a woman._

_ Yes. That's it. _Her rational brain began; _After all…you aren't gay. Not that she is. But, you aren't. Not that it matters, but still… You were married. Want to be married again after this…war…fight, whatever 'this' is. And…you want to be with someone like…_images swept through her brain of various wizards…and then stopped on Angelina. _No…she's too much like Ron. Dear God…_

Her eyes snapped open.

She had just thought about Angelina as far more than a friend. And while she didn't find the notion appealing, she realized it wasn't because she didn't find her attractive. Quite the opposite really. She did find the witch attractive. Exceedingly so. Long athletic body, brilliant kisser and deep olive green eyes…however, a relationship with her would be doomed to fail. Just like with Ron, as their similarities were too few and far between.

Hermione blinked…her world…seeming to have tipped upon its axis as she grappled with a startling truth about herself. That somewhere in the last two months, what had started off as an uncomfortable joke at her birthday had slowly morphed into a wisp of curiosity and now…she realized not only did she fancy wizards…but it seemed that witches had an equal ability to take her breath away.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva re-read the note a second time, feeling both elated and…worried.

"Everything alright?" Helena asked coming up beside her.

"For the interim." Minerva replied as her muscles along her back and neck began easing.

Helena's gaze swept over the words, "Perhaps with everything else going on, the meeting should be postponed for a week."

"That won't be necessary." Minerva banished the paper.

But it was her words that caught Helena's attention, and the healer immediately noticed the way Minerva's irises were easing; for some reason, her stress had just been reduced. "Excuse me? I just peeled you away from an icy shower…"

Her elegant head snapped up, jaw set, eyes piercing blue. "And the reason for that shower will not be in attendance."

Helena didn't even feel her mouth drop and form an 'O'…how could she, she was in shock. Clear, unequivocal…shock. _Filius…_her brain slugged forward. _Filius…? They were close…had known each other for decades…_

_ But Filius?_

Helena felt her bond ripple as her husband sought reassurance that she was indeed alright. And as she blinked, trying to find the words to assuage her friend that they would find a way through this, she found her mind had stopped on the incomprehensible notion, again.

_Filius...? _She didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she gaped at her dearest friend. _He was a stout friend, they had been through so much, he was her Deputy for Merlin's sake…but good God...he had been married for over thirty years; and he was…_ "I'm…" _Well…short. For lack of a better word. And while he and Pomona…but Minerva… _"How are _you_ handling this?" Helena asked, trying to recover from the staggering news. "And…I…talk about an untenable situation."

"I don't know what to think." Minerva admitted with a heavy sigh, "As the effect had begun to lessen by the evening, I thought…" A weary face met Helena's, "Perhaps, I would be spared this misery."

"What are you going to do?" Helena half whispered, half gasped as she began to realize the depths of the ramifications. "And Pomona…"

Minerva's face twisted in question as Helena continued on.

"How…they've been together for over thirty years…she'll think he doesn't love her."

"What?"

"Filius…"

Despite the circumstances, the oppressively long day ahead of her and the fact that Minerva didn't know what to think of her current predicament; she found a laugh bursting from her lips at Helena's remark. "Filius?" A rich, earthly laugh rung across the wood, lighting her face and easing the incredible amount of stress from the past day. "You thought…"

Helena's laughter joining in chorus as she realized that her assumption had been wildly off the mark.

"I…" Her accent thick with emotion and still laced with humor, "Was referring to Filius?"

"Certainly, because the other person…" The laughter all but gone from her voice, as comprehension dawned as to who she _was _referring to.

The last of the mirth died away from emerald eyes as Minerva finished Helena's dangling sentence, "Is a woman."

"Hermione…" Helena breathed, thunderstruck.

The sudden silence in the room was deafening as the two women stared at the other.

"Mother…" Tessa's distinct lilt permeating the air, "Bonnie said…" She opened the door to see her aunt and mother immediately turn to the door; her aunt's face trying to cover up the last vestiges of shock; whereas her mother…portrayed her usual calm and unflappable self. "We were just tiding up." Blue eyes fixed upon first her mother then her aunt. "Everything alright?"

"Fine, love." Minerva stated as she wandlessly summoned her wand, "We were just discussing Helena's presentation this afternoon."

"Oh…" Tessa's gaze shifted firmly towards Helena, "I hadn't read that you had an exhibition or seminar today."

"No, no…" Helena's muddled brain idly wondered how Minerva knew of her presentation to the funding committee for Transfiguration research for human reversal, but then again…it was dealing in _her _realm and while she doesn't sit on their committee, Minerva undoubtedly has a say where the money is allocated. "It's a funding committee…" She began while they started walking out of Minerva's rooms. The two long time friends sharing another potent look…

Blue and green…both displaying a sea of worry.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Can we see Aunt Minerva?" Large brown eyes blinked up at her mother in question.

Hermione easily smiled down at her daughter, "There's a quidditch game this afternoon…" Her voice was immediately drowned out by her daughter's.

"What about after?" Rose ran to the curio cabinet and pulled a manila folder forward. "Just for a minute mom! Promise. We want to give her," She handed the folder to her mom. "These."

Hermione easily took the folder, "We can ask Milksy to let us know when she is available." She noticed Molly's soft smile as she opened the folder to see several drawings; the one on top was a great rendition of Hogwarts with her children, herself, Minerva and Milksy standing beside Hugo.

Rose pulled the folder down so she could see too, "That is of my family at Hogwarts." And she flipped over the first drawing, "And that…"

Hermione glanced to Molly, her gaze questioning, but Molly merely nodded back to the folder as her daughter continued on.

"Is of Nana and Papa Granger, us and their house." Rose flipped to the next drawing; "And of Dad and us." The picture was of the three of them outside a quidditch stadium and Hermione fought her desire to ask when they had gone to a quidditch game recently. "And of MeeMa and PeePa Weasley, us and…" Rose winked at her grandmother, "The gnume garden."

"Gnome dear." Molly corrected.

"Yeah," Rose flipped to the next one, "That." She glanced up to her mom to gauge her reaction.

Hermione stared at it for a moment, heart stopping at the scene…one she knew was from a few weeks ago; and had obviously left a deep impression upon her daughter. And she couldn't help but wonder if this is what Minerva was dressed in before she had awoken that morning, "And what is this one?"

Molly frowned and stepped forward knowing only of the four drawings and was surprised to see a fifth. And even more surprised to see a second picture depicting a scene with Rose, Hugo and Minerva McGonagall in a very uncharacteristic ivory looking robe with emerald pattern with several small animals about the room and a tea cup floating in the air.

"Us learning 'bout magic." Rose continued on, "Me and Hugo want to give this to her and ask her to help aminate them so I can give them as a present to you."

"Animate." Hermione enunciated.

"Aminate." Rose repeated.

"An…i…mate."

"An…imate." A smile instantly appeared on Rose's face as her mom nodded that she had said the word right. "Do you think she'll help us?"

"I think if you ask nice, she might." Hermione began to pull her wand out, "However, if you would like, I can animate…"

Rose's eyes became the size of saucers, "NO!" She said snatching the folder from her mom's hands as she shook her head no. "Aunt Minerva." She stated firmly.

Hermione went to ask why, but Molly put a hand on her arm. "I didn't animate their first drawing correctly."

"MeeMa, you is really good about lots of magic, but Aunt Minerva is better at that one." Rose turned to her mom, "And…" She glanced to her folder a minute and back up, "I don't want to redo these mom, so I only want Aunt Minerva to do it. Alright?"

Hermione fought off a chuckle, "That's fine love. Now," She nodded towards the living room, "Why don't you go get your things in the living room?"

"Alright mom." She skipped away.

Molly barely waited a moment, "She really seems taken by Minerva."

_She can have that affect_, Hermione thought but smiled to her now ex-mother-in-law. "They have started seeing Minerva each visit to Hogwarts and she has been nothing short of phenomenal with them. It was surprising at first, but I have to say it really helped me to see a very different side to the Headmistress." A warm smile lit up her own eyes, "One that until my tenure at Hogwarts, I never imagined existed."

"I'm glad they are getting to know Minerva in a way that most never do, but…" Molly paused unsure of how to continue, "With everything else going on regarding Harkiss, do you think that is wise?"

Hermione felt her back straighten and jaw immediately clench at words that had not so very long ago been echoed by Molly's son. "Hogwarts is one of the safest places in Britain." Her throat becoming tight as she continued on, desperately trying to keep her voice level. "And as for Minerva spending time with my children, I find it remarkable that they have managed to ensnare her; and that they have the wonderful privilege of learning aspects of magic that I could only hope to teach them."

"So…you aren't trying to keep them away? Even though Harkiss is after Minerva and her family? And with you helping her…I just think…"

Hugo came running into the room with his bag dragging behind him, "Ready mommy."

Hermione waved her wand and his items swirled upwards and then shrunk and landed in the palm of her hand; which she made vanish into her robes. "Come on, pumpkin." She said leaning down, and he quickly clamored upwards into her arms and he rested against her shoulder. "Rose?"

"Coming mom." From the inflection of Rose's voice, Hermione could tell she would be joining them momentarily.

Hermione turned to Molly, "As I told Ronald, if something were to happen; it would not be because of the Headmistress as she would not place an innocent in harm's way. You of all people should know that." Hermione admonished.

Molly visibly bristled at the comment, "I never meant to insinuate that she would, quite the opposite. But, she is a target."

"We are _all_ targets Molly."

"I…"

Rose had a large painted cloth bag dragging behind her with her folder clutched to her chest. "You shrink this mom?"

Rose watched in awe as her mom made an efficient arc with her wand and her bag lifted up and magically shrunk away. "That is so cool." She murmured before turning to her grandma. "See ya soon, MeeMa." She said and gave her a half hug, making sure not to scrunch her pictures.

"Bye, Mema." Hugo yawned waving.

"I'll drop them off Sunday evening." Hermione curtly stated, already beginning to leave; and not wanting to further discuss what they had been in mixed company.

"Hermione." Molly quickly moved forward blocking her path, "I'm just worried."

"We all are." Hermione admitted, "Even Minerva."

Rose tugged on her arm, "Aunt Minerva isn't worried." She said as though it was a universal truth. "She's the Headmistress of Hogwarts. And they'se never worry. That painting from Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry's house that's also in Aunt Minerva's office said so. He said, they are too busy to be worried or scared or even upset."

Both Molly and Hermione's gaze instantly dropped to the young girl, "And why did Severus tell you that?"

"Because…" She tipped her shoe upright and ran it along the floor. "I dropped Aunt Minerva's ink pot." Her head remained buried beneath her hair. "It went everywhere." Slowly she raised her head, "It was an accident."

Hugo nodded his head, "All over my puppy too."

"And he got prints everywhere…"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Have you lost your mind?" Helena wildly admonished as she gaped wide-eyed at Minerva. "Truly and utterly finally lost it? Perhaps a chemical imbalance from what is going on in your body…"

"Oh do grow up, Helena." Minerva snapped. "As it is perfectly sensible."

"To change places?" Her voice immediately rising two octaves, "Perhaps for a few minutes, but for an entire afternoon!"

"Yes, Helena. For an entire afternoon." Minerva leaned forward, the sun glinting off her remarkably clear emerald eyes.

"I loathe quidditch." Helena murmured as a heavy sigh left her lips. "And, you…you would have to present my grant to the governing panel." She reached up and pulled her own glasses from her eyes, "And Harold will be there too." Their eyes locking, "As it's a black robed event and you would have to socialize with…a small intimate group; many whom I've known for decades."

"None of that is insurmountable," Minerva reached across taking Helena's hand, "If you are willing to try and be me, at a quidditch game and surrounded by Hogwarts' professors for most of the day."

"Alright," Helena conceded to the horrific idea, her shoulders dropping. "I'll do it. But if you don't get my grant, _you_ are paying for the damn research yourself and; Harold…" Helena felt Minerva squeeze her hand, and she tried to return a partial smile; but the most she could do was grimace. "He'll know."

Minerva carefully eyed Helena, knowing that while Helena had consented it was more out of obligation at this point than belief that they could actually do what she had suggested. "Remember in our fourth year when we were the other for a week."

A genuine smile broke across Helena's face as she recalled what had been undoubtedly one of her top three most memorable weeks, ever. "Yes…" Blue eyes began lighting up from within, "And you or rather I had James following me around; and you…" A laugher erupted her lips as the memory momentarily came to life in her mind's eye. "Cast a sticking charm that…stuck to _everything_."

A smile was playing at her lips, "Except me."

Blue eyes measured green ones, "Do you really think it'll be as easy now as back then?"

"No," Minerva answered honestly, "As we both have so much more to lose and our lives are extremely complex. However, I think we can both succeed."

"And this evening, I want the details regarding your cycle and how it relates to Hermione…"

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Milksy," Rose burst into her mom's rooms looking for the tiny creature. "Milksy?"

"Here's young Miss Rose." Milksy stated as Hermione closed the door to the corridor.

"Can you ask Aunt Minerva if she has time for me to see her?"

Large yellow eyes flickered to Hermione who gave a nod, "I'se see. But she'se just returned to Hogwarts."

"So did I." Rose stated, "But I want her…"

"Remember what I said on our way up here." Hermione walked out of the room with her sleeping son. "That Minerva has a very busy schedule today and she may not be able to see you. So you need to ask, politely."

Rose's face scrunched up as she turned back to Milksy, her voice dropping. "Do you mind asking for me Milksy?"

A disappearing flash was her answer, and she jumped up into the air while waiting for her response.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No, that's Millicent Stevens." Helena stated, "And how can you not know this? She is a transfiguration master, sits on their board…"

"And also plagiarized her first level thesis and had her initial mastership revoked. So, forgive me if we don't travel in the same circles."

"Well that isn't highly publicized."

"Her great-grandfather was William Berkley, and while the mentor was accurate; he didn't want it highly circulated. Now, you said Jeffrey had two sons."

Helena nodded as they both began to ascend the stairs. "Christopher and Scott."

"Mistress." Elgin was peering down the stairs. "Young Miss Rose would like a few moments of your time."

Minerva practically faltered in her climb, only a half century of habit had enabled her to continue on unabated. Somewhere, the minor detail that _this weekend_ Hermione's children were visiting Hogwarts had been forgotten; and she felt her heart sink at potentially not keeping her promise to the two children. "I...please tell her that I was unavailable."

"Of course." He went to snap his fingers, but she reached out and stopped him as she approached.

"Also," She paused at this point to look him straight in the eye, "I need two 240 milliliter flasks filled with polyjuice potion from the Hogwarts stores."

"Mistress?" He had known her a long time and only once other had she made the request; as she knew how to _alter_ her appearance without a potion.

"With haste. As both Helena and I have other places we need to be."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione stepped onto the pitch, eyes immediately gravitating to the teacher's box where Minerva typically sat. And was both saddened and relieved to find that Minerva had yet to arrive. The air had a healthy chill to it; and she was sure as the afternoon waned, it would become downright cold. Hopefully, the game would be resolved quickly; not that she wanted a short match for either team but the last thing that Minerva needed was to be outside, indefinitely.

"The sun and a few warming charms…" Neville stated as he strode up next to her. "Make the day rather pleasant."

"Yes." Hermione agreed, walking beside him. "And your guess as to who will be the victor?"

A shy smile passed across his face, "As neither team playing is Gryffindor, I hope the best team wins."

"Even if that's Slytherin?" Hermione asked smirking.

"Perhaps not." Neville stated climbing the stairs beside her, "But, old habits do die hard."

"They do." Hermione agreed. "And I believe that Hufflepuff may have a chance to beat them this year."

Only half the professors had arrived, enabling them to pick their seats; Neville steering them away from where the Headmistress typically sat. "Do you know if she's coming today?" He asked, eyes indicating who he was referring to.

"I believe so. Wasn't she at the Order meeting?" She asked, suddenly worried that she missed something this morning.

"Yes, though, she seemed a bit…preoccupied."

At this, Hermione felt her pulse increase. "How so?"

Neville adjusted his cloak. "Don't know." He pulled out his wand, "Just a feeling."

Hermione tamped down her desire to ask farther, knowing that now was not the time or place to ask. "Speaking of…how are you and Luna doing? Have you had any opportunities to dance since we last did?"

Neville's normally reserved manner dissipated; "Not yet, however, Luna and I will be attending the Ministry's holiday ball. And she's been taking lessons, so…" A large grin flashed, "I'm hoping we'll be able to dance most of the night. And you? Are you going to attend?"

"The holiday ball?" Hermione asked for clarification.

"Figured you might." His voice dropping, "It'd be a great opportunity to meet someone or to arrange a meeting with one of your daily suitors."

An audible sigh left her lips, "Neither option sounds appealing."

"Then, perhaps for an evening of frivolity?"

"I doubt it." Hermione replied, "They used to be barely manageable when I was married, let alone single and deemed…"

"One of the most eligible bachelorette's in the wizarding world." Neville finished.

"How comforting."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva watched as Helena adjusted her cloak, "Who tailored these robes?" She asked, "And don't say Meredith, I know better."

"I believe those are from a boutique in the States." Minerva stated, trying to shake the uncanny feeling of…watching herself.

Helena moved, feeling her hip light up in pain; Minerva innately reached out to steady her. "You never said that your hip was _this_ bad."

"Take a draught, as the weather will make it worse and you won't be able to block it from Harold."

"Barely noticeable." Green eyes narrowed. "I _should have_ known better."

"Here." Minerva took a piece of parchment from her desk and with a series of flicks the paper transfigured into a long ebony walking stick that mirrored the one she typically morphed from her own wand. "You'll need this too."

Helena snatched the cane from her hand, eyeing her wand in Minerva's hand before it vanished into maroon robes. "Remember, I _don't_ have a Scottish accent."

"And don't forget, that sometimes I do." Minerva countered.

The two women stared at themselves for a moment, Helena stilling her nerves. "It's almost 2 and you'll need to get ready; I was planning on wearing…"

"I'm a transfiguration master, Helena. I'll whip something up."

"Just…please remember that you are being me."

"I will try." Minerva stated, "Though," She flexed her hip, "There are a few advantages to being you." At Helena's disapproving look, she shook her head; absently noting the strangeness of seeing blond in her peripheral vision. "One last thing." She cleared her throat, "Elgin."

Immediately he appeared, turning to Helena. "Mistress?"

Minerva smiled, "That is I for the next few hours."

At once he turned, face blanching. "I'se…Blondie's you'se is not the Mistress…"

"We both took polyjuice Elgin, and I have need to be away from Hogwarts for the afternoon with no one knowing. Helena has graciously accepted to be me, and I need for you to ensure that our ruse remains intact."

"I'se…" He serendipitously glanced to the woman who _looked _like his Mistress. "I'se…do not fully understand." He turned back to … the Mistress. "But I will make it happen."

"Thank you." Minerva stated before turning to Helena, "I will be back as soon as I can be."

"Remember Stella..."

A muted rush swept through her office, "The game's about to start," Blue eyes darted to the window, "You need to go."

"As do…" Minerva vanished, "You." Helena finished to herself…and Elgin whose face split into a grin.

"That was the Mistress." He said relieved.

"Yes," Helena turned to him, "It was. Now," She gripped the cane in her right hand, "If I can please…"

Her question went unasked, as his magic coalesced and the room vanished and she was standing at the back of the professor's box upon the last stair before entry. _Middle seat, sixth row from the front. Filius will be there…_ Minerva's voice echoing in her head as she felt a cold sweat rush across her skin, _This can't be any harder than standing before a Ministry investigatory board…_and she stepped into the box, schooling her features as a rush of faces greeted her eyes. _Oh, but it is._ She fought her anxiety, thanking Minerva's forethought at the mix of potions she drank before attending to help blanket her bond as she began nodding to the throng of professors who all began tilting their head to her in respect.

She saw Filius and with a wave of relief, gripped the head of her walking stick tighter and veered in that direction as she murmured a string of hellos.

"Good afternoon, Professor." Filius' good spirits lifting her own.

"And to you…Professor." She caught herself, _You are Minerva McGonagall…_she repeated. _And as such, need to conduct myself as the ultimate professional…at all times._

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva swept across the front lawns of Helena's, feeling the wards shift as they recognized her and she wandlessly opened the door. "Honey, we need to leave." His voice coming from the den, "How long until…" His voice trailed off upon seeing her, "You're ready?"

She could feel the heat flush in her cheeks at his obvious pleasure in her appearance. She had forgotten how it felt to be noticed and appreciated.

"When did you purchase that? And when…" His voice dropping as he neared, rumbling across her skin. "Did you have time to slip it on?"

"I was with Minerva and running late." She stepped nearer, letting her fingers trail across his shoulder.

"Remind me to thank her," He leaned in and Minerva shifted so his lips met her cheek.

"If we start that," Minerva breathed in his ear, "I'll…"

"Be late." Harold murmured stepping back, "And if we don't go soon…"

Minerva easily discerned his look; she had seen the same barely bridled hunger in _his _blue eyes. "We won't."

Harold held out his arm, "Ready love?"

Minerva slipped her hand through his arm, kissing his cheek before gently holding on; and leaving the Hovel. She felt the wards wash over her, and Harold stopped and with barely a stroke of his wand; they were standing at the precipice of a vortex. _Remember, you're Helena._ Harold began moving and she forced her legs to walk, _I'm sure she does this all the time…_

And they stepped through nothing…and into Helena's office.

_How convenient. _She thought as the fireplace roared to life, and Dilys' portrait wishing her good afternoon with twinkling eyes…

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena felt her bond jolt as Rolanda, _Professor Hooch_, she silently corrected put the game into its frenzied play. And...she turned inwardly, momentarily ignoring Filius' commentary to match his feeling. Their desire growing.

She could see herself stepping into the hallway, or at least…Minerva…and wondered what Minerva had chosen to wear to cause Harold to react, as he had.

"…and contact the centaurs?" The diminutive wizard finished as his eyes watched Neal Rae weaved past the Hufflepuff beaters, leaving only Vicki Gratin, Hufflepuff's keeper in his way.

Helena belatedly realized that perhaps…she shouldn't have tuned him out quite as much as she had; quickly trying to recall the tendrils of conversation she hadn't been listening to. _And centaurs? Why would Minerva need to speak with the centaurs? _Her gaze flicked to the forest and back as the young black haired player scored; and she idly clapped with the same enthusiasm Minerva had two weeks ago when she had attended then too. "I will speak with…" She paused, desperately trying to think of a name of the ruling body. _Who had Minerva said was Ryklar's father…?_ "Tenian."

Golden eyes peeled away from the game, "I was unaware he had returned."

Helena purposefully dropped her voice, "He has not, but he can still send word through the Council."

"Then you found him?" Filius questioned.

"…." She cut off her initial response that Rory had as a _truly Minerva_ response fell from her lips. "Not entirely found, but able to deliver a message."

This seemed to placate Filius for what she was sure would amount for mere seconds, and she was about to return her attention fully to the game; but her eyes stayed upon the black cloak and chestnut hair two rows forward. She only permitted her gaze to remain a hairs breath more, and as if sensing her gaze; Hermione turned to her, their eyes briefly meeting and she gave her an infinitesimal smile before sliding her attention back to the game.

Peripherally, she could see that the younger woman remained turned for another five seconds, and Helena…couldn't help but wonder if Minerva's problem was stemming from a mutually growing attraction between the two. Her eyes involuntarily watched the quaffle move back and forth between Hufflepuff's chasers, mind still upon the woman befriending her friend.

_ One thing was for certain,_ _Minerva did care for Hermione. A great deal. Whether that was as a friend. As a colleague…no…_she expediently remedied that thought; _as she hasn't opened up with one of her colleagues in decades. Goodness…she didn't think Minerva thought of Hermione as…a daughter._ Bile rose in her stomach at the notion,one she immediately dispelled. _As she had seen her treat Hermione not as she did her children…rather the beginnings of an equal. Whereas her children_, Helena inwardly sighed, _were…forever, her children. Of course she treated them as adults…just…never quite equal; as they could never get past the very simple fact that their mother, while an icon to the rest of the world, was still…'just' their mother. She was not a saint, was not invincible and could not right their every wrong; despite their belief that she could. Perhaps that is where the difference lay with Hermione and Minerva's interaction; for the first time in decades…there is someone who actually sees Minerva as simply, Minerva._

Helena flinched when one of the riders was struck by a bludger in the thigh. _She'll need to be treated for a severe contusion of the muscle…_

"Professor," She vaguely recognized the voice, tilting her head to see the alabaster hand and recalled the albino professor. _Hesch?_ She thought. _Yes…that's it. Matt…no…Mitchell…_

"Yes?" She feigned that she was indeed watching the game, as he leaned closer. _Mark…Marx…yes, Marx Hesch. Lived in Germany for a few years, works on Arthimancy…_her brain stopped as she thought of Meric's texts, _bad idea._ She counseled herself.

"As things are progressing, I believe we can save you the trouble of having to move the House Cup this year."

Pomona and Filius turned…

"The year is young." She replied.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Minerva found that despite narrowing her eyes, she…couldn't see the print for easy reading. Sighing, she went to reach for her own glasses, and chastised herself as she pulled the silver frames from her small clutch. _Remember, Helena._

Instantly the print snapped into focus, and she scanned the document.

"Worried you've forgotten something?" Harold joked.

Minerva paused, glancing up. "Just want to be prepared."

"I still don't know why you didn't ask for Minerva's help when preparing this." He absently stirred his drink, "She would have helped and you would be far less nervous about receiving the funding."

"We've already covered this." Minerva stated matter of factly, not wanting to hazard a guess as to why and returned to skimming the proposal.

"Actually," He paused, "You should have just asked her to come and present your proposal to the panel." He chuckled, "The look on their collective faces as she dispelled their arguments would have been priceless."

Minerva momentarily gave up reading; _Did Helena believe that the Transfiguration panel would be that challenging? Perhaps she should take a more active role…_a soft sigh left her lips, _When? _She silently berated herself, _It's not as if I have time to worry about…_She felt broad arms reach out, pulling her into his warmth as a light kiss touched her forehead.

"You'll do fine, love."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Everything alright?" Neville asked as his friend resumed watching the game. "That's the sixth time this hour."

"You said she seemed distracted?" Hermione didn't bother with a reference point, knowing that Neville would understand as a silencing charm washed over them.

"Yeah." He murmured, "Why?"

Hermione resisted the overwhelming urge to glance back _again._ But…something…was off. However, she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Minerva was sitting beside Filius and Poppy; engaging in wisps of conversation…not truly looking engaged as typically did when speaking with someone. _Perhaps distracted is all that it is. _"Are you sure there was no news regarding Harkiss?"

"Since the incident at Azkaban, no one has had any news or leads."

"Was Harold there this morning?" Hermione questioned trying to ascertain the reason behind…the subtle shift in Minerva.

"No." Neville thought back, "Actually, he hasn't been to the last three."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Questions?" Minerva asked eyes roving over the group, wishing that more than half would place their gaze elsewhere for even a moment; their intense stares raking over her skin…_A day and a half more,_ she mused.

"And who will be spearheading the research?"

"Virgil Nexus." Minerva smoothly replied, remembering the driven wizard from his time at Hogwarts. He was a level two master and was well on his way to becoming a level three; he just needed a bit more time to refine his skills.

"Is that wise to have someone so young?" Amanda Coventry asked, before expanding the reason for her question. Minerva had always respected Amanda's direct approach, while she never had the natural ability to perform Transfiguration; her theoretical research had always been decades ahead. "It is difficult to reverse any transfiguration spell, _if_ you know the spell. But you are seeking to delve into a realm that no one has had success, Healer Harrison. Or at best, nominal success. And you are seeking to do so with what amounts to a novice in the field; when you should try and obtain someone who has more experience, including research experience."

The twenty person panel group were all nodding their heads at Amanda's statement, and Minerva suddenly felt sorry…for what Helena had to listen to everyday…and also the group before her; for what they would have put Helena through. _Oh…yes, she had every intention of rebuking their imprudent babble…the only problem was; that she had to do it with Helena's…tact._

"I have found in my research," Minerva felt her unemotional mask descend upon her face as Millicent continued on. _Research…ha…_Minerva silently thought, _you wouldn't know what it was to do research if it came up and bit you in the arse. _"That there needs to be a baseline," _To pilfer from,_ "And as there is practically no baseline nor beginning reference point…"

"If I may," Minerva interrupted unable to listen to Millicent for another breath as she stepped to the side of the podium, gently leaning against the side. "I would like to clarify a few points." She watched as Harold quirked his brow, and she gave him a soft smile of reassurance before beginning.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Helena bit the inside of her cheek, her fingers already having gone numb; she'd need to cast another warming charm soon before she had hypothermia. _How in Merlin's beard does Minerva do this? She hasn't got a blessed extra gram of fat to burn and if this is the extent of what she wears…_

She felt a tingle along her ribs, indicating that she needed to take another dose of that wretched tasting potion. With a subtlety that would have done Minerva proud, she slipped a small pill into her mouth; and broke the capsule…and schooled her face to keep from souring as the gelatinous liquid eased down her throat.

Poppy quietly inquired.

Helena quirked her brow, "Half as many as she recommends."

"You know she just worries."

"That she does." Helena agreed, "Stifling so at times."

Poppy couldn't stop the smile from touching her eyes, "And are you any less _stifling_ to her?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harold's distinct hand came to rest solidly across the middle of her back, "Dear." His voice stiff as he joined her.

Subtly she leaned into him, and farther away from Jayson Wisley who was becoming more and more talkative as the minutes ticked on.

"If you will excuse us Jayson." She veered away, ensuring Harold followed.

"Is there something in the air?" He murmured, wondering why Helena was leading them _towards_ the small band.

"I'm beginning to wonder. But if there is…" She replied as she slipped her hand down, into his and motioned to the opening on the left. "Why not take part?"

Blue eyes sparkled, "Interesting suggestion."

She twirled around and back…landing in his arms; "At least its quiet here."

His chest rumbled, "And I have you to myself again," The band changed pace, to a waltz. "For a few minutes."

Minerva easily adjusted to his tempo and rhythm, "It does seem that over half of the attendees have been watching my every move."

"I noticed." Harold whispered, more to himself than to her.

"And I you." Minerva tenderly replied, falling into his blue eyes…trying to conjure an image from memory…of when Albus' gaze would meet hers…to see his love reflected; and she in turn…met Harold with that same look.

A gaze that lasted for a moment; burning…and then she was twirling about the floor. Her mind however not upon the dance, that was something she could do without thought; rather…two very distinct items. The first…a warm happiness that Helena would have at minimum a passionate evening awaiting her. It was the least she could do…for all that she had done for her.

The second…was regarding her current dance partner…and while he was fluid and obviously comfortable with his wife; it was equally evident that they did not dance often. A shame really, as it was a wonderful way in which to express…love.

And as they moved, she idly thought of another dance shared; not so long ago at the Manor. One that encompassed a brunette witch, whose form now mirrored Harold's…but, that she had a natural grace and…she brought her meandering thoughts to an immediate halt.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Professor," Helena inwardly groaned, it was one thing to speak with Filius or Pomona where she had years of experience to draw upon, but Hermione…was _very _different. She had only spoken with the young witch a handful of times. "I was hoping to speak with you for a moment."

She didn't draw to a halt, her hip was too sore and she still had another 250 meters before reaching the Oak Door; she merely turned. "What can I help you with, Professor Granger?" Helena watched as Hermione's face flinched at the use of decorum. _So, only Hermione…in private._

Hermione stepped beside her, brown eyes gazing across angular features. "Rose was hoping to see you this evening."

_Rose…_Helena recalled Elgin's appearance before the quidditch pitch and her curiosity was beyond piqued. _Rose is the name of one of her children. Not one of the other Weasley's children; but Hermione's. _"Unfortunately, I am already overdue at Helena's. Please give her my apologies."

Hermione felt a faint smile grace her mouth as she recalled her daughter's adamancy in having _Aunt Minerva 'aminate' them_, "She's hoping you can animate a few of her drawings that she and Hugo sketched out while at Molly and Arthur's." She glanced to Minerva, noticing the lightness of her eyes that mysteriously…unguarded and open. "Molly tried to animate one and now she only trusts you."

Only her years as the Administrator of St. Mungos kept her face non-responsive. _Apparently, she had been wrong…Hermione and Minerva 'were' friends. There was no ambiguity, especially if Hermione's children trusted Minerva to 'that' extent. _"I will be glad to animate them, I'll have Elgin collect the drawings and have him bring them to Helena's."

"No, it can wait." Hermione said, eyes searching Minerva's. "Are you sure that _you're_ alright?"

"Fine," Helena lied feeling as though the day had been nothing short of a whirlwind, "A bit cold." She drew her cloak tighter about her to highlight her discomfort, and in an effort to end the conversation. Helena gave her a genuine smile, "I will endeavor to see Rose tomorrow. Now, if you will excuse me, Hermione; while the game was exciting it has left me incredibly late. Good day."

Hermione didn't have an opportunity to utter a response as Minerva was quickly striding up the last of the lawn; boots already clipping across the flagstone stairs. _She can move quickly when she wants too, _Hermione thought watching as Minerva disappeared behind the Great Oak door. _And, why the sudden formality and then informality? _

Shaking her head at Minerva's peculiar behavior, she began walking again. She needed to check on Rose and Hugo and let Rose know that while Minerva couldn't see her today; she would animate her drawings for her.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

She swiftly moved beside Mitchell, _not good_. She silently thought as they rounded the corner, away from the reception.

"Seems as though two aurors went to apprehend someone, got into a battle and," He reached out staying his mentor's body a moment, swallowing hard. "There was a lot of collateral damage, including a bus of muggle children."

_Triage first. _"How many injured?"

"87 muggles were injured, five extreme critical and 2 dead."

"Aurors?"

"Alive, but we need to get Jane or…" A feeling of dread suddenly trickled down her back, he would only ask for Jane if there was a _bad_ mis-transfiguration. "McGonagall for Potter; and thank heavens you are in to help with Weasley."

She didn't let her gait falter at the notion of who was ahead and behind the critical doors. She recalled strands of an 'old' conversation.

_ "I understand, but still when you walk into that room; there can be no emotion Minerva."_

_ "That is an impossible feat," She had rebuked._

_ "Not impossible." Blue eyes burned in defiance, "Very very difficult. And something that has taken me decades to learn."_

_ "Your skill is without question the best I have ever seen, my friend. But I canna believe when you walk into the room, you have no emotion guiding your hand or spells."_

_ "I save those burdensome, pesky feelings for after the incident."_

"Have you sent word to Minerva?"

He paused, "I thought…" Questioning gaze upon his face, "You only wished to ask her if it was beyond Jane's purview."

"Old habits." Minerva mumbled, knowing that Helena only recently altered her policy.

"Why did you stop asking the Headmistress?"

Blue eyes flickered over, and her answer stumbled from her lips as if without thought; "Because we need to trust in others and spread the knowledge."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena felt a wave of relief wash over her, _she had done it. More or less; with only a few bobbles and items for Minerva to 'clean up' and attend to. _She opened the weathered door to Minerva's office, feeling giddy.

_She had been right, we could do this._

"You _must_ get to St. Mungos as once!" Dilys called from her frame before her foot had even stepped fully into the Head of Hogwarts office.

"What has happened?" She began running forward, knocking a chair over in the process. "Is Minerva alright?"

"Yes, an accident involving one of the Weasley's and close to 90 muggles, mostly children."

Her hand plunged into the floo powder, "Dear heavens." She murmured as Mitchell would have 'her' oversee the triage, because she was there. _Damn. Damn. _"St. Mungos Administrator." She crisply called out. _Damn._

"Helena," Albus' voice barely halting her departure, "Don't forget the antidote."

She snapped her head, and glanced at the bottle resting unobtrusively upon the table…and at once, her right hand sunk into her robes; an ebony wand coming out and…with a flick it zoomed forward into her waiting fingers before she stepped into green flames.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva schooled her features, striding ahead. Mitchell already veering off to assist with the children. _Left is Potter; right is Weasley. _She repeated to herself with a measure of resolve she didn't feel, pulled open the door to the left to see Harry Potter or rather, part of him; as only his jet black hair remained. His face had become that of hybrid between an anteater and an equine; half his body had hooves the other stubby fingers…

"What in heavens were you and Weasley in?" She muttered to herself, as blue eyes traveled down his body with a keen eye; seeking the base spells for the botched mess before her.

The door opened again, and she twirled about…relief instantly settling in her muscles at seeing…herself. "Dilys _informed _me that you required my assistance." Came her familiar voice as Helena closed the door.

Minerva already pulling Helena's wand and casting privacy and silencing spell. "You have no idea."

Helena walked up to Minerva, eyes sliding past her and to the gross mis-transformation of Weasley. "No wonder Harold felt as he did," She glanced back at her, a half smile upon her face despite the seriousness. She tilted her head to Potter, "Can you...?" She nodded to the jumbled of limbs.

"Weasley's next door and needs _your _expertise." Minerva stated, holding Helena's wand out; which was gladly traded.

"Here." Helena enlarged the container in her palm; and took a deep swallow before handing it Minerva.

Minerva followed suite, blonde hair melting away to rivers of black…and Minerva quickly transfigured her clothes back before her body finished transforming; and at glancing up to Helena…she arched her brow and waved her wand transfiguring Helena's emerald robes into the long flowing black dress.

"Minerva," Helena reached out, "You and I both know this is well past Jane's ability, and while I know you may be able to help; should you?"

"I believe it is all surface transfigurations, and not at the base level; which is not cumbersome and somewhat easily reversible."

"If not?"

"Then I don't know if I'll be able to help Harry…"

The door went to open, but remained closed causing both women to look towards the doors. "I need to go next door." Worried blue eyes turned to her friend, "If it is too much…"

"Go." Minerva nodded, but Helena remained steadfast…even moving forward, embracing her stubborn friend.

"Don't do anything stupid." She muttered as they pulled apart.

Minerva's brow rose, "I wouldn't dream of it."

Chuckling, Helena went to stride from the room, walking stick clicking across the floor.

"Helena…"

She paused about to push open the door, "What?"

"Would you be so kind as to leave the last of the evidence?" Green eyes darted to the cane ensconced in her hand.

"It does have an appeal…" She set it against the frame and in a whirl of black was exiting the room and bolting into the one on the right; Minerva could hear the tendrils of her voice before the door firmly closed and she was once again, alone.

She cast a simple revealing charm and sighed. She knew the spell work, _Harkiss._ "You daft fools." She muttered, "You're lucky you're both even alive." Absently, she rolled her wand in her fingers as she scanned his mis-shapened body trying to determine what spell would have merged two very different transfigurations and not have killed him. _Unless he was trying to kill him and was interrupted…by Weasley? _She supposed, there were some positive attributes to being Mr. Weasley's friend after all.

She continued to slowly circle around his body…green eyes absorbing the depths of the botched transfiguration as her mind churned through a potential reversal process.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena breathed a sigh of relief, _Weasley would make it_. _He would have a scar from shoulder to torso, but he was alive and overall; came through, whole. _"How's Mitchell doing with the children?" She asked stepping away and pulling her coverlet from her dress.

"As of ten minutes ago, he lost two more. It seems as though their bodies had started to be transfigured; an arm and leg; nothing close to the organ, but their bodies…"

Helena's eyes widened as she finished his horrifying statement. "Kept transfiguring, but only partially. Dear heavens," Her eyes cast a glance back to Weasley, "Check him and all of the victims for any, and I do mean any transfiguration."

"Healer…"

"NOW! And report back to me immediately how many people we are talking about. Call Jane, Virgil…the entire division…" She burst through the doors, "Go!" Ten of her staff scattered faster than cockroaches and she went to open the door to Weasley, only to find it…locked.

She jerked on the door, "Minerva!" She yelled, praying that she hadn't cast a silencing charm too. She pulled on the handle again, and again it remained steadfast. With a flick, she sent a patronus through the door; and counted to ten in…Gaelic today as the Scottish witch behind the door was testing her patience...

However, much to her surprise, a moment later her patronus darted back through the door, circled her legs and vanished as magic began leeching out from the room behind the sealed door. A cascade of blue could be seen ebbing out from the walls…the doorway…

She felt a hand grasp her wrist pulling her backwards as she went to reach for the handle. "Clear the area!" One of her healers called out, as Helena staggered backwards another two steps.

She saw someone dart to where Weasley was, and she stopped fighting the person and took another step with them…while turning and around to see Indril. "Let go." She directed, eyes seething.

"You know as well as I, that magical discharge such as that can be deadly."

"Let. Go." Her icy voice reverberating through the ward as the healers and patients gathered closer to her and the mysterious _discharge._ Helena turned back around, stifling her gasp…as the magic now extended out from the room by one meter and appeared to go from floor to just under 2 meters…

_Minerva's height…_Helena thought…watching as the blue light shimmered turning a faint green, with flecks of blue swirling through it.

"What is that?" Someone asked…

"Who's in there?"

Helena didn't have to answer; half of the healers in the room had seen her enter as Minerva. And the strands of conversation continued on around her…

Her thoughts turning to the woman who was in there…

And what she was doing to save Potter's life…and she knew why, Minerva was doing what she was. He was so much younger…she was giving him the opportunity to have a life…

_Life…_

She blinked, focusing on the walls of St. Mungos and bringing clarity back to her world…

_The children._

She spun around, "Where are my reports on the children?"

The clustered witches and wizards scattered like marbles, except for Mitchell who was walking forward. Blood littering his robes, voice troubled. "I lost another one. Whatever she was exposed to…" He shook his head, "Were like the other two and became lethal." His eyes shifted past Helena, "I take it we are beyond Jane's scope for him?"

His casual demeanor regarding the sight before him brought a much needed smile, "It does amaze me that you are scared to death of her, and yet…you can be so…nonchalant and similarly awestruck regarding her expertise and ability."

His dropped two octaves, "That's because she is one of the most impressive witch's in the world…whom was here as a patient and just happened to permanently damage her hip and have both her employer and best friend, one Albus Dumbledore and her other best friend, _you_ to explain what I did…before having to explain it to her."

"Are you saying that was a bit intimidating?"

"That was the two years of scholarly review, study and research after." He said light-heartedly. "And…having to conduct a six month internship with the Hogwarts Matron…who reported to _her._"

"Yes, well…in this instance, Minerva's expertise would be most welcome. From what was reported, some of the children are beginning to transfigure."

"Starting off as external limbs, but it doesn't stop nor is it the whole body."

"Organ failure." She stated, "What area?"

"All three were different failures."

"Did you call anyone…?"

"Jane tried to assist with the last one, but…it was as if the girl's body wouldn't transfigure back."

Helena's gaze shifted back to the magical wall…the colors shifted again, and wisps of emerald melted away into swirls of alabaster. Her mind upon the children…and who in Europe could perform reversal transformation spells…beside Minerva.

"Helena…" A petite woman gasped stopping beside her and Mitchell out of breath, "Another four are showing symptoms for a total of 16."

Helena didn't move. She couldn't. How could she…three children already dead. Another 16…would be within…Merlin knew how long…and by spells that shouldn't have even been given the breath of life.

She needed to speak with Minerva. "Mitchell…"

Her eyes flickered across magical barrier.

And she needed to speak with her soon, before she had to bury another 16 children. "…Go and get my husband."

"Is he still at the reception?"

"Yes." She quietly breathed. "And hurry." She drug her eyes to his, "I need him to help me get through _that_…" She pointed backwards, "wall."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"You alright, mom?" Rose watched as her mom shook her hand, again.

"Huh…" Hermione glanced to her daughter, "Fine, honey."

"You need to go to St. Mungos." Godric stated disturbing Hermione and her daughter.

"What?" Hermione stood up, absently shaking her hand again as the tingling drifted up her arm. "Is someone hurt?"

Dark eyes flashed to Rose and back, "Perhaps Milksy will watch your children?"

Worry flooded Hermione's veins, "Milksy." She summoned her outer cloak and turned to the small elf. "I have need to leave, please watch Rose and Hugo until my return."

"Why can't I come?" Rose asked standing up.

"Because darling, I need you to help Milksy watch your brother."

"Ohhh…" The young girl's head darted to the pillow in front of the fire, "But he's sleeping…" She whined.

"Rose Jeannette Weasley that will be all young lady." Hermione's firm voice instantly stopped any further comment. Even Milksy's ears partially flattened.

"Yes, mom." She quietly replied.

"That's my girl," Hermione nodded to Hugo, "He'll need to get up soon and both of you need to eat."

"We will." She murmured. Then an idea flashed, "Is Aunt Minerva back, we could maybe stay with her?"

"She's with her friend…" Hermione's voice trailed off, turning back to Godric; eyes widening at the possibilities.

"I'll make sure we eat." Rose glanced back at her drawing no longer interested in finishing it.

Hermione, on the other hand, still hadn't moved. Brain processing a jumble of words, as though like word association. _Friend - Helena. Injuries - St. Mungos. St. Mungos – Helena. St. Mungos – Minerva. Minerva – Injured…? _"I love you." Hermione whispered suddenly bending down kissing her daughter's cheek. "And I'll be back shortly."

Rose nodded. "Love you."

Hermione sealed her cloak, stepping from her living room and into her den. "Godric, can I access the Headmistress' office?"

"Of course, it is not sealed." His voice dropping as she neared the exterior door to her chambers, "Your friend Mr. Potter and your previous husband are being treated."

_Her word association hadn't brought her close to the truth, _"How bad?"

"Dilys stated they were critical."

Hermione's gait, if all possible, increased; and with a deft speed she swept down the flights of stairs, thankfully not seeing any students and veered off on the second floor. Her feet easily taking her to the familiar destination and before the weathered gargoyle. She didn't bother to wait for it to awaken, already uttering the password and as if sensing her haste; it moved atypically fast…and in half the usual time, she was at the door which had been left open.

Obviously in someone else's haste. Her eyes also noticed the turned over chair…but she couldn't worry about such things, now.

"Severus…" She called out as she neared the gallery of portraits.

With a guttural acknowledgement, he turned to her.

"Can you please let Ginny know that Harry and Ron are in critical condition at St. Mungos?"

"You are sure?" Severus asked, glancing to Dilys empty frame.

"I have just spoken to Dilys." Godric replied as his body solidified in the Founder's joint frame.

A flash of green in the fireplace ended their conversation and Severus left as Hermione fire called the Burrow. "Molly, Arthur!" She called out, and after a heartbeat, called again. "Molly, Arthur!"

Feeling the seconds crawl by and still no response she spun around, grabbing up a quill from Minerva's desk, "Where does she keep blank parchment?" She asked to no one in particular, but the room answered in a chorus.

"Top right drawer."

She quickly penned a note, not bothering to wait for the ink to dry as she folded it. "Elgin." She called out moving back to the fireplace.

"Professor's…"

"I need a favor, Elgin." She interrupted, "Can you please see that this," She extended out her hand, fighting off the need to shake it again. "Gets to Molly or Arthur Weasley?"

Yellow eyes met worried brown ones, "At once." He took the letter and she was already throwing floo powder into the grate.

"St. Mungos." Her voice clearly called out and was gone.

Elgin rolled the letter over in his weathered hands, and was about to leave when Bonnie' presence emerged beside him. "Bonnie's…"

Her eyes glanced to the empty portrait of where their Master now lived, "Where is the Mistress?"

Elgin frowned, "At St. Mungos. Why'se?"

Bonnie leaned in, clutching at his shirt as she wept into the soft material, words barely audible. "The Master…is in terrible pain."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harold, breathlessly, stopped…and openly starred.

"Dear." Helena drifted up to him, "Harold, dear." He blinked and met her gaze. "I need you to help me get to Minerva."

"That's…" He reached over and pulled her to him as they moved away from the small cluster of healers. "Her entire magical signature." He snapped. "_Outside_ her body." At her obvious lack of understanding, Harold tried another approach. "We've tried to do that at the Department, but there has been no way to sustain the power necessary…ohhh, dear…" His voice becoming grave as a flash of understanding past between them.

"Hogwarts." They both quietly uttered, eyes trailing back to the sage green, alabaster and interspersed flecks of sapphire. He subtly cast a silencing charm, no longer willing to even chance someone overhearing their conversation.

"There are three signatures there…" Harold barely breaking a whisper.

Large eyes snapped to his, "There can't be." She hissed, "It's a medical…"

"Impossibility." Harold grimly acknowledged.

"She's…" Helena clutched at her chest as Harold's gaze met hers, feeling as though a whole had just been carved through her heart to her soul. "Still bound to Albus." Her hand coming to her mouth as eyes widened even farther in shock…pain…heartache…

"And Hogwarts." Harold interjected.

"I…" She fought back the swell of emotion, "I…" She felt his arm wrap around her waist, steadying her as she closed her eyes, large tears splashed down her cheeks. Her broken voice and shattered feelings breaking his own heart as she reigned in her own feelings to deal with the need of St. Mungos. "I need you to…help me get through."

"It's beyond our scope of knowledge." Harold succinctly stated with a soft shake of his head.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione stopped as she rounded the corner, awestruck. Her eyes feasting on the unusual display of magic ahead; she could see it from the end of the hallway and it was a solid 30 meters away. But it looked…well…like the consistency of an electrical discharge in a swirl of beautiful green, pearl and just a hint of blue.

"Never seen anything like it." A man said nodding ahead. "Suppose to be some type of magical discharge."

"Really?" Hermione heard herself say, "From what? The energy being expended must be tremendous for that large of a discharge." She remembered reading an article two, maybe three years ago, that postulated why discharges were so lethal and thankfully, so small. "And I'd venture to guess, unprecedented."

"Don't know all the details, just that McGonagall…" The woman didn't bother to hear the rest of his statement as she darted through the growing congestion. "Whose she think she is…" He muttered after her.

* * *

oxoxo

* * *

Minerva could no longer feel her arms as she felt the transformation slipping backwards, "No!" She gasped, her bond pulsing…as she drew upon it…more.

"Aghhh…" Came a cry from the man…in time with her own, helping her stiffen what remained of her resolve. While not a son by blood…she had a deep fondness for the young man; who had seen far too much…and done too much for one of his age.

_I'm not a squib…yet._ She thought, mentally forcing her hand to tighten around her wand.

And she arced her wand again before fluttering it upwards; her other hand joining suite…

_If this is to be my last spell…_she thought as a deep lancing pain burst in her chest, _Then let me cast it well._

And she pushed her morose thoughts aside, fingers becoming stiff as her hands began glowing…and she started once again. Not letting the pain become a distraction…or the growing stiffness…or ache in her muscles…merely focusing on the magic until she could no longer cast it silently…

Her words slipping into Gaelic…as her magic…her soul…pulsed…

And she felt the transformation warble…

They were so close…she could see what needed to be done, as her limbs burned in fire…her magic…utterly spent.

_Not yet…_her mind screamed…unwilling to let Harry die…after having lived through so much.

And she forced her bond forward…drawing upon Albus…Hogwarts…herself…and finished the spell…

The only noise coming from her ragged breathing, as she fought to remain upright…and then she felt the sudden drain…the collapse of her magic…coalescing…

And then the spell roared to life…pulsing outwards…

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione veered toward Helena and Harold, who were separated by almost four meters; give or take. "Dilys said…" She began, but felt her ability to speak faltered at seeing Helena's obvious distress as Harold nodded for Helena to turn, and brown eyes first landed upon the tear streaked face and haunted blue eyes.

Harold gave a subtle wave of his hand, "Hermione." The gravity of the situation was evident by the inflection in his voice.

She forced the overwhelming urge to wretch away for another minute, "Harry and Ron?"

"Ron will be fine." Helena cleared her throat in a vain attempt to keep her voice steady, "Harry was…" She could feel new tears running down her face, "Badly misshapen and…" She turned back to the shimmering wall, "Minerva is trying to help him."

Hermione knew from Helena's tone, and the open expression of distress…meant one thing…whatever Minerva was doing, was not in her best interests. "And…that?"

"Magical discharge." Harold succinctly stated while feeling a light squeeze of his arm.

"Is there no way to get through?" She went to step around the Harrisons, who were by far the closest to the disturbance, but Harold's hand darted out and grabbed her upper arm.

"No." Harold said shaking his head, "There is not."

Hermione turned, "I can't believe…"

A quiet 'pop' sounded, and heads turned…Helena and Harold already moving forward, immediately joined by Hermione. The discharge had vanished…as had the tingling in her fingers.

Automatically, she flexed her hand...as Harold stepped in front of both women, hand reaching out for the door…

When the tingling rushed back up her hand…becoming prickly, almost like a thousand stingers…the air suddenly shifted...and she could feel a deep thrum in her bones…and then it was...blissfully gone.

A loud roar of magic pulsed outward from the secluded room…

Sweeping down the long hallways, traveling though the walls…and finally seen dissipating in the waning sunlight as the percussion knocked down healers, patients, and visitors…while the magic simply washed over the entire second floor of the fabled institution.

A magic…Hermione had felt before. At least…partly.

It was Minerva's…but…it held a deeper resonance…

Hermione suddenly had an overwhelming desire to sleep. It was like she had just engaged in a duel. She blinked, and Helena was already standing and opening the door; Harold…

She scanned the area, was nowhere to be found.

Forcing her limbs to move, she scrambled upright; and went to jerk the door open…only to find it sealed. "Helena!" She tugged again, shaking her head awake as she reached into her robes to draw her wand.

She cast 'Alohamora', the door remained latched. And as she raised her wand again, it cracked open and Helena stepped out. "You may enter Hermione." Blue eyes scanned past the crowd as the young woman entered. "Mitchell," She absently wiped the tears away, she'd worry about Minerva momentarily. _Right now, she needed to find out the effects of the spell that had just touched every person or very near to everyone on the 2__nd__ floor…and potentially coordinate off and quarantine the 2__nd__ floor of St. Mungos._

_ Hopefully, upon returning to Hogwarts, Minerva will be cognizant for a moment or two and tell Harold, 'exactly' what she did._

_

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_

Hermione immediately turned, expecting to see Minerva…somewhere, even upon the floor…hands burnt, but still there. Somewhere. Emerald eyes tiredly meeting her gaze as she half-heartedly smiled at her. However, the room was empty, save for her pale looking best friend lying on the examination table.

Not even Harold was within. Without thought, Hermione innately stretched her magic, intent to apparate and follow Harold to Hogwarts...but she could feel the anti-apparition wards resonate against her. "What the hell…" She scanned the room, again. It looked, normal. "How the hell did Harold do that?"

Nothing was amiss, save for a few papers and a chart upon the floor to the right of the door. And there…leaning against the frame was…

_Minerva's cane. Or rather wand._ She corrected walking forward, and grabbing the familiar object. One she had seen be magically morphed from cane to wand in a heartbeat countless times. Idly she turned the ebony cane over in her hands, glancing at infinitesimal engravings that could not be seen unless held. Denoting a truly skilled craftsman.

Returning her attention back to the room, she looked for any additional clues and frowned when her eyes landed upon a dark wand only a meter from Harry's bed. Three steps later, she felt the creases of her frown deepen as her eyes recognized the all too familiar object.

_Minerva's wand._ She picked it up and her eyes scanned the wand and then the walking stick. "Since when does she carry both?"

"Both…what?" Harry's scratchy voice interrupting her own muddled thoughts.

Instantly her head jerked up to see blinking green eyes, "You alright?"

He slowly brought his hand up to his head, "Bit tired and…light-headed." He muttered, "But…" He narrowed his eyes, "At least I'm…" He pushed himself upright, bits and pieces of his robes clinging to his arms and chest as the rest of the material pooled at his waist. "Human."

The doors burst back open, causing Harry's eyes to dart upwards and Hermione to spin around. "Lay down, Harry." Helena stated striding forward, "Now. You are far from healed…"

"But I feel…"

"Human?" She interjected, "You can thank Minerva later for that improvement, but that'll have to wait while I repair your broken ribs and give you something for your bruised organs."

He adjusted himself lying down, "I don't feel…"

"Your body's in shock and I doubt you'd feel a herd of hippogriffs running over you at the moment." She turned to Hermione, "If you can wait outside or accompany Mr. Weasley to the recovery area…"

"And Minerva...?"

"Already receiving treatment," Helena's eyes bored into Hermione, "She overexerted herself, and once I'm sure she is stable I'll release the room number."

Nothing more needed to be said between the two witches, the meaning clear.

Minerva was already back at Hogwarts.

* * *

Oxox

_A/N: Does anyone know of a good sketch artist? If so, and if you think they'd be interested in a bit of work; can you PM me or ask them to? As always, I do hope you enjoyed the meandering twists and turns and __deeply thank__ all the wonderful words of encouragement this past year. To date – Bonding is 724 pages; over 360,000 words and...have only had one passionate scene depicted. Hopefully, in a year, I'll be re-reading the story in its entirety with a footnote at the end of the journey with the above statistics slightly larger - ;)_

_See ya soon…_


	48. Chapter 46 November 29th, 2009

**Chapter 46 ~ November 29****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

Tiredly, Filius entered his quarters, the fires already stoked. "Pomona?" He called out walking forward.

"How's Minerva?"

He shook his head, "Not good." He unfastened the upper seam of his robe, "Helena has barred entry to even the children."

"And…?"

_"She lost a fair bit of magic tonight, Filius."_

_ The diminutive wizard remained steadfast, "How much?"_

_ "Another third, perhaps more or less. It has buoyed some in the last hour, but her body is still…healing."_

_ "And the children?"_

_ "Can wait until she is awake."_

_ "Helena, do you think that wise?"_

_ "No, but prudent." Helena's jaw tightened, "She is determined to keep the severity of her condition ambiguous and if the children see her right now…they will know she is not well."_

_ "From what I gathered, she was trying to help Harry?"_

_ Helena gravely nodded, "Harry and Ron were in a duel with Harkiss and he cast a combination of spells that caused Harry's body to be transfigured into two mammals and still remain a small part human."_

_ Filius grasped the back of sofa to remain upright, "She didn't try to undo the transfiguration…"_

_ "She did." Harold deep voice cutting in. "And paid for it, severely."_

_ He turned, eyes level with the mysterious wizard. "How overextended did she stretch herself?"_

_ Husband and wife looked from one to the other, and slowly nodded. Helena motioned for him to enter Minerva's bedroom, and with a wave, he floated beside her…his spell all but faltering as he gazed upon his friend. "Ohhh heavens."_

"Helena is going to wait until she awakens before moving forward. She overexerted herself and will…" He fought the harrowing sight from his memory. "Need to rest for some time to come. And before Minerva has to deal with her children, she wants to speak with her."

"And the staff?"

"Will be directed to me for the interim." He quietly replied, feeling her hand gently rub his back.

"Why don't you lie down for an hour before breakfast?" She leaned down kissing his cheek, "I'll wake you."

"I'll be fine." He patted her arm.

"Filius, you've been up all night…" She began worriedly. "First with Minerva, then the repairs on the collapsed food storage cellar."

"And I still need to finish repairing that prior to lunch." He glanced up, "There doesn't seem to be a cause, rather that the room imploded. However, when repairing, the beams were solid and the stone sound."

"Another day…"

"I'm afraid not dear, as there is only space in the auxiliary cellar for transitioning the dry goods to the main one or for food preparation for the day. And I can't ask Tily to resupply an entire day of dry goods, each day."

"Will they be able to salvage any?"

"Not much. The flour…" He smiled, "Is as deep as I am tall."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tiredly, Hermione hugged her cup of coffee to her chest. Her brain sluggishly waking up as Hugo sat by the fire stacking blocks as tall as him and then pushing them down.

Yesterday had been nothing short of emotionally exhausting.

Her small discord with Molly regarding Minerva, of all people. _Really…what was she thinking? That only Minerva and her 'associates and family' are targets._ _Which, last evening easily proved otherwise as both Harry and Ron were attacked. _

_ And their attack…she still didn't know the details, both wizards had slept the whole of the evening; recovering from their injuries. But, she had almost lost both of her very dear friends. _

_ And her children's father. _Her vision remained fastened upon Hugo, _For either of them not to know Ron…and his eccentricities. Or Harry. _

_ However, luck had been all their side, again. Ron saved by Helena; and Harry by…Minerva._

For the umpteenth time since she had rounded that corner and learned that Minerva, not Helena, was behind the magical discharge trying to save Harry…her thoughts, revolved around the woman.

She couldn't shake the notion from Helena's haunted expression that she had also come very close to losing Minerva too. And, she had not been able to see Minerva since _the event_ to put her mind at ease, unlike Harry and Ron. While they were both unconscious and they couldn't have visitors remain with them, their family and a few assorted friends had been able to _see _them.

Minerva, however, was totally unavailable.

It had been late when she had returned to Hogwarts, her children both fast asleep; and she had asked Milksy to remain for a few more minutes enabling her to see how Minerva was. The gargoyle had deposited her on the second floor, but Harold stood steadfast in the doorway. Face stoic, though the redness around his eyes betrayed his feelings.

_"I'm afraid, no one is permitted entry; Hermione." He gravely stated. "Not even you."_

_ Hermione's eyes flashed past Harold toward Minerva's bedroom and slowly back to him. "Is Helena…here?"_

_ "She's busy." He replied._

_ "How's Minerva?" The cadence of her voice dropping in proportion with how his face fell as she asked it._

_ Blue eyes scanned hers, sending chills down her spine at the grief peering at down at her. "She overextended her magic and severely stressed her body."_

_ "How burnt…was she?" An image of Minerva pushing her charred, exhausted body towards the gates of Hogwarts after the night at Simmons flashed through her mind, and she felt sick to her stomach._

_ A pensive expression passed across his face as he decided whether to tell her, "Badly." He rasped._

_ "Worse than…" Hermione's voice faltered as she forced the words from her throat. "When Esmerele died?"_

_ Haunted eyes stole her breath and cut into her soul, stilling her heart. "Yes."_

…

"Morning…" Rose sleepily stepped into the living room, rubbing the corner of her eye with the back of her hand as she drug her binky behind her. "Mom."

"Good morning sunshine." Hermione smiled at her daughter who continued traipsing across the room to the loo.

Rose stopped, face turning back to her mother, so open and …angelic. "Did Aunt Minerva aninate my pictures?" Large brown eyes, filled with hope starred up at her.

"Yes." Hermione whispered, forcing her eyes to remain level with her daughter. "Go to the bathroom, wash your hands and brush your teeth. And they'll be ready for you." Hermione didn't have to give a second prompt as Rose streaked forward, squealing…

"Yeeeaaaaaaa…" And then her voice was gone as the door to the loo closed and Hermione was already scrambling forward grasping the manila folder, coffee sloshing onto her wrist.

"Damn." She muttered, shaking the coffee off before flipping open the folder to the handful of pictures. Wand in hand, she silently uttered the incantation to animate her daughter's pictures…not wanting to disappoint her daughter, because their 'Aunt' saved their father and Uncle's lives but…didn't quite manage to animate their drawings, even though if it was within her power, she probably would have done that, too.

Hermione had no doubt about that.

Her eyes stayed on the last drawing, a gentle smile fluttering across her face as she stared at Rose's 'Hogwarts' family' and the way Rose leaned into Minerva, wrapping her arms around her in a hug…and then resetting.

"Wow." Rose said leaning over the arm of the sofa, "She did it." She said in awe, "I knew she could."

"Yeah." Hermione turned to her daughter, blinking back tears at just what Minerva could do…and would do for those she cared for. "She did."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_Minerva shifted, feeling warm. "But I'd rather stay." She murmured, tucking her head into his shoulder. "Even if for just a little longer."_

_ "As would I, but the fact remains that you need to wake."_

_ "Ahh, dear sir…" She rolled on her side gazing into his twinkling eyes, "Your seemingly sound logic is faulty."_

_ A coy smile crinkled the corners of his lips, "And the basis of your supposition?"_

_ "If I awaken, then I lose you and…"Her voice became laced with emotion, "I grow weary of a world without you by my side."_

_ He reached out, long fingers etherly brushing across her skin. "And I am tired of drifting between worlds without your wit and beauty beside mine."_

_ "I…" _She felt a weight settling in her bones, and his face was already fading from view. "Pl..ea..se…don'…t…lea..ve…Al…bus." Her words falling upon two worlds as she reached out, to find _everything_ ached."

"Don't move, dear." Helena cooed as she gently cupped her hand.

"...ena?" Minerva blinked, the world unwilling to focus and she gave up trying at the soft response.

"Yes." Helena squeezed Minerva's hand. "I'm here."

"Can't…" She licked at her lips, "Focus."

"You're just tired, love." Helena felt a tear slip quietly on her cheek. "And need to sleep."

"…'ry?"

"He's recovering but, he'll be fine." She removed her hand from Minerva's and reached over, pulling a potion from her end table. "As are all the children." At Minerva's shift in features that began to show her perplextion, she hastily added, "I'll explain later."

Minerva tried to nod, settling instead for a swallow. "What…day…is it?"

"Sunday." Helena whispered, "I'm going to give you a dreamless draught…"

Green eyes shot open, irises trying to focus as Minerva _tried_ to move to sit up. "I can't, I'll…"

She gently laid her hand on Minerva's shoulder. "Have to trust me." Blue eyes bored into hers. "If ever…" Her voice breaking, "You are to trust me, Minerva…_you _need to today."

Minerva reached forward, feeling Helena's hand…and how she was holding a botte within it. For a moment, she wrapped her hand around Helena's. "Always."

Helena fought the temptation to rebuke her statement, knowing that Minerva had spoken honestly. She just wished, Minerva had told her about…Albus. And she would ask her…however, now was not the time. "Here." She pulled her hand out from beneath Minerva's, "Drink this."

Gradually, with help, she lifted the bottle to her lips and slowly drank the fluid. Helena taking the bottle as she finished, "Really…tired." She murmured as Helena helped her ease back into the bed.

"I have no doubt." Helena banished the bottle and reached over, taking a cool cloth from the water basin, squeezed and then wiped Minerva's feverish skin. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

"…liar…" Minerva murmured, blindly reaching out, feeling a hand clasp her own.

"Better is such a relative term that I figured I was safe." Helena retorted.

"When you're worried…" Her fluttering eyes beginning to wane as her muscles relaxed, "Never…good."

Helena leaned forward, pressing her lips to Minerva's fingers that were encased within her own. The skin still red and warm to the touch…but far better than the blackened skin that caked over 70 percent of her body. Her soft breathing had become rhythmic, and Helena answered her statement. "You're right." She whispered, "It's not."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"For the next week." Filius answered.

Silence greeted his response.

"Have you seen her?" Rolanda broke the uncomfortable silence, asking what everyone wanted to know; but no one was willing to ask.

Thirty-eight pairs of eyes landed upon him, waiting for him to answer. "Yes." He slowly stated.

"And?" Marx leaned forward, "How is she?"

Filius pondered the question, weighing the pros and cons in how to couch his response. He elected to relay the information in a format that his colleagues would understand; "She stretched the limits of her magic, straining to perform the spell necessary to assist Harry; and Helena believes…actually overextended."

A series of gasps swept the room, Neville leaned forward not understanding. "What does that mean?"

"Each person only has so much magic, energy; it is no different than not being able to run forever. And, yet; when she hit her threshold, she pushed past it. Which typically results in a significant injury. As if she kept running and her fatigued muscles would collapse causing her to blow out her knee." Poppy turned to Filius, "The handful of recorded times this has happened, has resulted in…heart complications from the stress to the body, becoming a squib and even death."

"Filius?" Marx turned to him, "You didn't answer the question."

Worried eyes now met his, "She's alive, exhausted, and not awake when I saw her." He held up his hands, motioning for them to quiet back down. "And beyond that, I _strongly_ encourage you, _all_ of you, to keep the speculation to a minimum and remember the facts. Also," Golden eyes scanned the room, trying to keep his voice and manner light. "I would ask each of you to bear in mind that we are talking about the Headmistress and she has done and lived through the unthinkable before. Now, I need two volunteers to assist the elves at 3pm when the delivery arrives to the kitchen for an immediate re-supply of our dry goods."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harold went to prevent Rory from entering, and Rory cocked his brow. "Not t'day."

"She isn't awake, Rory." Harold said placing his hand upon the highlander's arm.

"I understand." Grey eyes mirroring the pain embedded in blue ones. "But did she wake up?"

Harold nodded, "Briefly."

"A start." Rory stated, "And Helena?"

"Here." She said stepping onto the balcony. "Come on up Rory."

He gave a nod, "Tessa and Percival have already both asked that I force you to let them see her."

"Not until she wakes back up." Helena firmly replied.

"They will never forgive you if she doesn't."

"Thankfully, we are not at that stage." She said watching as his body and face immediately relaxed.

"Then she'll live?"

"At least until her next stunt." Helena retorted causing a quaint smile to cross his face.

"Then let us hope that is at least well into next year."

"For both of our sanity," He wrapped his arm around her, both moving forward, "I can only hope."

He kissed the top of her head, "Me too."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"But…" Brown eyes blinked up at her mom, "She promised."

"I know, honey; but she won't be able to make it today." Hermione stated, wishing that were not the case, for so many reasons. The largest staring back at her, lip quivering…

"She said, she'd come see us." A large watery tear slipping off her small lashes and glistened in the afternoon light. "She promised."

"Oh…honey, I know she had been planning to see you and was _very _much looking forward to it as of Thursday."

"Really…?" Rose asked wiping her eyes with the back of sleeve, "She didn't just forget me?"

"No, Rose." Hermione felt a deep pain stab her heart, as she quietly continued on. "She didn't forget you."

"Sure?" Rose worriedly gazed at her mother.

Hermione walked forward, kneeling in front of her daughter. "I'm sure." She said, and opted to tell her daughter a half truth to ease her child's burden and belief that Minerva had forgotten her. When that was so far from the truth, it hurt. "Because you know how sometimes your Dad can't make it to pick you because of work…"

She nodded, "Yeah; but Aunt Minerva is the Headmistress of Hogwarts and everyone works for her…"

"They do." Hermione agreed, "But you know how sometimes, your Dad and Uncle Harry have to apprehend, go after, people who hurt others?"

"Yeah," Rose sniffed, but otherwise stared wide-eyed at her mom, absorbing the words.

"Aunt Minerva helps to do that too, and sometimes, it causes her to be busy. Even when she doesn't want to be."

"Like Dad and Uncle Harry?"

"Yes." Hermione succinctly and sincerely replied as she watched her daughter's sharp young mind process the information.

"She's the Headmistress." Rose finally stated voice becoming firmer, "She has to be able to do all kinds of _other_ stuff too." A prideful look beaming outward, "Isn't that right mom?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Ginny brushed his hair from his face, "You were lucky."

"Yeah," He turned his face into her hand, "We both were." His voice soft, "I don't remember how I avoided the Avada Kedarva, I just remember an intense flash and then everything went black." He paused, "Nor how I got here?"

"Do you at least still remember your name?" Hermione asked with a smile, and Harry felt Ginny and then Hermione prevent him from getting up. She leaned over giving him a hug and then a kiss on his cheek.

"I think." His eyes twinkling as she met down.

"Well, that's a start." Hermione took her friend's hand as she sat down opposite of Ginny on the other side of the bed. "Who were you and Ron pursuing?" She gently asked.

"Harkiss." Harry's simple statement drew a gasp from Ginny.

"Why didn't you call for assistance?" Hermione's voice rising an octave.

"There wasn't any time." He stated, "We came around the corner talking about…" He mentally chastised himself, "You and your children and who they are interacting with…"

A deep burning rage erupted in her chest, "Stop. Harry."

He continued on, "And I reminded him that all of us were targets. He and I more so than even you or McGonagall and his thoughts regarding you or the children being in any greater harm's way with her being around them or not was absurd."

Ginny stared at Harry, obviously shocked by his statement too. Hermione merely squeezed his hand, relishing in the depths of his friendship. And his wisdom.

"And that if they have an opportunity to be around the Headmistress on a personal level," An infinitesimal bit of envy flashed across his green eyes, "Then they are quite lucky."

"Harry, Ron has a point…" Ginny began, causing Harry to turn his head and narrow his eyes and Hermione to quirk her brow at her friend. "Despite your beliefs, Harkiss is intent…"

"Upon becoming immortal." Hermione interrupted. "And will harm anyone who stands in his way or whom he deems he needs information from." Her voice raw, "Including you, me, Harry, Ron, Minerva, dozens of Hogwarts professors, their families…and ours. So, please enlighten me on how my children are at a greater risk than yours?"

Ginny straightened her shoulders, no longer looking at Harry, "McGonagall has been engaged in almost every battle with Harkiss or his entourage. How can you not see the parallel between Harkiss targeting McGonagall?"

She felt a light squeeze of her hand, and knew it to be Harry offering his support. "Or perhaps you can choose to look upon it as someone who is trying to prevent further bloodshed and save lives; including _your _husband's. She was nowhere near Harry and Ron and still, she was involved."

"Nor was she involved in the incident at Borgin and Burkes." Harry interposed, and Hermione fought hard to keep her face from showing her shock.

"I'm just worried," Ginny confessed, "For not only you both, but Ron, the whole family…especially the children."

"As am I." Hermione whispered, "And from what I have seen the past couple of months, there is every right to be."

Both women stared at the other for a long moment before Harry shifted breaking their quiet conversation, "We need to start traveling in pairs to even stand a chance at taking him, let alone surviving."

"Is he really _that _good?" Ginny questioned.

"Yes." Both Hermione and Harry answered in unison.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"I'm not an invalid." Minerva snapped as she flipped the covers off, an audible sigh leaving her lips at seeing her flushed skin…and not clothes. "But I may very well make you one if you don't start remembering, clothes." She slowly sat up, Helena moving forward.

"You may not be, Minerva; but you greatly stressed your body in its entirety." Helena slipped her hand around Minerva's waist. "Easy."

Her muscles protesting as she stood, leaning more upon Helena than she'd have liked. "You'd have it no other way." Minerva snapped, wishing she could move faster. Wishing she didn't feel as though her body had been placed into a cruciatus curse for an indefinite period of time. She grasped the door frame, steadying her body. "I'm better." She whispered, "I'll move slow and call if I need help."

"Here." Helena moved away, coming back and handing her…her the cane that had been transfigured for Helena to use yesterday.

Minerva eyed the object for barely a moment, before a shaky left arm took the offered item. "Thank you."

Helena nodded, and then forced herself to remain still and not help Minerva as the stubbornly proud woman closed the door to the bathroom, body barely upright…skin still flushed...

And she would willing watch the heart wrenching moment a thousand times, because, that would mean…she was alive.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva stopped, "Oh…my." She whispered as she stared at the new 'scar' readily apparent upon her. _That'll be hard to hide,_ she mused as she shakily reached up. The muscles in her arm protesting…

Fingers skimming along the area…

"Oh…dear heavens…what am I to have to live through next?" Tears reflected in her eyes, as she choked back a louder sob. As emerald eyes remained riveted upon the now pearly white streak of hair that streamed along the right side of her face.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione waited a full five seconds after Ginny left, just to ensure the door was sufficiently closed before turning to Harry, face set. "Why'd you lie about Borgin and Burkes?"

Harry crinkled his brows, "Huh?" He thought back to his conversation _with_ McGonagall and eyed his friend. "I didn't lie, Hermione. She wasn't there, the Auror division…"

"Came in after the fact." Hermione interjected, "As I had already left with Horace and Minerva stayed back with Mr. Burke and you _know _this." She quietly hissed.

"You're right I do." He shifted, "And I also know that McGonagall is trying to help us stop Harkiss, and she is pursuing him and not the other way around like Ron believes." Hermione went to interrupt again, but at Harry's hardened eyes she bit her lip to contain herself. "He's just worried, as are all the Weasley's, especially with losing Fred. Except George, I don't think he's every worried about anything." Green eyes momentarily sparkled, grinning as he relayed the one positive news he had. "Or perhaps the new woman in his life has him too preoccupied to be worried…"

"Woman in his life…?" Hermione's apparent shock caused Harry's grin to widen.

"Yeah," He said, "Apparently he started seeing someone, and despite Percy's attempts at finding out who; he's been rather closed lipped about it."

_No doubt_, Hermione thought as a slow smile began breaking across her face as she realized _who_ he must be spending time with. _Rory._ "Well…whoever it is, I'm happy for him." Sincerity ringing from her voice.

"Me too." Harry's brows crinkling at her in question, "You don't know who it is, do you?"

"No." She replied honestly, "I haven't seen him nor spoken with him in a few weeks."

"Who is it?"

"I don't…" She couldn't lie to him, nor he her. There was too much between them. They had been through too much through the years; between Hogwarts and the whole year on the run and then after… "I don't know for sure," She held her hand up to stop his pending interruption, "But I do have an idea."

"And?"

"I can't say."

"You know I'd never…"

"I know." She said, "But I promised him, Harry."

He outwardly frowned, "Why the secrecy? Is it someone famous? Past Death Eater?"

"Not famous and not a past death eater." Harry went to open his mouth again, but Hermione shook her head, "Back to Minerva…"

He sighed, "It's been taken care of."

"I had the same disagreement with Molly yesterday, Harry. So, no, it hasn't been 'taken care of'. And you never answered as to why you lied to your wife."

His eyes darted to the door, "Because she's wrong." He whispered, "You and I both know Minerva is not being sought out, but is the one doing the seeking. And we need her; good, bad or indifferent; it's the truth." A deep sadness suddenly laced his eyes, "One I wish wasn't so. Because while I do not share the Weasley's opinion regarding your growing friendship with her exposing your children to undo harm, as we are all in danger, especially you. A danger we placed you in, by asking you to give up a year of your life to assist Minerva in protecting Hogwarts. A charge you have taken to heart, and I think it scares Ron and the rest of the family. Five months ago when Minerva spoke of the dangers to Hogwarts and herself, it seemed impossible that a danger as forbidding as Voldemort had returned. And it has." Their eyes remained locked upon the others. "And we have placed you in the eye of the brewing storm."

"I fear you may be right," She gravelly said, "As Minerva is using a great deal of her resources to find and subsequently stop Harkiss."

"Just promise, that if you come across Harkiss that you won't try and take him alone."

"Harry…"

An uncharacteristic edge lined his words, "Promise me, Hermione."

"No." Defiance ringing in her voice and the air, "I can't promise that, no more than you can. Besides…" Her voice caught, emotion ringing forth. "If I come across him, it'll be with Minerva. And I highly doubt she'd leave him to me."

"Do you think she can take him, without killing herself in the process?" Both witch and wizard staring at the other, the question having been…rhetorical. As they both knew the answer in their hearts, the knowledge reflected in their eyes; _No._

Ginny opened the door to see her husband and best friend staring at the other, tears in both their eyes. "What's wrong?"

Hermione cleared her throat, swallowing the ball of emotion. "Nothing." She turned to Ginny feigning a smile that she truly didn't feel; as Harry had shared her own concern regarding Minerva's welfare…and outcome. "Just reminiscing about close calls." Harry reached out, squeezing her hand, and she squeezed back as Ginny came around the end of the bed; neither saying much. As both remained lost in their own thoughts; thoughts revolving around one woman in particular and the disturbing notion that both believed to be true.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"How bad?" Tessa's voice holding an uncharacteristic edge.

"She is doing far better than expected." Helena obliquely stated.

"And her magical stores?" Tessa challenged her aunt's vague response.

Helena stared at Minerva's daughter, unflinchingly. "Better…"

"Cut the shit, Helena; I know yesterday's incident had to have severely depleted mother's magic. How bad is it?"

"Half of what it last was." Helena carefully stated, knowing that she had not kept Tessa apprised of how much her mother's magic had already fallen. And while her statement was true; Minerva's degree of remaining magic would be perceived as far higher than what it truly was.

"Merlin…" Tessa ran a hand through her hair, "Thirty-five percent…" She turned to the wall, "That's…" She took another breath, feeling light headed. "Half…" She shook her head, "She's slipping too fast…she's…" Tears burned against the back of her eyes, "Dear God…Helena…" She grasped the mantle above the fireplace. "She's dying."

Helena drew up behind her, pulling her niece to her. "Yes." She murmured, "She is."

Tessa's elegant jaw trembled, "She…can't…die, she's…"

"Human." Helena gently stated, "And yes, she can…and is."

Tessa spun around, "You need to get her to resign, to…turn everything over to the Order and stop trying to track down Johannes. She needs to let someone else take up her crusading banner…Dammit, you know as well as I that Potter or Granger could and would happily take over her charge." She pushed herself away from the fireplace, "She'll listen to you…please."

A strained chuckle slipped from her lips, "No…she won't."

"Helena…"

"She's your mother and dying." Her steel lined voice cutting off Tessa's remark. "It is something that while I abhor the notion, I respect her decision. And _you_ had better learn to respect it too. Because at her current rate of decline, she won't be here this time next year and probably far sooner if she has any say in the matter. And since she is going to die, she would much prefer it to be her versus you or someone else she loves facing the bastard who killed her daughter. So, grieve in silence at what you will lose, but offer unwavering support in public; because despite what you may believe, your mother is just as human as you and she needs to know that she is not alone."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Now that everyone has left," Minerva leaned back into the pillows, "Will you tell me your grim prognosis?"

Helena shifted, enjoying the comfort of the mattress. "Where did you say you purchased this?"

"San Francisco. Now, how bad? And also what did you relay to my persistent daughter?"

"She believes you are at 35 percent." Helena laid on her side, propping her head up with the palm of her hand. "As I told her the truth, that your magic was cut in half."

"Half…" Minerva's gaze shifted to the ceiling, "Sixteen?"

"Close enough." Helena whispered as Minerva cooped with the startling news, remaining quiet for a long time.

"At least…I'm not a squib, yet." Her low cadence barely breaking the silence.

"Minerva, will you consider leaving Hogwarts, now?"

"Yes." She stated, surprising her friend; who was already sitting upwards, stunned by this revelation. "I'll tender my resignation after the Holidays."

"Oh, Minerva…that's…" Relief swelled within her breast. "Wonderful news."

"For the end of the term year." Minerva's statement causing the previous rush of emotion to fall, flat.

"You can't…there is no way that you'll be able to remain as the Headmistress as the year progresses. You may just have enough magic to operate the wards and sort the daily minutia, but if you lose…anymore…"

"If I lose anymore magic, I'll be a squib or very near to one and it won't matter Helena. So, you and I both had better take up religion and pray that my next escapade brings Johannes into my path or it is for naught. As Ron and Harry were not able to take Johannes, and that only leaves three people with a chance at besting him. And one of them is _your _husband; which while outstanding, I fear the cost would be as grave as my own. Rory," She shook her head, "I don't think he has the stamina and Hermione…" Her voice trailed off as she involuntarily pictured the vibrant young woman. How much she had learned in the past few months…and how much she still had to learn, "Lacks the experience. So," She cleared her throat, "My dear friend, you see that if I fail…I fear that not only Hogwarts will fall but everything I hold dear will fall too."

"He can be beat by someone, _other _than you."

"Yes," Minerva whispered, "He can." Her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "But the price is not worth my life, Helena when I am already dying. _You, _are not." Blue eyes flinched from the emotion stemming from her friend's emerald eyes. "Nor is Harold, and I would like to keep it that way."

"Minerva…please…for once, walk away."

"I am…" Minerva murmured letting her head fall back into her pillow, "Just not the way you want me too."

And Helena began to realize, exactly how often over the past thirteen years Minerva had inferred something else entirely than how she had taken it; because she hadn't known about Albus. The survival of their bond. And…it hurt, a lot. "Can you still feel him?"

"What?" Minerva shifted, head turning as a perplexed look upon her milky features.

"Albus." Helena softly broached the topic, "Yesterday, I saw your magical signature…" Realization flashed in emerald orbs, "Not the one you have typically portrayed since his death, but _yours _…and his is still there, interwoven; only flecks against the green, but there amidst the yours and Hogwarts. So, I asked, can you still feel him?"

"And I her." Came a gentle reply from the man's portrait.

Helena sat up, no longer feeling tired. "But…_you're_ dead."

"A most unfortunate circumstance." Albus acknowledged.

"Then how…" Helena's eyes darted to what appeared to be amused green ones. "I mean…he's…you're…there's no way…"

"I believe the cat has finally got her tongue." Albus chimed.

"Speechlessly so." Minerva agreed as Helena stared at…both, mouth gaping. "And yes, dear; I still feel him."

"Then, Hogwarts didn't sever your bond all those years ago?"

"No." They chorused in response.

"But, how can you…I mean…Albus, you're dead. Buried," She pointed her finger to the marble coffin, voice rising. "Right there. I attended your funeral, saw your body…there is no way…for you to still be bound to Minerva. And, how in Merlin's beard can you sit there carrying on a conversation as though…you were sitting in one of your damn chintz chairs?"

"We're both caught between worlds." He mysteriously stated.

"English please." She snapped turning to Minerva.

"He can't die, or rather his soul cannot move on and is forced to exist between this world and that…living at King's Cross, as we remain bound. And I am alive, while part of my soul exists there…"

"So all this time…" Helena gasped, "He's…you…and you never told anyone?"

"No, we didn't. Just recently, I confided in Rory; but other than that, no one knows." A sad smile spread across her face, "They can't."

"Not even the children?"

"They have grieved and moved on."

"But what about you?" Helena asked, aghast. "Your grief…"

"We never thought it would take this long." Minerva's words farther shocking Helena.

"Take this long…what, exactly?"

"My death." Came her far too calm reply.

"What?" Helena half choked, half gasped.

"Initially, we both thought that _this_ was temporary. That the drain would again rip through my body as I recovered that summer."

"But it didn't." Albus said, recalling the long nights and days spent with his wife; but so far apart.

"And slowly, we began to realize that this wasn't _that _temporary and that somehow Hogwarts was stifling the drain."

"Drain?" Helena dared to ask. "You mean…you are still being pulled to the other side?"

Minerva and Albus shared a long look, ignoring the woman sitting but a meter from her. And with great slowness, she turned back to Helena. "Yes."

"It's not Hogwarts that's killing you…" Helena murmured with a new understanding to Minerva's condition. "It's your bond." She slipped from the bed, _needing _to stand. "And has been for years, slowly taking you away a piece at a time." She breathed. "And Hogwarts…" She turned to the aged castle she had always blamed and cursed for what it had done to her friend. Oh…how so very wrong she had been. "Has been keeping you alive."

"And when you use your magic," Helena paused…realization dawning upon her. "The bond…"

"Strips it farther…" Minerva whispered, "And once it is gone…"

"It…will pull your body apart."

"I have to say," Minerva re-adjusted herself into the pillows, "That is not something I relish the notion of."

"Minerva, how can you jest about this?" She snapped as she leaned forward, hands splayed out upon the bed, "You'd spend your last few days…in terrible pain; the bond would not have your magic as a buffer and…"

"I'd die. Which is not any different now than an hour ago. As I'll be in essence a squib for the month or months before, my magic so low that I won't be able to do the simplest of tasks and then…when gone, my last few days will be rather unpleasant." Minerva sleepily smiled as blue eyes finally flashed in understanding.

_She'd rather in die helping others; than slowly having her magic being taken away and her body painfully ripped apart._

_

* * *

oxox

* * *

_

George wearily stood, "'ello?" He glanced at the clock, _11:20 _and pulled his wand out at the lack of response. His tiredness momentarily forgotten as he approached the door and with a quick deft move, yanked it open…to see…Rory leaning against the wall's edge brow raised. "Hey." George glanced down the hall and back, motioning for him to enter. "Bit late."

"Was visitin' Minerva and thought I'd see how you were holdin' up." Rory stated as he entered the young wizard's apartment, eyes taking in the luxurious fixtures.

George noticed how Rory paused and suddenly felt, self conscious at how grand his apartment was decorated in comparison to Rory's home. "Alright." George said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Both Harry and Ron are going to be fine." He then remembered the morning's headline, the Healer's statement regarding Harry's injuries, and Rory's sudden appearance in the lowlands. "And McG?"

"A bit worse for wear." Rory's matter of fact, straight forward response surprised George.

"There was nothing in the Prophet."

"Ne'er is if it's regardin' Minerva." Grey eyes turned to George, eyes raking over the young wizard. "She tends to keep to herself."

George chuckled, "I have a feeling that is quite the understatement." He walked toward the kitchen, "Can I get you something?"

"No." Rory let his eyes stray to a picture of George and what must have been his twin brother, "You're brother?" He called out.

"Yeah." George felt his breath catch, "Fred."

"Miss him?" Rory's voice was soft as he came to stand beside the refrigerator as George stood up.

"Quite a bit." George's eyes tearfully met Rory's. "As though I'm missing my other half." He stood, a bottle of water in his hand. "The better half."

Rory waited until George closed the door, his voice still soft. "I'd beg to differ."

A shaky smile cracked across his face, "You'd have liked him."

"Of that I'm sure," Rory moved out of the kitchen and back to the living room, "As I like you."

"He was the one who wanted to start a joke shop." George joined Rory, both sitting on the large red leather sofa.

"And you, what did you want?"

"Outside of a bit of laughter and spending time with my family, never really thought that far ahead."

"And now?"

He raised the bottle, taking a long swallow before turning back to Rory. "For everyone to make it through this debacle, alive."

"That shan't happen." Rory's eyes held George's, "And you know that as well as I."

George felt his chest constrict, "It's possible."

"But not likely, George. Harkiss is a formidable wizard, as is Aegis." Grey eyes softened, "And while Harry and Ron were lucky yesterday...not everyone will be."

"You're talking about McG." George whispered, "The spell she used to save Harry had an adverse effect."

"This war is unlike the last, as it is about choices."

"Choices?" George questioned.

"Aye." He breathed, "And some of those will cause people to be put in situations that are perilous at best; and that includes your family."

"And yours?"

A soul shattering sadness emerged from behind his weary face, "I fear the last of my family is already lost; as she will stop at nothing to bring peace back to the wizarding world."

* * *

Oxox

_A/N: Thought I'd drop this by…even if it is uncharacteristically done a wee bit ahead of schedule. As always, hope you enjoyed! _


	49. Chapter 47 November 30th, 2009

**Chapter 47 ~ November 30****th****, 2009 (Monday)**

It was with a shaky hand that Minerva took the morning report, already tired from simply taking a shower. "Thank you, Elgin." She murmured and involuntarily narrowed her eyes at the blurry words.

"Here's Mistress." He took a small step closer, handing the Mistress her normal glasses, "You'se be needing these too."

"Yes." She said, grudgingly taking them. "I do."

"Anything else?" He asked, blinking up at her and trying not to stare at the streak of white that defiantly stood out against her once solid black mane of hair. "A croissant perhaps?"

"No…" She slowly opened her glass frames, "I believe I'll be heading down to breakfast this morning."

"But…Mistress…" He gasped, "Blondie's said that you…"

"Are not to overexert myself." She clipped in response, "I am well aware of my limitations Elgin. And having breakfast with my colleagues will not overexert my strength and it will also help to keep up the pretense that I am healing quickly and will be back to normal within a few short days."

"Then please calls Mistress when you is wishing to go to breakfast. I wills take you."

Her eyes began scanning the document, brows crinkling. "Was anyone injured when the storage cellar collapsed?"

"No, Mistress; we'se was preparing for dinner and had already pulled the goods."

Minerva glanced up, "What time did this happen?"

"After the quidditch game Mistress, not long after Blondie's left."

Minerva sighed and wearily stood; pulling the walking cane to her as she slowly moved to the solitary window in her living room. Green eyes staring out into the still black night; the morning twilight not having begun to brighten the sky. _When I saved Harry,_ she thought, _and pulled upon Hogwarts to finish the spell._ _Dear Merlin, I'm destroying what Albus and I sought to save…_ Her fingers skimmed across the stone sill, and she stayed her thoughts on what had now become her life as she directed her eyes back to the report…dreading what else lie within.

* * *

oxox

* * *

The throbbing pain in his shoulder and down his ribs caused Rory to try and move, but the warmth along his left side prevented him. Sleepily, he turned over, grey eyes narrowing to see what was obstructing his movement as he thought back to what had happened last evening.

Flaming red hair stood out against the night as faint tendrils of mint reached his nose, and he recalled last evening. A deep tenderness swelling in his chest for the young wizard, who had listened to him as he talked about his 'sister'; and then he in turn had soothed and listened to George as he spoke of Fred. How he had pulled George to him, and held him…as he recanted how his brother had been killed;

_"...it happened so quick…" George didn't bother to hide the tears, nor hide it behind the humor that he typically blanketed himself within. "And then he was gone. As though someone just turned off the light, and I…felt empty…"_

Sometime later George had fallen asleep, arm wrapped around him and had used his shoulder as a pillow. Rory…had conjured a pillow, but…the burning in his side necessitated that he move. He was still having a devil of a time with his shoulder and ribs from a few weeks ago, it had yet to completely heal. And…sleeping like this…he went to move slightly, and a soft groan slipped from his lips causing George to jerk awake.

"Hey." Rory whispered, "I merely ne'd ta move."

Blue eyes blinked as he too recalled how he had come to lie in Rory's arms, "Sorry, I…" He swallowed, forcing his embarrassment aside at his own weakness as he waved his hand, a soft light glowing about the room. "Should never have…"

"You are wel'ome, anytime." He shifted and sat up, noticing the time and inwardly cursed. Because, while he enjoyed spending time with George, he had need to leave. "And I'm sorry that I have ta go."

George blinked, "It's not even 5."

"Aye, and I shoulda been back last night, I have some things that need ta be takin care of." He rotated his arm, "Perhaps, you'll be free this comin' weekend."

"Dinner?" George asked, feeling his heart lift at the mere prospect.

"Aye," Rory said standing, "And maybe a bit of breakfast too." He watched George's cheeks flush pink, "As we can lie down perhaps and talk until the wee hours of the morning on somethin' slightly larger…and softer."

"You act as though you are too old to fall asleep on a sofa."

A chuckle rumbled in Rory's chest, "Aye, I am too old." Grey eyes sparkled in the shadowy night, "That is why I own a bed…"

"And here I thought you had other uses for a bed." George quipped.

"Aye, I do;" His voice turning gravelly as he stepped closer to the man he had held in his arms less than five minutes ago. "As I do for the chesterfield too."

George felt his breath catch at Rory's nearness, at his…directness…, the way he was staring at him…, the way he spoke of what he wanted...

"Perhaps…I'll show ya some time in the future." He whispered along the pale skin.

"I'll see you Friday." George murmured in response, his breathing erratic.

"I'm lookin' forward to it." Grey eyes darted to the moist lips…only centimeters from his own.

"As am I." George leaned forward, briefly touching his lips…to Rory's. It was subtle…warm…tentative…and then...the lips beneath his moved, capturing his in a searing kiss as he felt a hand cup the side of his face and thread into his hair; pulling him closer as he responded…willingly.

His mouth opening…to grant entry when a deep moan filled the air and Rory tore his lips from George's; his eyes smoldering with passion. George felt himself drowning in his gaze before Rory spun around and in a whirl of blue tartan, his kilt flared and a sapphire cloak was billowing behind him as the door to his apartment opened and he was standing in the threshold.

Rory turned for a moment more, eyes feasting upon George; and then…he was gone…the door closed, leaving a stunned George Weasley staring after the elder wizard, heart pounding in his ears…blood pulsing in his veins as a need unlike any he had felt before swirled within his groin.

Several seconds passed before he finally blinked and even gave thought to moving. "I'm not going back to bed now." He muttered, feeling anything but tired.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Forgive me Mistress, but…" He cleared his throat as he took her arm, "Normally when you'se is not…fully healed you'se cast a glamour charm…"

Minerva nodded, "I do. But we are approaching a time when I shan't be able to, and I am going to have to use other means or merely go as I am."

Yellow eyes blinked back his sorrow, "Then you'se mean not to hide…you'se hair?"

A tender smile graced her lips, "No, Elgin; I do not." She reached over with her other hand, patting his. "Now, if you please."

A heartbeat later, Minerva was standing before the staff entrance and she paused, hand resting upon the handle. She was tired. Breakfast would at best be…laborious. And…any farther thoughts were cast aside, she could dwell upon those later; in the privacy of her rooms. Summoning the tattered remnants of her strength, she turned the knob and stepped forward; some of the professors casually glancing towards the opening door to see who else had arrived…but…their gazes remained…riveted upon her. One by one the professors turned…

Her eyes sliding down the staff table as the domino effect continued…navy robes with ringlets of chestnut hair…turning…and brown eyes searching for the cause of most of the staffs' attention…and Hermione couldn't breathe as her eyes landed upon Minerva.

Immediately noticing what every other member of the staff had undoubtedly noticed. The large streak of white marring her black hair. An alabaster white…that seemed to catch the light…and hold it; so unlike the rest of her ebony hair. The white was perhaps the circumference of a galleon along her temple…flushed back, and swallowed into her bun.

But…it…stood out. Like a heron's song.

_Much like the woman._

And her heart sank as she took in the rest of Minerva's demeanor. Her gait was slow, deliberate; and filled with obvious pain despite her stoic expression. She was there, no doubt, on will alone. Filius was already sliding back, as was Pomona but she merely gave a singular shake of her head and stepped forward. Palm finally coming to rest upon her seat, "Good morning." She called out, voice…sounding as though…it was a typical morning, and nothing was amiss. "It seems that my new hairstyle has caused some brows to be raised," She effortlessly pulled out her chair, "And yes, to answer your next question, I believe it to be a permanent change." Her gaze momentarily caught with Hermione's, she gave a slight smile before turning and taking her seat.

Hermione numbly brought her attention back to her plate, the thought of food have fled her mind…as her stomach twisted in nausea.

_How much magic would Minerva have had to cast to stress her body to the point that there was a physical reaction?_

"A lot." Came Marx's soft voice and Hermione blinked at the Albino man.

"…what?" She asked, wondering what he was referencing.

"It would take an insurmountable amount of magic to stress one's body to the point that there was a physical reaction. And to cast such magic, it would be a miracle to survive." He quietly stated and she realized that she must have spoken aloud.

"I'm surprised Helena has let her out of St. Mungos." Aurora whispered from the other side.

"As am I." Marx quietly agreed.

Hermione slid her chair backwards, drawing a look from both Aurora and Marx. "I need to finish grading my third year essays before the start of first period." She said, silently thanking Merlin she had already eaten something before Minerva's arrival. "If you will excuse me…" She stood and found herself gripping the back of her chair, legs…not wanting to hold her upright. But, thankfully…her muscles found their strength and…she was able to gracefully walk from the Great Hall.

Her stomach still convulsing…as she blindly made her way to her classroom...feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her system at how elated she had been to see Harry, alive. And now, all she could think of was how much it had taken for Minerva to save Harry. What had the personal cost been? She had already born so much…that she didn't know how the woman could bear anymore…

* * *

oxox

* * *

"No Filius." She tiredly stated, pushing her chair backwards and grasping her walking stick. "It will only be for the next week."

"Are you sure?" He watched as the proud woman visibly winced.

"Yes, by then; I shall be able to run most of Hogwarts."

"And the staff?"

"If you can conduct the House meeting next week, and then I'll resume."

Filius gave a solitary nod, eyes trying not to drift to the clock behind her. "I'm sure you are aware of the implosion in the dry good cellar."

"Did you find a cause…" Her right arm shaking as she put weight upon it to stand. "…for the implosion?" She finished as she stood, brow quirked at his obvious concern. "It will continue to get worse my friend, now…the implosion?" She watched as he stilled his features.

"There was no discernable cause, both the oak and stone were sound."

"That bodes ill." She muttered more to herself, than to him.

"Yes, it does." He agreed.

She gently patted his arm as she passed him, "And did you check the heart?"

"No," He turned and easily walked beside her as she made her way towards the brass staircase. "I will today and send word this evening."

"Very well." She said, "And the North Wing?"

He audibly groaned, "You will need to speak with them as soon as you are feeling up to it. They have many questions," His voice rising an octave, "Especially Edgar. I swear, Minerva, he and his wife could drive even the sanest man insane."

The rich laugh that momentarily slipped from her lips brought a smile upon his own. "I will speak with them by Wednesday."

"And the Centaurs?"

Minerva paused, hand upon the rail as she peered at her Deputy. "I'm sorry…what about them?"

"Dantlis sent word again to speak with you, and I know you have not had an opportunity since I told you on Saturday; but…"

Minerva schooled her features as she realized he must have told Helena, and the information did not get relayed. "It slipped my mind." She answered somewhat truthfully.

He chuckled ruefully, "With everything going on, I'm surprised you haven't bobbled more."

"Thank you for the reminder…" She whispered, "I will send him word." She stepped up and before she could take one more…she felt the stairs begin climbing on their own accord. She turned back to see Filius give her the briefest of nods as he slipped his wand into his robes. "Good day, Filius."

"And to you Minerva." He said moving away, eyes darting to the clock to check the time…and…

Also noting the lack of emerald within face, there was so little that the blue was now only half as small…versus the small specks they had once been…the alabaster having consumed the rest of the clock.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione closed the note, class would be over in less than ten minutes. "Dismissed." She said surprising her students and weaved her way between the students, already through the door before they had an opportunity to grab their bags; all of them wondering what had caused their professor to dismiss their class early.

Uncharacteristic didn't begin to describe it. But…it was soon forgotten as they started their evening early.

Hermione, on the other hand, made her way down the back stairwell; turning to the left upon reaching the second floor as her robes billowed behind her and she stopped in front of the gargoyle.

She flipped the note open, "Life's folly." The gargoyle ground open, her eyes taking in the rest of the note again.

_Hermione ~_

_Life's folly will grant entry. If you could please stop by my office following classes._

_Minerva_

Hermione stepped onto the stone stairs, feeling…_giddy?_ She brushed the notion aside as she was standing before the wormy chestnut door, and Minerva's private quarters. Without pause, she entered. "Minerva?" She called out at not seeing her in her primary living suite.

"Door to the right of my bedroom." Minerva called out as she melted the wax and pressed her emblem into the hot substance. The door creaked, and with a tired smile she glanced up. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes swept the small den, she remembered vague details from when she had exited out of it less than a week ago before their meeting with Aegis. Minerva was sitting at the desk, letter folded and quill just resting upon the blotter. "How are you?" She asked without preamble, eyes sweeping over Minerva. Noticing the lines of fatigue and rigidity of her back.

"As you have undoubtedly surmised," She nodded to the maroon and gold chair opposite. "I have been a wee bit better, but under Helena's expert care, I am of course, healing. And yourself?"

"I've been a bit worried regarding my friends lives this past weekend. Seems as though two of them were rather dense and tried to take on Johannes on Saturday, and were gravely injured. Helena was able to save one, while the other…another friend had to risk _her _life to save his. And while I am beyond thankful for his well-being, I cannot help but feel a massive amount of guilt for being thankful…because I can't help but wonder what it cost _you._"

Minerva held the younger woman's intense gaze as she made her voice remain level. "Nothing that was insurmountable."

Hermione shifted forward in her seat, right hand tentatively reaching forward. "Not…insurmountable." She murmured as Minerva tipped her head away and to the left. And Hermione's heart jumped into her throat at the subtle display of the prideful woman's normally concealed vanity…her fingers didn't stop and gently lifted Minerva's chin. "Don't." She tenderly whispered, "I was just…you said its permanent?" She let her fingers fall from the soft flesh.

"It is." Minerva mentally berated herself for showing a moment of weakness, she had more important matters to attend than the color of her hair. "I seemed to have stretched my magic a bit too far, and the stress…" She motioned to her hair, "Had an adverse effect."

"Were there any other…effects?"

"Other than a bone weary fatigue, a tongue lashing from Helena and under healer's orders to use limited magic for the next several weeks; I came out better than anticipated."

"What did you…think would happen?" Hermione didn't know if she wished to hear.

"As you are aware, there is a marked difference between transfiguration and transformation. One requires far less magic and energy to do, the other…far more."

Realization flashed in brown eyes, "You couldn't merely transfigure Harry back, could you?"

"No," Minerva honestly stated, "That is the other reason Helena is keeping him under her care for the week to ensure there are no complications. As, it was…" She found the subsequent words difficult to utter, because in her previous life…it hadn't been difficult at all. "Arduous at best. There was nothing to base the transfiguration upon and I had to return to his primary cell structure…"

Hermione's eyes widened, "That's impossible."

"I assure you, it is not." Minerva quietly replied, her need to talk about what happened outweighing the need to remain secret regarding her discipline. "Otherwise, Harry would not be here, today. His body was trying to accommodate two diverse transfigurations while still maintaining his human form."

"What were the transfigurations?"

"Equine and anteater."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed. "Really?" She shook her head at the image in her mind's eye. "How did Johannes manage to congeal the spells? They are as divergent as night and day."

"It's a troublesome notion, and I do not know how he sustained it."

"Is there a way to combat it? Harry inferred that he was hit with a spell that went through his protego charm and then he felt his arm transfiguring."

"Traditionally, I would say use a protego charm or merely transform the spell."

"But, you can't…"

"Stop thinking in generic black and white terms as to what can and cannot be done, it is magic. Anything is possible."

"At what cost?" Hermione breathed.

"When it is a loved one, Hermione. I guarantee that the realm of what you deem acceptable and probable increase dramatically."

"A loved one, I understand." She whispered, "But Harry…is not your family, a loved one…so why would you risk so much to save him?"

"James…" Her lilt became poignant, "Was my godson. And I made a decision one evening to help Harold save Jordan and both James and Lily were killed."

Hermione had heard Helena tell the harrowing story, but unlike before, Minerva's voice didn't break…her face remained emotionless…only her cadence changed. "And you risked…everything to save him?" Hermione asked, disbelieving.

"Would you not have?"

"Of course, but he's my best friend; Ginny's husband; my children's uncle…"

"And I held him in my arms not moments after he was born, watched him take some of his first steps…" Distant memories surfaced, as she recalled James and Lily and their warm chestnut house, always with a hickory fire…warm cider… "And remember how proud James was when he called him, 'Dad'. Then Voldemort came and everything changed. Albus and I made a decision regarding placing Harry with his dreadful relations to help protect him and every year; I would watch what transpired at the Dursleys' home, heart sick. It was one of the only arguments that Albus and I truly never came to see eye to eye." The memory alone caused a deep anger to pulse in her veins, "So, while I do not love Harry as you do, dear. I do love him and want nothing but the best for him."

"And the transformation spell?"

"Think of it as a cross between transfiguration and transformation, as I did not transform him into existence, merely stripped the effects of the spell."

"Are you telling me…that if something were to happen to you, the transfiguration…he would revert back to a hybrid…thing?" Brown eyes were as wide as saucers.

"No." An amused expression fluttered across Minerva's features, "Harry is himself again."

"But, theoretically…"

"If his base cell structure had changed and I had merely reversed the transfiguration, then yes; upon my death there would be cause of concern for Harry. However, neither of those are relevant."

"You'd just _transform _the spell…" She quietly stated to herself, "My clothes, last week…when we went to the Witchery wouldn't revert back…" The pieces began tumbling together, "You…always transform an item." Hermione gasped, "Except when teaching or unless being watching by someone who would know. So, when you say transfigure, for you it encompasses…transformation too."

There in the stillness of her den, Minerva quietly acknowledged to a non-master a sacred transfiguration truth. "Yes."

"And to save Harry, the spell had to be…"

Minerva bit back the word, complex as Hermione searched unknowingly for a far less accurate one.

"Powerful; let alone how the spell swept down the entire hall of St. Mungos, stopping Harkiss' spell from continuing its transfiguration thereby enabling Helena's staff a way to save the children."

"My only intent was to reverse and save Harry." Minerva inwardly winced at the memory, the acute pain that had ripped through her…had been as agonizing as when she had ripped a hole through her family wards; leaving a wake of apprehension behind when seeking to perform even the simplest of spells. "I knew nothing of the children's plight until late last evening when speaking with Helena."

"So, the spell…you didn't mean to cast it that powerful?"

"No." She remembered the way she had lost feeling in her fingers, "I was quite tired by the time I finished casting the cursory revealing spells; so regarding the transformation spell, I have no idea how it was as powerful as it was."

Hermione always enjoyed magical theory, had a panache for creative theories and wild ideas…and felt her stomach sink at the possible notion as to what Minerva had done to complete the spell. Her eyes innately flashing to the sudden streak of white, _physical manifestations_, she inwardly flinched. "The area surrounding Harry's room was alive with what looked to be a magical discharge, and then it seemed to vanish before your spell resonated outwards and down the hall. As though the discharge fueled the spell or rather, your entire…_magical core_…"

"I do believe you are referencing when I was attempting to reveal the spell used upon Harry; as I had created a barrier to prevent access and maintain both his and my stabilization."

"Then that was a discharge?" Hermione sought clarification.

"No, rather a magical barricade."

"And when it dissipated…"

"I cast the transformation spell as I could not maintain both."

Worried brown eyes searched green ones, "Did you de-stabilize your magical core?"

"As I said, fatigued and a slightly altered hairstyle than what I was previously accustomed; but I shall be fine."

Hermione felt relieved, a hint of a smile curling her lips. "You were lucky."

Minerva smiled, "Yes." She thought back to the moment of casting the spell, and that…she had momentarily believed it would be the last one she would ever cast. "I was."

"And I'm sure Helena has you taking an assortment of potions."

"Not as such, her primary treatment was merely to rest. Which, can be rather difficult in my position at times." Her mouth quirked, "Or so I've been told."

"Filius is having all the staff route their concerns and problems to him, and the Heads of…"

Minerva held up her hand, "I did not ask you here to speak of Hogwarts," She sighed, "Rather to visit with a friend for a short period and also ask if you could deliver something for me to the Centaurs."

Apprehension filled Hermione's breast, "Of course. What do you need…delivered?" Knowing that if Minerva was asking her to deliver something, she had to indeed, not be feeling well.

"This letter." Minerva's fingers deftly picked up the letter, and with a shaky arm extended her hand outward.

Hermione accepted the parchment, eyes flashing concern at the elder woman. "And upon which grounds?"

"In the forest." Minerva idly motioned to the dense wooded area beyond, "And you _must_ be careful. The skirmishes along the property has caused them to be wary."

"Skirmishes?" Hermione hadn't heard of any problems in the Forbidden Forest.

"Johannes has sent three envoys over the past month into the Forest searching for gildings and there has been open hostilities."

"And?"

Minerva reached for her walking stick, "Casualties have been had on both sides, however, the Centaurs grow weary of all wizarding folk." Green eyes focused upon brown, "That is why _you_ must go."

"Me?" Hermione questioned, not following her logic. "They don't know me. I've only been there…_with you._" Understanding flowing in time with her voice.

"And they associate you with me. Which in this instance, bodes well for you." Minerva stood, fingers white knuckled as she waited one minute for the pain in her hip to dissipate.

_Perhaps its coincidence,_ Hermione thought, wondering if her statement held a far deeper meaning. _Can't be anything else. She hasn't been anywhere to have heard…_her eyes trailed Minerva as she exited, _And certainly Molly wouldn't have been forward enough to send her a note…_she followed her out, inwardly cringing. _Or a howler…that's more Molly's style._ _No, she wouldn't have gone that far. Would she?_ "I can't think of a time that being associated with you would be considered poor." She honestly stated, following Minerva.

"You and both know that is not true," Minerva turned her head to Hermione, a glint in her eyes. "As there is not only the issue with Harkiss, but with the Minister as well; not counting the other more superfluous reasons."

"No matter," Hermione's face softened, "As I still and will call you my friend."

Minerva gently pushed open the door to her bedroom while maintaining eye contact, cadence thick with her brogue. "Thank you."

With a nod, she turned…but paused at the door leading out from Minerva's quarters and cast a look behind her at hearing the bed give way. _Minerva didn't even walk to the other side of the room...nor wait until I left…_she realized. Her fingers grasped the bronze handle, if she hurried, she could be back before dinner; and without thought, called for Milksy as the gargoyle slowly descended.

Frowning, Elgin appeared. "She'se cannot enter here." He said wondering at the nature behind the peculiar request.

"Is it possible for you to let Professor Flitwick know I will be in the Forest until dinner?"

"The Centaurs are along the eastern ridge," Elgin replied and was gone with a crack and Hermione wondered how much truly went on without someone knowing.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Aegis' deep laugh resonated through Malfoy Manor, before with all seriousness he met Johannes gaze. "No, I am not a mindless automaton as are most of your wizards and witches, who have barely of age to practice magic. I am one of the few persons who can hold my own against McGonagall and even best her on any given day; the better question is what do _you _have to offer me? I see no incentive or reward only risk."

Black eyes measured blue, before finally whispering. "Immortality."

"Do you think I am daft?" Aegis stood fire in his eyes, "And am willing to believe that forty-three persons will be immortal after your crusade?"

"It is true." Johannes rebuked.

"There is not enough power in all of the stones of Hogwarts…"

"But there is." Johannes casually leaned back, "And it exists in merely one stone."

"Where?"

A wry smile split the haggard looking face, "Tsst. Tsst. How do I know that I can trust, you?"

"You can't," Aegis' long hair glinting in the flickering light as he leaned forward, his hands upon the large desk. "I am an ex-death eater who has spent the better part of thirty years locked up in Azkaban; there are not many people who would consider _trusting _me."

"Find a way to get me inside of this…" Johannes pulled an old picture out, worn about the edges and creased down the front depicting a younger, healthier version of himself and a woman beside him; standing to the side of large pillared house overlooking a bluff. "House."

Aegis gazed at the picture another moment, immediately recognizing the home. It was Minerva's. She and Dumbledore had moved into it in 1953; and he had visited it once…unbeknownst to her with his sister. He remembered it was located along a stretch of property that gazed outward onto the ocean for miles, and the sound the waves made against the rocks…was a beautiful melody that rivaled Minerva's ability to play the piano. His eyes remained fastened upon the woman for a moment, easily recognizing the long waves of black hair, the high cheekbones, vibrant eyes…

_Minerva's daughter._

"Whose is it?" Aegis asked handing it back, feigning indifference.

"McGonagall's home." He answered matter of factly as he slipped the picture into his robe. "Get me into there, and I'll tell you how we become immortal."

"Gringott's would be easier." Aegis rumbled in response.

"But nowhere near as lucrative."

"And am I to presume that you know who her secret keeper is?"

Black eyes sparkled in the torchlight. "I believe I do."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione's side pulled as she grasped to the left and right, rocks sliding…heart in her throat at seeing the gorge quickly approaching with nothing to prevent her from falling…before she felt another set of fingers latch upon forearm, jolted her should as her body was jerked to a sudden stop; feet suspended in the air, as she gasped for a breath.

"Hold…on." The young Centaur grunted as he strained to keep the witch from falling over the cliff.

"Don't…worry." Hermione ignored the momentary feeling of weightlessness. "Don't plan on…" Her feet struck rock…as did the face of her shins and inwardly cringed as her left leg began throbbing. "Going anywhere."

Minutes later, she was beside him; both breathing heavily as they looked down the rock face. "Are you alright?"

"Far better than I would have been had you not got here in time." Hermione turned, shaking the near fatal experience aside for the moment. "And you." Her eyes noticed the seeping wound upon his arm. "It looks as though he struck you."

"It seems that our arrival was mutually beneficial." He stated, "It is apparent that you were not with those wizards, however, it is rare for one of your kind to be this deep in the forest without cause."

"I have need to speak with your elders to deliver a letter from the Headmistress."

Soft brown eyes met hers, "You are with the McGonagall?"

"Yes, she…"

He shook his head, "Come, we must leave these parts." He reached down and in one deft motion; helped her onto his back. "We are watched." He murmured and rearing upwards he shot forward, the thatch and thicket passing in a blur as the scratched and tore at her cloak.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

With a subtle wave of her hand, the lights in her office began to dim. "Godric, please inform me when Hermione has returned." She paused, hand on the brass banister.

"Of course, Headmistress." He noted the time, "Even if you have retired for the evening?"

"Yes." She simply stated, "And Albus," Her gaze dropped, "I will need you to wake me if she has not returned by 2 this coming morning."

"Would you prefer I get Rory and let you sleep?" He inquired, knowing full well the extent of her bone-tired fatigue.

"No, because he is not known here; only at the Manor and to the Centaurs upon that property." She began ascending, "And I do not think they are very keen on humans they do _not _know."

"And what experience do they have with her here?" Albus interjected, "She is not known…"

Frustrated and tired, Minerva retorted as she came to rest at the landing. "The Centaurs pride themselves on knowing who the professors are here at Hogwarts, in addition, she accompanied me on the 3rd and they saw her as an associate of mine."

"With their current level of stress, they will not easily see reason."

"Things have changed Albus. It is not of the Centaurs that I fear may have delayed Hermione, rather those who have taken up hunting them."

"Minerva, you do not know..." The rest of the portraits became unearthly quiet as he continued on, "The Centaurs as I did. While peaceful at heart, they do not respond well to threats adding into the fact that their gildings have been targeted."

"You are right, Albus." Minerva's voice cutting the very air, "You _did_ know them better, thirteen years ago. Things _have_ changed; partly out of necessity and sheer circumstances, but…still they are different than as they once were." She sighed, more tired now than she had been five minutes ago, as she crossed the living room.

"Elgin." Wearily, she sat down as she felt the wards shift and immediately glanced down at where he was to arrive.

"Mistress." He fought to keep his face neutral and unresponsive to how tired she looked. Unlike earlier, she had taken the glamour off her face; her fatigue easily apparent. "Would you'se like some tea?"

"A cup would be lovely, and…" She held up her hand, "I have need for you to begin another task."

"Just names it Mistress, and I shalls make it so."

"I know." Minerva quietly whispered before trudging forward with doing what needed to be done and making plans for future accommodations before they were necessary. Silently wishing they would never be used, but also knowing…that if she didn't plan for it and needed it…the world would know of her plight. "I would like you to go to all eighteen shops that I purchase my clothing from and have each one produce two of the item listed beside their name." She reached into her robes, pulling a folded piece of parchment out and handed it to him.

"Mistress…" Large yellow eyes blinked, fighting back the tears. "Am I'se to make sure there is no magical seams or pockets…"

"Yes." Minerva sadly responded, "As I will have need of those garments before too long my friend."

His ears flattened as he blearily read the information penned upon the parchment. She was effectively replacing her main wardrobe, with…non-magical attributes and spreading it across her shops as to not stand out. "I will begin to make arrangements." He quietly uttered, folding the sacred parchment back up and placing it into his vest. "And upon delivery, keep them stored at the Manor until you have need for them."

"To have my cloaks re-done will be the utmost priority…"

"Master Neals is nots so fast." Elgin said nodding, "I'se remember and will submit the order in the morning."

"Thank you." She uttered, both sharing a tender moment before he gave a subtle bow and he was gone…her tea cup, though had already arrived.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

With a wave of her wand, the Great Oak doors parted, permitting her entry. An entry, she was more than happy to take advantage of.

She was tired.

And hungry.

And sore.

And…she stopped her ruminations as the sanctity of Hogwarts finally settled in; because right now, at least she was safe. Her eyes swept up the grand staircase, and inwardly moaned at the flights of stairs she still had to traverse.

With a resolve she only moderately questioned, she began ascending to her rooms. She'd speak with Minerva in the morning, it was well past midnight and she desperately needed to eat and take a shower.

She rounded the second floor staircase…

Mind replaying the events, the hair raising stories…and how despite all of what they were going through as a people, how thankful they were to Minerva and her unwavering assistance to them. So much so, that they had a message they had wished to impart with great relevancy…at least to them…and were quite disheartened when she had not been able to make it on Saturday evening but had wished to relay the events.

_Jupiter's fall is imminent. _Hermione shook her head still trying to decipher what in the hell they had been talking about as she thankfully came to her own landing. "Good evening Godric." She said fatigue readily apparent in both her voice and posture.

"And to you." He granted entry and followed through to his inner portrait. "It seems as though your quiet evening was thwarted."

Hermione outright chuckled, "It would seem." She reached up, drawing her hand along the seam and withdrew the cloak; eyes taking in the now devastated material.

"And I also see, that you have taken up the Headmistress' panache for returning with moderately shredded robes."

"When she had asked to deliver a letter, it seemed rather innocent." She sighed, wishing beyond a doubt that she had worn one of her other cloaks.

"I'm sure the request was." Godric agreed, "However, she cannot account for the unforeseen. No one can."

"No." She said, casually throwing the remnants of her once beautiful cloak onto the back of a chair. "She cannot." Hermione murmured to herself before turning back to Godric. "Is she still awake? I have a message that I am to give…"

Solemnly, Godric shook his head. "She retired close to three hours ago."

"Very well." She cast a glance to the cloak once more, she'd have to ask Minerva where Derrick had had the cloak made. It was a shame to have been destroyed, however, the craftsmanship that went into making it; enabled her to walk away from the evening with very little injuries. "Will you please relay to her in the morning that I would like to infringe for a few minutes of her time prior to breakfast?"

"I will relay the information." He watched his cub march forward, "And Hermione…"

She paused in the doorway, "Do see the nurse or clean and treat your shins." He glanced to the front of her robes, as did she. Dark stains littered the dark blue material.

"That explains why my legs hurt like hell." She muttered more to herself than to him. "Thank you Godric," She said, voice trailing away as she continued walking into the other room. "I shall remedy them."

"I have no doubt." He replied to himself, eyes dropping back to the shredded black silken robe and how similar her actions were to those of the Headmistress. Both…were so…Gryffindor.

He waited another moment to ensure that she would not return to her outer chambers and with casual purpose; he left his frame. He needed to relay a message before the hour got much later.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Excuse me, Sir…but it is well after one and…" The door opened and the healer stopped, openly starring.

"Thank you," Helena said trying to recall who the young floor healer was. _Ahh…yes…_ "Paul. However, you needn't worry. I will make sure that Adam's health remains sound."

"Of….course…Miss…I mean Madame…Healer Harrison." The young man stammered before closing the door on his flushed face.

Helena wasting no time as she turned back to Adam, "There has to be a way." She pressed again.

"You are saying that somehow, Albus is still affecting her?" A dubious expression swept his face.

"In a manner, yes."

"Impossible, he's dead."

"True, but somehow he is." Helena said pouring over her calculations. "I've redone…" She slid the book around as he opened his glasses. "The equations taking him into affect and…"

Despite his disbelief, he scanned the journal; interest quickly piqued. "Hogwarts too?" He frowned narrowing his eyes, "What are you basing these on? A direct correlation back to Minerva…" He murmured, now completely awake as he translated her work. "As if the three were bound and…" He skimmed ahead, voice to soft to be heard as Helena waited.

Her thoughts churning…as she hoped, that she was wrong.

And waited.

_She had to be wrong,_ she thought. _Just had to be. How could she not be by adding Hogwarts and Albus into the equation…?_

Until his inked fingertips came to the end of her calculations, sigh audible. "I'm sorry." He said, tearfully as he met her eager and awaiting expression; the beautiful lines of her face falling at seeing the mourning prevalent within his. "Your calculations are…sound."

"No…" Helena whispered, unwilling to believe what lay written down on paper. "I cannot believe that after she has been through so much…" Her voice harrowingly breaking as her eyes involuntarily glanced to date.

It had not changed. It had remained resilient, stubbornly so. Like the woman herself. Waiting…as the days passed by into shadow bringing it closer and closer…until in a singular moment the world would change…

And it seemed like there was no course, no action, no person...not even Albus Dumbledore who had seemingly managed to delay death or the mighty foundations of Hogwarts would be able to alter her destiny.

On February 25th, 2010; she would die.

Her dearest, most beloved and trusted friend who she loved beyond measure; Minerva McGonagall would die. It was inevitable, and there was nothing…anyone…could do to stop it.

* * *

Oxox

_

* * *

_

A/N: We are beginning to see Minerva accept and prepare for how weak she is becoming and all that encompasses her loss of magical abilities and impending death.

As always, hope you enjoyed.


	50. Chapter 48 December 1st, 2009

**Chapter 48 ~ December 1****st****, 2009 (Tuesday)**

Minerva's gaze involuntarily rested upon her reflection, eyes staying upon the white streak…and with an audible sigh; she adjusted her robe and then wrapped her hair in the towel. _Some things have not changed…yet._ She thought as she strode into her bedroom.

"Minerva…" Albus began, "Godric said Hermione has just left her quarters and is on her way here."

Minerva inwardly calculated the time, "Thank you, dear." She said walking into her living room to see a tray of coffee and croissants waiting on the coffee table, Elgin standing off the side, hands crossed in front of him, waiting. At seeing her entry, his lips curled into a faint smile.

"Good morning, Mistress." He reached his hand forward, "You'se report."

"Thank you." She said taking both the parchment and her glasses from him. She didn't truly want to know where her glasses had been, and she vaguely thought back to when he had started handing her, her glasses with her report; it had been a recent development…but as to how recent, it was not something that she could pinpoint. Only…that it _had_ changed.

Deftly, she slipped her frames on, the words instantly snapping into focus.

_1. Gryffindor – 1:33am_

_2. Ravenclaw – 12:37am_

_a. Broken lavatory sink, girls._

_3. Hufflepuff – 2:02am – Miss James socializing with Miss Stevens._

_4. Slytherin – 2:55am – Mr. Darius Evert working on essay in transfiguration._

_5. Breakfast – scones, croissants, oatmeal, eggs, sausage – links, toast and 3 juice choices; pumpkin, orange, and grapefruit. Coffee and tea upon staff table._

_6. North Wing –_

_a. 3 broken windows, _

_b. two torn tapestries, _

_c. two new families moved in (Danon and Candice Brice, and their son; Marian and Lance Sampson – totaling twenty-two rooms occupied; 39 persons._

_d. Linen shortage_

_e. 11 elves now handling rooms – 1 elf per 2 rooms_

_7. Professors –_

_a. Flitwick – Heart accessed at 8:45pm, exited at 9:24pm_

_b. Granger – in at 1:34am, appeared haggard, cloak shredded._

_c. Sinistra – Astronomy readings, 12:58am_

_8. Grounds – _

_a. 4 felled trees_

_b. Lake beginning to freeze_

_9. Hogwarts – _

_a. Peeves – locked in lower dungeon by Marx_

_b. Refrigerator down causing the following to sour; 2 vats of pumpkin juice, 2 55 gallons of dairy, week's worth of cheese_

_c. 4 additional elves loaned to Hogwarts from the Manor; rotating workload as Binx and Tannen are out with fever._

_d. Eastern stairwell invisible – 2__nd__ floor_

She heard the gargoyle activate and she banished the morning report; as her hand went to the towel on her head and pulled it off. She could feel her hair tumbling down her back, and with a wave of her hand; she felt her magic pull and fingers tingle before it was resting upon her head; in its bun as the door to her living room opened.

She didn't wait to see Hermione step into her quarters as she called over her shoulder. "I'll be right out." As the door to her room snapped close.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione heard Minerva's voice ringing out as she stepped into her quarters, but at the sound of a closing door; she realized it would be a few minutes before Minerva would return. At seeing that her coffee cup had yet to be used, Hermione felt…dreadful for arriving so early.

_She probably just woke up, or…when Godric asked Albus…if she was awake, may have even awoken her…_

Hermione felt her stomach drop…

However, further speculation was nullified as the door to Minerva's room opened and out she stepped. As though she had been awake for hours, dignified…robes in their typical immaculate form…hair up off her neck and ensconced in a bun, and her eyes involuntarily trailed to the streak of white. It looked…so…out of place as she didn't have any grey…it had always been a mass of black…

Yes, it still looked distinguished, could even be considered more so…the same elegance…

"Good morning, Hermione." Minerva's familiar cadence interrupting her thoughts, and she found herself seeking the elder woman's sea of green. Which…seemed obscured by a smoky film across her glasses.

"And to you, Minerva." She cleared her throat, pushing away the momentary discomfort she felt. "I am sorry for coming at such an early hour," She indicated to the coffee.

"Nonsense." Minerva easily brushed the notion aside, "I have been up for some time, however," She sat at the sofa, Hermione sitting opposite. "The last few days I am merely moving a bit slower than before." She poured herself a cup of coffee, "Can I interest you in a cup?" She asked, pausing for a moment.

"Yes." Hermione watched as Minerva seamlessly conjured a second cup from nothing. "I'd surmise that Helena does not want you practicing magic or at least very limited for the next several days."

"She did mention something along those lines." Minerva set the pot down, taking her own cup and saucer, she leaned back.

"And if she were here?" Hermione questioned as she took her own cup, pouring a hint of cream into the black color.

"She'd call me a stubborn fool, now…" Minerva redirected the conversation, her fatigue from casting the simplest of spells having already caused a headache. "It seems that you were delayed last evening?"

_Delayed._ Hermione inwardly chuckled at how _understated_ Minerva's verbiage was. "Quite." She adjusted herself into the opposing sofa, her robes brushing across the tender flesh of her shins. "There…"

"Were you injured?" Minerva was already leaning forward, the haze of the glasses clearing as open concern flooded emerald eyes upon seeing Hermione wince.

"I have bruised both of my shins, nothing more." Hermione answered trying to deter the coming question.

"Have you treated them?"

Hermione was mildly shocked that she hadn't asked for the cause, but stumbled forward with an answer. "Yes. Last evening and they are far better, Minerva; albeit slightly tender."

Minerva suddenly felt torn, at accepting Hermione's statement that she had treated them or asking to see for herself. But, she quelled the foolish notion instantly; _as she would not ask another one of her colleagues to show her their injuries. Well…if it had been Filius…and also, _her brain rationalized,_ she wouldn't have asked any of her colleagues to do something in her stead, either. _She opted for a far more neutral route, "Please take a minute and see Poppy this morning, to ensure there is nothing else wrong…"

Hermione knew it was concern motivating Minerva, and she guessed a measure of guilt as her injuries had occurred while delivering a message for her; so she merely nodded. "Other than a small draught of pain potion, I do not know what she'll be able to do. However," She held up her hand to stop Minerva's interjection. "I will avail myself to her expertise this morning."

"Thank you." Minerva remarked as she again, relaxed. "That is all I ask."

Hermione took a slight sip of her coffee, relishing the warmth on her throat. "There is quite a bit of discord in the forest."

"Yes." Minerva obliquely replied. "There is. Which, is why I am guessing you were delayed?"

"There was an attack on two younger Centaurs by a wizard shortly after entering. It did not seem that the wizard was going to kill him, rather capture him…"

"And then kill him." Minerva finished, causing Hermione a sudden sharp intake of breathe.

"That's what they meant." She whispered, aghast. She shook her head and quickly elaborated. "Last evening, Dantlis mentioned they have been finding bodies throughout the forest. I presumed, it was other animals' bodies, not their own kind."

"They are being hunted as Johannes needs their young, and he can't find them."

"Because they are on part of your land?"

"The ones in England through the western part of Europe have relocated. But, there still remain several other clusters of Centaurs throughout the world that are in danger."

"And does Harkiss know where they live?"

"No. However, as his efforts are continually thwarted, he will seek other avenues of information."

"Like what? It isn't as though there are colonies like there are for the dragons, they still live in the wild; so how would he be able to find them?"

"Persons like Wilhemmenia know where several of magical creatures gather."

"He'll expand his outreach to garner knowledge as to the remaining creatures whereabouts."

"I fear that is where we are heading."

"And until then?"

"We strategize, prepare for our next move," Green eyes met Hermione's, "And train."

"While _you _rest." Hermione whispered. "You're exhausted and probably moving on sheer willpower alone. I cannot imagine what it took for you to reverse Harry's spell, but, it's alright for you to rest for a few days."

"I am." Minerva fought the wave of emotion building in her chest at the younger woman's obvious concern. "As I am having Filius handle most of the daily business for the next week."

"Good." Hermione stated, "Do you at least have some plans to relax between now and next week? Away from here?"

"Perhaps." Minerva's indirect answer didn't go unnoticed.

"That doesn't involve the Order, Harkiss, the Ministry or any other obligation?"

"I do." Minerva sincerely answered as she thought of a promise that had lapsed to young Rose, one that she was intent upon making come to fruition. "But you would not consider it rest, Hermione. The type of rest you speak of is not something that I have the luxury of partaking in during the school year." She stilled her features and voice as she continued on, "Perhaps this summer I will heed your advice and take a long vacation."

"After the way this year is going, I may join you." Hermione said, a smile lighting her eyes as she momentarily gave life to the dream of a vacation away from the daily minutia of Hogwarts, the overbearing threat of Harkiss, the slanderous articles in the Prophet…

Minerva maintained her stalwart outer appearance, barely. "Then as the summer approaches, I shall keep that in mind."

Hermione's smile became broader as she wondered where Minerva _would_ vacation. _Italy? France? The Americas? New Zealand? Or perhaps something not as ostentatious, Iceland? Spain? How far did she have to travel to lose her notoriety? Could she? Did she care? Had she visited all of those places before? Did she keep a villa in Italy or perhaps a townhouse in Holland? It was ridiculous really, to ponder…because the year had barely reached its focal point and that only pertained to Hogwarts, and had nothing to do with Harkiss._ "Please do. I have a feeling as the year progresses, it will only get harder."

"I fear that you may be right." Minerva's brogue becoming slightly thicker as she leaned forward, the motion covering the sudden moisture in her eyes; "Godric inferred you had a message." She poured herself another measure of coffee, whilst also taking the croissant. "Feel free Hermione." She nodded to the small plate holding one more croissant.

"I…" She paused, "Are you not going to breakfast?"

"Yes," Minerva took a small sip of coffee, "However, Helena asked that I eat something prior to arriving to breakfast because she knows that I like to wake rather early." Minerva bit into the croissant and could see Hermione's mind rapidly trying to deduce the cause.

"She is having you take potions," Hermione said taking the last croissant, noting that breakfast was still almost an hour away; and after missing last evening's meal she found herself quite hungry. "And to counteract a potential side effect of an ulcer from drinking too many potions on an empty stomach; she is asking you to eat something before you take them. But…I thought you said her primary…"

"While you are correct in the reason behind the food, Hermione. It is not Helena who has prescribed the potions, rather myself." She watched Hermione's eyes widen and try to chew and quickly swallow to interject. "I have been having a need to drink a pepper up potion in the morning for some time and a pain potion for my hip. And Poppy asked that I begin to eat something prior to consuming them."

"Those aren't designed for long term use." Hermione blatantly stated as she swallowed the rich taste down. "You need to rest, and…"

"I'm the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Hermione. A fact that is not going to change in the near future," Her voice became hard, "And while I may appear to have infinite reserves of energy, I too grow weary as you very well know. But, there are times when I cannot take a respite and must push on. Unfortunately, since the Hukbar, I have needed a little assistance in the morning."

Hermione bit any retort she had…back at seeing Minerva's clenched jaw and knew that her concern while warranted, in this instance, would not be welcome. "Then I hope there are no emergencies in the foreseeable future so you have an opportunity to rest, and will be able to eliminate the potions in the morning."

_Doubtful, _Minerva thought, _but perhaps I shall be able to cut back on the sheer volume that I am daily consuming. _"As do I."

Hermione poured herself some more coffee, wanting to eliminate the need to do so while talking about the Centaurs message. Because, she didn't want to miss a moment of Minerva's facial expression when she relayed the message. She was sure, there would be a reaction, and perhaps enough of one to help her decipher what in blazes Dantlis was referencing last evening. "What do you know of astrological divination?"

"Is that what their message pertains to?" Minerva sighed at Hermione's nod. "Dear Merlin…their kind is being tortured then slaughtered, there are skirmishes littering the edge of the tree line, and they deem it important to have you deliver a message about the stars and their positions. Perhaps Sybil is communing with someone after all," Minerva muttered.

Hermione choked on her coffee from Minerva's comment, "Then I should take that as a yes?" She asked wryly to Minerva.

"Yes, as they continue to impart their beliefs regarding the absurd notion." She finished with taking another bite of her croissant.

Hermione leaned incrementally forward, eyes sweeping over Minerva's visage; ready to take in whatever information would slip from her, "Who's Jupiter?" She asked without preamble. _Praying, that her initial thoughts weren't true, and that the Centaurs didn't equate Minerva as Jupiter. They couldn't…could they? But then again, who else could it be? There weren't that many persons who were as iconic as Minerva, quite the opposite really. Last night, she could only come up with four persons who could remotely be compared to Jupiter. Harry, herself, Helena and Minerva. Now, if this had been two decades ago, she would have easily answered that there was only one person who could hold that title; Albus Dumbledore. But he had been dead for…thirteen years…._

"Excuse me?" Minerva asked with complete indifference as her mind reeled, _what had they portrayed to Hermione?_

"They relayed a series of statements, most meaning little to me; though probably far more to you; except the one regarding Jupiter. They said, 'Jupiter's fall is imminent.' So, I was hoping you would be able to relay to me who Jupiter is." Involuntarily, she set her cup of coffee down and reached across the table, taking Minerva's left hand into her own. "As I have pondered that statement at length since last evening, and there are only so many persons who would have the 'gravity' that Jupiter does. And…I find myself wondering, but hoping not, if they are referencing you?"

Minerva couldn't stop the tears from coming forth or her heart pounding in her chest at the meaning behind the words, and what that would mean for her. "No." She brokenly whispered, "It is not I."

"Minerva…" Hermione watched as Minerva stood, sweeping away from the sofa…turning her back to her as one of her arms came upward, undoubtedly to her face; hidden though behind her body. "Who are they referring to if not you?" She asked a trace of desperation in her voice, "Harry? Me? Helena?"

"No." The word laced with raw emotion, creating a far deeper worry to begin building within Hermione.

"Then who?" She asked again, eyes riveted to the stately woman's rigid back.

"What were the other messages?" Minerva asked, forcing herself to turn around, re-schooling her features, despite the knowledge that there were open tear streaks slipping down her face.

Innately, Hermione responded to the voice that had asked the question. It was Professor McGonagall's voice, the one that had always demanded a response, the one that every person in Britain responded to if they had been through seven years of her classes… "Mars is beginning to influence Titan. And then something along the lines of coloring it red." She fumbled out, eyes taking in the harrowing features of Minerva McGonagall. One that she had never seen, and it cut her to her soul. The way her eyes were filled with heart wrenching pain, the visible tenseness of her muscles, the tear streaks falling from her well defined jaw as her face remained etched from stone.

"Is that all?" Minerva gasped in question.

"Venus will exert a calm upon Mar's influence to Titan before Jupiter passes by the spring equinox. And Venus' light will continue to fade." Hermione finished, feeling like she had just relayed a riddle with no reference points. "I presume Mar's is Harkiss but the rest, I cannot begin to fathom. However, from your reaction you know who else they are referring to."

"I do know who Jupiter is, but…" Minerva's mind churned with the possibilities as to who Titan could be and what they were referring to as to turning red. "As for Jupiter's parallel, it is of little meaning," She said more to herself than to Hermione.

"Your reaction says otherwise," Hermione said, standing too.

Minerva didn't feel like fencing, her mind was too scattered and the rest of the information well beyond Hermione's scope. "That's because they were referencing, Albus." Minerva replied easily covering her emotional outburst, "And despite the duration of our separation, it remains difficult at times."

Hermione frowned, "Well, why would they say its fall is imminent when he died thirteen years ago?"

Minerva's face and open disdain for divination mirrored Hermione's. "Hence, why I put little stock in such drivel."

Hermione felt a weight begin releasing from her chest, "You are sure that the Centaurs are referring to Albus and not you?"

"Yes." Minerva stated without breaking away from Hermione's gaze, "They have called him Jupiter for decades."

"Even after his passing?"

"Quite," Minerva elaborated, "While he died, his influence has remained upon the wizarding world for years, and I am sure that is what they are referencing."

"And what do they refer to you as?" Hermione asked, drawing a momentarily startled expression from Minerva.

Green eyes remained unmoving, and Hermione believed for a minute that she would not answer. That she would evade like she had so many time before. But, she was wrong and felt surprise course through her system as Minerva responded with a singular word that effectively ended the conversation. "Venus." She said only holding her gaze a moment more before turning away and gliding to the solitary window in the room where she remained motionless.

The morning twilight beginning to lighten the sky as the faint moon's rays splayed along the window, highlighting her ghostly image. It was apparent from her lack of engagement, that she needed some time to herself. And with a mix of remorse and elation, Hermione quietly departed.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"You look a bit tired today." Marx remarked as he cut into his sausage.

"Not as tired as you'll be by this afternoon," At this Marx frowned, "Locking up Peeves…he was already regaling me before I entered the Great Hall as to how he was going to wreak havoc upon your rooms."

Blue eyes glinted in the morning light, "Ahh, yes. I do so love an ornery poltergeist."

"Plans already?"

"Professor Granger…" His smile lighting his eyes, "I believe we may have reached an understanding."

A flurry of owls swept into the Hall, stopping any remark on the tip of her tongue as she gazed upwards, awaiting the pile of correspondence she'd undoubtedly receive. It had become the running joke amongst the staff at the volume of letters she received daily proclaiming their undying love, wishing for a _mere_ opportunity to bring her life to new highs. Only the Headmistress' correspondence remained greater, and that was due to her position not courtiers. And, the Headmistresses mail was delivered discreetly to her office, not in the Great Hall.

An elder eagle owl with a large bundle swept towards them, and Hermione frowned, noting that the bundle appeared to be larger than usual. _Great, just what I need today. An extra twenty plus letters to respond to._ However, surprisingly, it veered at the last moment and landed in front of Minerva, drawing a flurry of curious looks. It was beyond rare for her to receive letters or mail at the Great Hall during meals. Throughout the day, yes; in her office, absolutely; at breakfast, not really.

Hermione watched as Minerva offered the great bird an entire sausage link before nimble fingers untied the parcel. Once free it cocked it's a head for a moment, cooed and with great care spread its wings and took off. Minerva already unwrapping the items, and Hermione could see sheaves of bound text, an old leather journal with a sealed letter atop.

She expected her to open the note, but Minerva stared at the small stack a moment before sliding her chair back. "If you will all excuse me." She said, a wave of openly curious expressions sweeping across the table as she stood, gracefully picking up the delivered text and in long strides exited the room.

"An auspicious sign."

Hermione's brow rose in question, "That I for once didn't get a mass of letters?"

His gaze dropped to the small neatly tied stack of perhaps, ten letters. "No, that the Headmistress, did."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"What do you mean he has already left?" Minerva snapped to the healer on the third floor. "He wasn't to be discharged until today."

The young woman's anxiety was obvious as she rapidly flipped through her notes, "He was…" She shakily spun the clipboard to the terrifying woman, "Discharged by Healer Harrison at just after 7 this morning." She pointed to the signature, one that Minerva knew far too well.

She felt like hexing something. Perhaps…redecorating the entire floor as she glowered at the innocent parchment with damning signature. Both remaining silent as the mauve robed woman starred wide-eyed at the Headmistress, not wanting to draw any further ire upon herself; but felt the sudden necessity to speak.

"I believe Madame Harrison will be in…"

"A box." Minerva retorted, causing the woman's eyes to bulge out farther if at all possible before turning on her heel and departing at a rapid clip. Her mind not on the impending meeting with Rory that at best would be dismal. Rather, the Arthimancer she _needed_ or at the very least, _wanted_ to see and speak with.

She had quickly scanned his notes and comparative texts to what her father had written 70 years ago…

_And, there had been a marked difference between the two. _

_ One said she lived._

_ The other…_

_ Well, the other was what she figured was closer to the truth, but…after everything…it didn't mean that she couldn't hope, at least on some level, for a reprieve. Even if only for her to see Audrey and Percival's child being born and perhaps watch Cal learn to rid a broom. Nothing pretentious, a Comet…_

_ Then there was Kat. She took after her father; and loved nature with a passion. She had hoped to take her to Peru and have an opportunity to help rebuild a Rainforest canopy; however, the project was not due to start for another year and a half. _

_ Watching Samantha win the House Cup. While they had a chance to win this year; their odds greatly increased the following one…_

_And Rose_…her hand stopped mid throw, floo powder drifting to the floor, as she pondered the random thought. _ Rose? _The angelic face of the young lass gazing up at her, so full of hope... _What would I have done with Rose if I were here in a year?_ She thought, snapping the remaining powder in the grate as she heard a faint call come from behind. Idly, she realized that whoever was concerned about the lack of floo powder and partially green and yellow flames. _Obviously, they've never been through Amsterdam_, Minerva thought as she stepped into the flames, mind returning to the far more interesting…and equally troublesome thought.

_ Because, since when did Rose begin to matter...'that' much? _And with Rose…came the ornery face of her brother, _Hugo._ _I'd have taught her a bit about meditation, she's too…scattered. Probably from her father. And Hugo…_the inked puppy prancing around her office instantly came to mind as he tried running after it, in between laughing fits. _A hint regarding the notion of transformation. She had a distinct feeling that the lad would have quite a gift…_

"Rory is waiting, my dear." Albus stated as she stepped into her office, the soot vanishing from her robes.

Without effort, she released the block on the floo and took off her hat. Resting it on the corner of the desk as she closed Adam's work notes and flipped over his letter.

_It would not due for Rory to see that,_ she thought…dreading her pending conversation. Knowing that while Adam's news had been difficult to deal with, her conversation with Rory would be nothing short of onerous.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione watched the last student exit her room, and with a flurry of spells; the goblets returned to mice and were once again housed in the cages that had been delivered to her this morning by Hagrid. She fastened the lever to keep them in, and with two more flicks of her wrist and hand; the chairs realigned and the chalkboard became clean. Glancing over at her desk, she ignored letters she had received this morning and the rolls of parchment waiting to be graded. Instead, she swept from her room, midnight blue robes trailing behind her.

Her movements deliberate and concise as she headed towards the Headmistress suite; thoughts upon the troubled woman prior to breakfast and then the way she had exited during the meal. Hermione had tried to stop by prior to the start of her classes this morning, however, Pomona had needed to speak with her regarding a situation with Mr. Brooks. She had found him last night in Greenhouse 2; he had been working with some of the older mandrakes, but it had been after 10 and well after curfew. She had only given him a warning, as he was one of her favorite and most gifted herbologist students at Hogwarts this year…but, she had wanted to inform her so as to help watch out for the young boy.

She stopped in front of the gargoyle, idly noticing that it seemed to be glowering more so than normal as she gave it the password. It paused for a moment before swirling open, haunting voice rumbling across her ears.

_"Enter with care."_

The words caused her to pause and glance to the now immobile and unresponsive stone face. Shaking her head at the very odd phrase, she stepped into the staircase and with its usual efficiency ground upwards and stopped at Minerva's faded green office door. Hermione stepped forward, mentally already formulating the tacit reason she would relay to Minerva behind her visit hoping to obscure the truth; that she was worried. However, the vociferous string of words that carried through the door as if it were not even there, stopped her cold.

"…was my brother!"

"Aye, he was. But ya need somethin' that your ex-lover; his murder, can provide; so ya forgive him! Because ya bloody think ya need him!"

And despite Hermione's desire to enter or even move; it mattered little as the door magically creaked open, and Hermione stood staring at outward, the two occupants flushed faces turning to her; an aura of magic sparkling around both their chests, arms, and hands.

Rory cast her a scathing look before turning back to Minerva.

"I'm sorry," Hermione stepped back, deeper into the gargoyle wishing the blasted door _hadn't _opened as her hand numbly sought for the blasted handle. "I'll come back later."

Minerva held her brown gaze for a moment, anger flashing red in her eyes and Hermione realized at that very moment; she had never _truly_ seen Minerva angry before and she hoped never to see it again. Of course, she had witnessed the debacle with her and Helena; but it wasn't incised anger… "Is there an emergency?" The layer of ice upon the lake was warmer than the frost lacing her lilt.

"No." Hermione responded on instinct alone, thankful that her fingers had finally found the bronze knob.

"Dunna bother Hermione," He pulled his hand back, floo powder arcing upwards out of the container before speeding downwards and into the flames. "There is nah mor' ta say between us."

"You need to hear the whole story…"

"And I dunno care…" He cut her off, striding forward and Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away, even though she should have…and needed to; but the very real fact remained, she was rooted to the spot and held utterly captive to the unfolding scene. She watched as he was within two meters of the fireplace when his body hit an invisible wall.

"I do." She clipped as he spun around; and a pulse of yellow sprung towards her.

Hermione's hand was already delving into her robes, wrapping around her wand as she went to help Minerva; knowing that the elder woman was still incredibly fatigued and in no condition to duel with Rory. But before she could cast a spell, Rory was already moving through the wall, body vanishing into the flames; Minerva seemingly gone a moment later as the flames burst a second time, but she hadn't seen Minerva move…cast a spell to dodge the other spell…she was merely, gone. The pulse Rory had cast shattered the lamp into a thousand shards as Hermione stared into the now vacant room.

"She does have style." Phinneas said appraisingly.

Clamping her mouth shut, Hermione took a step into Minerva's office; eyes zeroing in on Dumbledore's portrait. "She was telling him about Aegis?"

"For the first three minutes."

Hermione's shoulders involuntarily dropped, "Ahh…shit…" Her thought process was waylaid as she saw his portrait wince. "Are you alright?"

Blue eyes met hers, and then with a faint smile he lifted his hand upwards. A tiny paper in his fingers, "Nothing to fear, just a lemon drop on the cushion." He stood, eyes casting about the chair, "Oh for a hint of magic." Eyes twinkling at seeing the scattered remnants of lemon drops about his chair. "Who knows, perhaps later."

And then he was gone, frame empty; save for his chair and the small candies. Hermione turned to Severus, "Did she at least have an opportunity to explain her rationale?"

"At that juncture, the words being exchanged were quite heated." He drawled, "Even for Minerva."

The worry in brown eyes deepened, "So not well is a rather mild description."

"Dear," Hermione lifted her eyes to Dilys, "In this instance, not well is equivalent to a warm, sunny day in Scotland."

"Do you know if they'll be able to reconcile?" She asked, hoping for an answer.

Thirty seconds passed before Godric's voice answered, "We know very little of their relationship as he is hardly ever here; and Minerva is intensely private. While I have known her for a long time, I merely know they equate the other as a sibling; regarding their ability to reconcile, I would image. However, only Albus can answer that."

Hermione's eyes dropped back to Albus, and she audibly sighed. "How convenient."

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Severus quipped before settling back into his chair, feigning his usual indifference.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Filius inwardly cringed when he felt the subtle re-alignment of wards, _Minerva had left again. _He turned his back on the door to his entering student, knowing that he needed a moment to compose himself. As _they_ would no doubt detect the shift in his countenance, no matter how brief, it would be there.

Golden eyes peered onto the mushy brown grass that was already partially covered in snow. _Dear God, I hope Helena had to move her appointment. As she surely didn't leave on Order business… _

He tampered his curiosity with the decades of standing friendship between he and Minerva; and the knowledge that if she had left, knowing the circumstances, mainly her waning health, at this juncture then she would have departed with a sound and good reason. At least…that's what he kept telling himself…

…even after the bell sounded;

…even when he turned around to gaze at his class of seventh year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors;

…even when his eyes crinkled as he feigned a smile, bidding everyone good morning;

…because while he _wanted _to believe that, a small part of him knew that a day was fast approaching that she'll leave for a _good _reason, and not return.

_And...Merlin forbid it was today._

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Bonnie watched as the Master waged war against her Mistress, and her soul felt as though it was being splayed open as each moment passed; each heartfelt remark; each bolt of magic…was shot between them. The colors sparkled against the large flakes descending from the heavens, mirroring their array of emotions that was spewing forth.

And the minutes drug on…

Bonnie's eyes darting back and forth between them…and, unlike the countless years and fights she had witnessed; she saw a flicker of her Mistress' fatigue pass across her face…and her worry increased, especially as Master Rory seemed even more infuriated than before. His spells were coming faster, stronger…bolder…

Whereas, Minerva became less offensive, more defensive…magic meeting his, but…it was the sudden effort at casting…

And as Rory roared in pain; a powerful spell rumbling across the grounds Bonnie thrust forward…no longer able to endure what should not be happening. Her Mistress was _not_ well…and Master Rory _should _know better, no matter what the cause of their strife.

Her hand grasping around her Mistress' arm, feeling both the powerful pulse of magic burrowing towards them; and also from the witch whose body she was touching. Then…the grounds disappeared in flash and she was standing inside the Manor's tepid rooms; her Mistress beside her as the fire in the den burst to life at their arrival.

"Would you like tea?" Bonnie inquired already moving away from her Mistress, whilst brushing several white flakes from her clothes.

Minerva slowly lowered her wand, breaths still coming out semi-labored as she turned to her loyalist friend whom she had known her entire life. "Please, and…" She fought down her anger and objections, knowing that Bonnie had removed her for her own good. And…despite what she wished…she did not and truly could not continue to duel against Rory. "Thank you for your…timely assistance." She stated as she slipped her wand into her robes and tiredly reached up and took her glasses off.

"I will not be asking Master Rory in this evening for tea…" She began to walk towards the door, "Or dinner." Yellow eyes lifted upwards, "I am not happy with his…actions or commentary."

"Would you mind bringing a quilt as well?" She deftly began unfastening the top buttons of her outer robe, shedding the drenched layer.

"Of course." Bonnie vanished and returned before Minerva could say another word; and was handing the thick blanket to her. "I'll bring another afghan once you're settled."

"Thank you," Minerva said between chattering teeth as she sat down next to the roaring fire and began to unfold the blanket while talking, "And please remember, he loved Derrick, very much."

"I am acutely aware." Bonnie said, "But, you did too."

"And what I spoke with him about…is not something easy to digest."

"Your words were spoken in truth, he should…"

Minerva leaned into the cushions, eyes already partly closed and still she interrupted. "He's hurt Bonnie." She whispered.

"So are you." The matron elf replied.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Do you know if the Headmistress will be joining us tonight?" Marx asked Pomona as he pulled out a chair.

"I do not believe so," She answered, "She has been gone to meetings for the whole of the day."

_Meetings…_Hermione mused as she quirked a brow, listening. Silently wondering if Pomona knew something she did not. Because, Minerva had left for a very good reason, and…it was not; meetings.

"Does that infernal woman not know how to slow down?"

Hermione couldn't help the chuckle from slipping out, causing both Pomona and Marx to glance towards her as she wryly shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Too true, Hermione." Pomona stated, wishing that were not the case.

The two women shared a quiet acknowledgement to the truth buried beneath both of their statements.

"Right or not, the fact remains that _she_ is oft times too reckless; and there will come a time when her sharp intellect, stout loyalty and cunning skill will fall before her blinding Gryffindor bravado."

"Do not take offense; but I hope you are wrong in your assessment." Pomona countered.

"As do I, and no offense taken." His gaze shifted to Hermione, "And you, what do you believe?"

"That…" Despite herself, she could feel the tears building behind her eyes. "As much as hope you _are _wrong, there is a small part…that fears you are right."

The food appeared as Filius entered the Great Hall, effectively ending a topic that Hermione found…disturbing. Or rather, not the topic, but the emotions derived from the topic.

And, as she poured herself a glass of water, her mind quickly categorized the emotion and reason as to the depth…

After all, how could she have been so dense? Minerva wasn't just a colleague, rather a friend. A very dear friend, whom she cared for just as intensely as if they had been talking about Harry or even Ron…

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Bonnie stoked the fire, again; placing another three stout cherry logs onto the blaze. She cast a glance to Minerva, noting that while her teeth were no longer chattering; there was still a marked difference before she'd be well. If, she was ever that well again.

"Elgin sent a plate of food from Hogwarts if you are feeling up it." Bonnie stated, trying for the umpteenth time not to stare at the long streak of white in her hair. Elgin had informed her Sunday morning; and in between visitors she had gone to the castle herself not truly believing him. Not that she had any reason to doubt her trusted friend, rather…she had harbored the hope that he was somehow wrong. Drastically wrong. But…he had not been. Quite the opposite. Her Mistress' long ebony locks were laying spread out along the pillow, and the streak of white while in sharp contrast with her black mane seemed to be waiting for her milky complexion to return, a perfect fit…

Minerva tiredly lifted her gaze from the book entwined in her fingers, "While I wish to say no, I'll say yes to appease both you and Helena."

Bonnie knew better than to remark on her statement, knowing from her years of experience; that when the Mistress was this acquiescent it meant that she was not doing well; not doing well at all.

She had expected to be admonished for her interference with Rory…and while it hadn't happened immediately; her Mistress too concerned about shedding her cold wet outer layers of robes and warming herself, she had thought that upon warming herself, she'd receive at best a stern lecture. However, the afternoon had passed…and it never came to both a welcome relief and…surprise, which quickly turned to worry as evening approached. They had spoken little throughout the day, her Mistress having dozed several times…before finally giving up the pretense of reading and lay down. She slept for just over two hours, having woken barely an hour ago; face still piqued and drawn but nowhere near as ashen as earlier.

"Did you wish tea with your meal? Or water…"

"Tea…" Minerva cleared her throat, "I'm still a bit cold." She said, a trace of frailty lining her words.

"Then perhaps some vegetable stew and a few warm biscuits versus the roast…"

"Whatever Elgin sent will be fine." She responded as her eyes dropped back to the text.

Bonnie snapped her fingers and was within the kitchens; a handful of elves glancing upwards to see who had entered their domain. Upon seeing it was her, they went back to their preparations; a holiday party held in just over three weeks time at the Manor. They had begun instilling life back into the aged home; she noticed they were making fresh linen water…sprigs of lavender and stalks of vanilla were being infused into the bottles.

She knew they would be ready for the party; it had been all the elves could talk about for the past two weeks after she had informed them that the Mistress would be hosting a gala event at the Manor. Despite the arduous work ahead to prepare…everyone was…giddy at the prospect, especially the younger elves having heard for countless years on how the family used to throw extravagant parties that would be talked about for the whole of the year. The elder elves had assisted her in strategizing how to ready the Manor, the grounds and the food. Bonnie finalized two menus last evening and perhaps tonight, or probably later in the week, she'd discuss them with Minerva. She had been given a few parliamentary details; but…she wanted to make sure.

Absently, Bonnie fired up the stove, a seasoned cast iron pot resting atop the flames. She summoned a quart of pureed tomatoes, dumping that into the pot before she began dicing vegetables at an experienced and extremely rapid pace…

She had already ordered the wine and had sent Tom a note requesting three dozen cases of Minerva's private label to be sent over. Both would be arriving on Friday which meant the kitchens _had_ to be ready and in order to begin receiving the shipments…via portkey and not in the traditional handful of boxes at a time, rather the _entire_ shipment at once. A rather awkward way to receive items, but…they could not risk the property, even for just a few days of convenience.

She needed to speak with Minerva regarding the final number of guests and also the invitations…as they'd need to be sent out by the end of the week.

And also, she emptied the carrots, peas, celery, scant amount of onion, corn and beans into the thick liquid; she wanted to confirm with her regarding the smaller, more intimate affair evening with the family and when she desired to have that. And also, at what home. Probably the Ridge…but; she had to be sure. Because, with sending more elves to assist Elgin; her own resources were becoming, thin. If Minerva desired to have a party at the Ridge immediately following the one at the Manor, they would be extremely hard pressed and it was doubtful they would be able to accomplish it. She would have to ask Minerva to have the dinner either a week before or after the event at the Manor; _unless…Minerva wanted it at the Manor._

The thought stopped all of Bonnie's movements and magic. The container of pepper sailing through the air crashed into the floor, the spice spilling everywhere…as her conversations with her Mistress coalesced…her stomach lurching…

_ "No, I think not, Bonnie." She said, "I think it is time we dusted the Manor off a bit and have it there."_

_ Bonnie was shocked, "I…" She rocked backwards, "You are quite sure?"_

_ "Yes." Minerva leaned back in her chair, turning to study her small friend._

_ "The standard invite…"_

_ "No," Minerva interrupted, "I believe I'll be sending out quite a few additional ones." She said, somewhat quietly as her gaze drifted away, along with her voice._

_ "Shall fifty seats be ample?"_

_ Minerva blinked, "I'm sorry…" She shook her head as she thought back to what Bonnie had just stated, "No, no; my dear. You misunderstand, I am looking to make it rather a wee bit larger."_

_ Bonnie quirked her brow, "A wee bit, Minerva?"_

_ "Hmmm…" Minerva slipped her glasses back on, "I'll try and keep the guest list to under 500." She murmured, "And then a smaller party for the family to follow…"_

_~x~_

_ "I like the thought, but…" Minerva handed the preliminary menus back to Bonnie; "I'd rather you have a bit of fun and please stop fretting over the finances regarding the meal."_

_ "A per plate cost…"_

_ "It is only one night Bonnie," Her green eyes sparkled, "You are welcome to indulge. I insist, and will not be approving the final menu until…you do. And speaking of, ask Tom to send over several cases of my private label for the event."_

_ "And you still wish to ask Pierre to book the live quartet?"  
_

_ "Of course, and for the family…I may have an idea of something slightly different I'd like you to check into for me."_

_~x~_

_ "No, Rory will need to charm part of the grounds to place the external tents."_

_ "He said he would begin casting the necessary spells and enchantments the week before." Bonnie fought back a yawn, the last week had been long. And…they still had several weeks to go… "Minerva, are you sure you wish to go ahead with making the arrangements for the upcoming party; especially with Mr. Harkiss still as a threat?"_

_ "Quite," Minerva immediately replied, "As I highly doubt that another opportunity will present itself; and the Holidays do make such a wonderful venue to celebrate."_

_~x~_

And she turned, snapping her fingers; knees sinking into the snow as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Her hands bracing her suddenly shaking body as tears dripped freely off her lashes, melting the snow. _Her Mistress…was dying…_

She took in a ragged breathe, _Truly dying…and would not be here for another holiday… _

_She was saying…good-bye…in her own way…before; she was gone._

Bonnie remained outside for several minutes, taking in deep cold breaths of air to help calm her stomach and…nerves until finally, she was able to stand again; albeit somewhat shaky. She blinked, and was within her rooms; staring at her tear streaked face, unkempt hair, splotched shirt, wet skirt…

It would not due for Minerva to see her…as she was. Splashing some water on her face, she paused; beginning to realize that she would out live…Minerva. And her heart, just hurt.

"Teng." Bonnie called one of the young elves, well…in comparison; most were quite a few years younger.

The wiry elf instantly appeared, "Can I help?"

"Would you please finish the soup and biscuits, take it to the Mistress, along with some chamomile tea?"

"Immediately." His enthusiasm ringing long after his departure as Bonnie sat heavily upon her bed.

She had watched Katherine give birth to the small child, whose sparse hair was already as black as her father's. Watched as the curious girl explored the world around the Manor, and all its wonders…even delving into places that no child should go. But…her curiosity outweighed her caution, and more than once…she had saved the little girl. Each time…green eyes would blink, and she'd promise not to go _that_ far again…

Until next time…and she would go….farther; her own magic coming to her aid…and with Bonnie's assistance, she'd always make it home. And far more times than naught, unscathed.

She watched as her younger brother joined her escapades…

Watched as they began practicing magic in the north fields well beyond the scope of her parents' knowledge…

Watched as she came into a witch of her own…

Celebrating life, family, love…

Before, the family was ripped asunder…and the grounds lain bare with Callum's blood. The first of many lives to be lost…

And still…she watched over the young girl…

The war came…and went…leaving so few…including having replaced the young girl with a hardened, grown woman in a young lady's body. A woman who had seen too much for one so young…

The years drifting by…

The trials…

The love, the loss…

Another war…

And still; she watched over the woman…hearkened by the love she and Albus had for the other; their children; their grandchild…

More family's death…

And more…

And somehow, she survived. Bonnie marveled at her inner strength…but it wouldn't be until much later that she would see the depths of that strength; the inner titanium well that seemed to make up her very core.

She had never thought she would live past her own charge's life. She was thirty years her senior…had been chosen by Minerva's own mother to watch over her daughter. Asked to keep her safe and she had pledged to do so; with her own life.

And had…for eighty-seven years.

But…

Large tears blurred her vision…

There would not be an eighty-eight. And there was nothing, she could do to alter that.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: As always, hope you enjoyed! And I shall be seeing you, soon._


	51. Chapter 49a December 3rd, 2009

_A/N: Due to the size and content, the chapter has been broken into 2 parts. _

**Chapter 49 ~ December 3****rd****, 2009 (Thursday) Part A  
**

With gentle strokes, Hermione rubbed the ointment into the tender flesh and bone along her left shin; her right already done. It had been over two days, and if Poppy's diagnosis was accurate; a deep bone bruise, which undoubtedly it was; it wouldn't be completely healed until tomorrow evening…as long as she didn't miss treat her leg. It had taken quite a bit of cajoling to convince Poppy not to report any findings to Minerva; and a promise not to miss treatments. It's not that she didn't want to hide the fact from Minerva; but…the last thing she wanted to do was worry her right now. And so, Hermione had left the rather fantastical details of her _delay_ rather vague when speaking to Minerva, even Poppy. Though, she was sure Poppy saw through her ruse of tripping, falling and striking both legs on the flag stone steps. Minerva…hadn't asked…which while odd was strangely reassuring; as they had spoken about the details but not how she had accomplished it. Especially with her trust that she had been given; a mission without assistance, and to return and tell her that…she had almost died would not evoke much faith. _At least, it wouldn't to me…if I was her; _Hermione admitted.

However, Monday had come and gone…and not only did she have to maintain a pretense during classes but also…her training. Both Tuesday and Wednesday evening, she and Filius had trained lightly…working more on form, thankfully. She hoped that is all they would be working on this evening too. She didn't think she'd be able to evade many spells, and while knowledgeable in many forms of magic; Filius' far surpassed her own…and to duel him without being able to move; meant that the night would be _long_ indeed.

Of course, she _always_ learned a lot working with Filius; but…she'd rather work with Minerva. Not that she had seen her since she had miraculously flooed from her office two mornings ago. No one had, as Minerva had not returned to Hogwarts.

She had inquired of Filius both evenings, and he skirted the issue with a deftness she typically associated with Minerva. It only took two days, conversations with Filius, Milksy; and this morning's tutorial with Bonnie to ascertain her whereabouts. Minerva had been staying at her home, recuperating; which she believed on several levels, save for the most important – Minerva's own commentary. She had no doubt as to the validity of need; nor of the importance, merely that _that_ was the true reason.

Minerva had stated that there were times that she could not take a respite, and as the Headmistress had to push on…and from how she had _pushed_ to return so soon after the incident with Harry; it didn't stand to reason that now all of a sudden she would go against her own tendency. Which…caused a burning curiosity twisted around the name; Rory Wallace, especially since she had witnessed a hint of their 'heated exchange'.

Wincing as she stood, Hermione wondered why Minerva would feel the need to chase after him when she shouldn't have been using her magic as it was. "Have a good morning Godric."

"And to you," He called out, noting the limp had almost vanished from her gait.

Hermione began descending the stairs, idly wondering if Minerva would be joining them for breakfast.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Molly felt her jaw momentarily slacken, "What a pleasant surprise, Minerva." She said moving aside to grant the Headmistress entry. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"As lovely as that sounds, I'm afraid I cannot stay long." She replied having already unfastened her outer cloak, and reaching out to hang it behind their door.

"Ohhh," Molly's face partially falling, "Is everything alright?"

"Quite," Minerva easily stated, allaying the Weasley Matriach's already growing fear. "I merely have a previous engagement, however, I was hoping…" She heard Molly's gasp as she took off her hat, obviously her hair had not gone unnoticed. "To speak with Hermione's children a moment."

"Dear Merlin, Minerva…" Molly whispered not having heard the rest of her statement, eyes riveted upon the pearly white streak darting through her once solid black mane. "Is that from this past weekend at St. Mungos?"

"It was a side effect from the spell I cast," She gently patted Molly's upper arm, "It tis nothing to fret over dear."

"Dear Heavens Minerva…if you had used much more magic, I doubt you'd be here. So, don't tell me it is nothing to fret over."

Slowly, Minerva quirked her brow, "I'd prefer to look at it as an early graying."

Despite herself, Molly felt a smile pull upon her lips. "You are not _that _old."

"Ahh, but I am." She turned, "Now, I was hoping to see young Rose and Hugo for a moment as I had promised them I'd see them this past weekend but I was rather preoccupied."

Molly felt her feet remain suddenly rooted to the floor. As she couldn't very well deny the elder, revered witch access to her grandchildren, especially as they had their mother's blessing. And…what…with all that she had done for Harry last weekend.

"Are you alright?" Minerva inquired as Molly's face became suddenly pale.

"Yes," She pointed to the stairs, "They are upstairs, I need to go pull a pie out…I do believe…" She began walking quickly towards the oven, "I may have burnt it."

Minerva didn't wait, not having the time as it was; but…_wanting_ to make the time. With little effort, she quickly ascended the stairs following the children's laughter as her guidepost.

She paused at the door, committing their faces to memory. Rose was leaning over a piece of parchment, hair falling about her face, her features poised in a picture of concentration. Hugo was bounding about the room, red hair flying behind him as he tossed up and threw a small phoenix forward and catching it just over half the time as he called out, "Bird. Now a puppy." He dropped it, laughing as he threw it again, "Bird."

"Stop already, Hugo." Rose snapped, "We aren't with Aunt Minerva, so it won't change."

"Puppy." He said ignoring her. "Bird." He tried again.

"How about a cat?" She asked tipping her head to the side, eyes narrowing as she peered over her work.

"Nah…" He lobbed it ahead of him, "Bird." He stumbled forward bumping into his sister.

She pushed him back, "Enough already!"

He glanced at his phoenix then at her, and stuck his tongue out before trying again…face filled with hope as he called out, "Puppy."

And to his utter shock, his small stuffed phoenix morphed into a maroon colored puppy…landing on the pillows just ahead of him. He squealed in delight as the puppy wagged its tail, letting out a few yaps… "Told you!" He dove forward, utterly jubilant.

Rose watched him for a minute, stunned. _"How'd you do that?"_ She asked reverently.

"Don't…" He laughed as he rolled on his back, and the puppy pounced on him, "Know."

"I may have had something to do with it." Minerva admitted as she finally stepped into view.

Rose jumped up, barreling forward until her body slammed into Minerva's, arms already wrapping around her lower waist in an attempt at a hug. "Aunt Minerva!"

Even Hugo rolled over, grabbing his new puppy by its neck as his tiny legs moved at a phenomenal speed to cover the distance in time to get a proper hug as Minerva knelt down. "Aunt Merva!"

"Hello my bonnie wee lass and sprightly lad."

"Where were you last weekend?" Rose asked arms still tightly wrapped around her aunt's neck. "We missed you."

"I'm afraid I have no good explanation…"

"Mom said you were out helping to find bad wizards," She leaned back, brown eyes blinking as Hugo slopped a kiss onto her Aunt's cheek.

"Thank you, Hugo."

He held up the puppy, "Can I keep it?"

"For just a little bit, but when I leave I'm afraid the puppy will need to go too."

He went to whine, but Minerva merely gave him a subtle shake and he muttered, "Alright."

"But…" Minerva's voice dropped, "I'll be here for a little while, so why don't you go play."

"Really?" He asked, and at her urging darted back into the heart of the room.

Rose's fingers were toying with strands of her hair, "What happened?" She asked, "Why's it white? Can't you turn it back?"

"I'm afraid not," Minerva feigned a smile, "I do believe that it is a permanent edition."

"Why?" She asked.

_Why indeed. How simple life would be if I had but half the magic I once did. _ "Sometimes when casting spells, there are adverse effects if you don't cast them right; and that happened this past weekend."

"What does ad..erse mean?"

"Adverse, dear." Rose nodded, "I'd like you to repeat it with me. Alright?" Rose gave another nod, "Ad..verse."

"Ad..verse."

"Wonderful." She rocked back on her heels and sat fully down, Rose beaming at having been able to say another new word. "It means not always going as planned. For instance, if I were to try and animate your picture but the picture got up and walked away; that is an adverse effect from a spell."

"Ohhhh…" Rose said, kind of understanding, but…not really. "And did you get the bad wizards this weekend?"

Minerva sighed, "No, I'm afraid I did not."

Rose's face momentarily sank into a frown, but then immediately lifted. "That's okay, I'm sure you'll get them soon." She scrambled towards her latest drawing, as she continued speaking. "You are _the_ Headmistress of Hogwarts."

Minerva marveled at the young child's faith. "So I've been told."

Rose picked up her stack of drawings, "Here." She handed them to Minerva, "Wanna see what a drew since you amimated my drawings Saturday."

"Animate." Minerva corrected as she took the proffered folder. "Like animal, but replace the end with mate."

"Animalate." Rose tried again and shook her head at herself, "Animate."

"Well done." Minerva opened the folder, and absently pulled her glasses from the hidden pouch along the shoulder of her robes. The glasses instantly growing as she withdrew them and deftly put them on.

"Why do you only need those, sometimes?" Rose asked, as she stared at her Aunt.

"I'm afraid my eyes are old and do not focus as well as they once did." She began flipping through the pictures. "And, if you don't mind, I'd like to see how well these compare to the other ones I saw."

Rose didn't need a second prompting and she bolted from the room, Hugo laughing in the background as Minerva continued looking at the depictions. One was of her brother sleeping, his stick figure hugging what she assumed to be his red stuffed animal; a comical rendition of Milksy playing with the two of them; a snowball fight between brother and sister; Molly's magical kitchen and she found herself staring at the last picture; innately, she found herself transposing the real furniture for what was drawn; a picture of their mother, sitting in her study at Hogwarts…a sad, tearful expression upon her face.

She didn't even hear Rose enter, however, she felt her soft hand along hers; "Mom didn't know I saw."

"What did _you_ see?" She asked, drawing the young girl into a gentle, supportive hug; almost afraid to learn the truth.

Rose turned and sat, her back against Minerva's side and chest as she took the picture from Minerva's hand. "When I got up, she didn't hear me come out the first time. She…was sitting by herself…crying." Rose turned to her Aunt, "You don't think it was because I did something wrong, was it?"

Minerva leaned forward, tenderly kissing her temple. "I know for certain it had nothing to do with you or your brother; Rose. She loves you both _very _much."

Rose's jaw quivered as large brown eyes blinked, a tear falling onto her cheek. "She was so sad," She turned to her Aunt, "You sure?"

Minerva gently reached up, wiping off the fallen tear; "Yes. Your Uncle Harry and your father were both hurt trying to catch a bad wizard and she was just worried about them both."

"Mom said they would be alright."

"Yes, lass; they will be."

"Then why was she crying?"

"She was worried about them, and very afraid they would not be alright."

"But they are." Rose whispered, obviously trying to understand, but knowing that she wasn't.

"Yes. And the tears were from after she found out they would be alright. Think of them as happy tears because she was relieved."

"What's relieved?"

"You, little one, have some very unique gaps in your vocabulary." Minerva dropped her hands, and tickled Rose's waist. The girl erupted into laughter, trying…unsuccessfully to block her aunt's hands. After thirty seconds, Minerva stopped and with a serious look on her face said, "You're relieved I'm not tickling you anymore."

Rose chuckled, small hands coming forward intent obvious…as she was going to try and tickle her Aunt. "That's not relieved…" She said, grasping at the emerald cloth.

"Really?" Minerva asked, and again she reached out, fingers generating peals of laughter from the young girl.

"Don't…" She pointed to the drawings, worry in her eyes that her precious bits of papers would be crumpled as she rolled away. Only to stand up, gasping as tears of laughter shined in her eyes. "Please don't fold the pictures."

"How about I take a look at these real quick too." Minerva picked up the folder, patting her lap. "Have a seat, and we'll look at them together."

Rose quickly came over, and before she could get comfortable, Hugo nestled along her other side, "Me too, me too." He said peering wide eyed towards the folder.

"Do you like your sister's pictures?"

He yawned, "Yeah; the moving ones." He rubbed his left eye with his knuckle; "Can you…" He pointed to the puppy, "Phoenix?" He yawned again.

With little more than a wave, the puppy flew through the air, morphing back to its original state and landed in his lap. "Now, where were we?" She opened the folder and found herself staring at a picture of Rose, Hugo and their father in front of a quidditch stadium.

"We went to see quidditch with dad a couple weeks ago." Rose explained, "I haven't seen him to give it to him. We'll get to see him this weekend."

"Did you like going to the game?"

"Yeah, we couldn't see too well; and dad was busy…so we didn't get to use the omniculars."

"Ohh, was he using them?"

Hugo shook his head, "No."

"Fresca was." Rose muttered.

"And who is Fresca?" Minerva asked, wanting to understand the children's sudden lack of enthusiasm regarding the person.

"Dad's _girlfriend_." Rose snipped. "He takes her out with us lots of times and then…"

"Doesn't spend time with you?" Minerva quietly asked. Rose and Hugo both nodded, and Minerva bit back a less than savory remark…opting to save it for another time. For instance, this coming Saturday, after the Order meeting; with the person it _needed_ to be directed to. "He will." She kissed the top of their heads, "He's just been busy."

"He's always…busy." Rose quietly remarked.

Minerva let it go, not wanting to give it any more credence than it already had. "And you didn't want to include Fresca in your picture?"

"No." Rose stated, "She's not part of my family." She turned to Minerva, "So, she can't be in the picture." She settled back into Minerva's lap. "Next."

Minerva squelched any additional commentary and turned to the next picture; and she felt a smile upon her lips at seeing Arthur and Molly standing beside the children and the gnomes' heads popping out of the garden. Rose and Hugo running forward, obvious they wished to catch one. "And are you giving this one to Molly and Arthur?"

Rose's head bobbed, "Yup. Going to ask mom to buy a frame to put it in next time we go shopping."

"Do you mind if I borrow," She pretended to scan the room for a moment, and then a blank piece of parchment jumped forward, "This?"

"No…why?"

Minerva took the parchment; Rose and Hugo watched in amazement as her walking stick morphed into her wand as she held the parchment over the picture. She held them both aloft, children transfixed as she cast a spell…and suddenly the picture was within a rich red oak frame that would easily match the Weasley's décor. "How's that?" She asked, handing the frame to Rose; feeling a wave of fatigue ebb through her system.

"Wow!" She spun around, hugging her Aunt. "That was…" She turned back and nestled into her warmth, "Awesome!"

Minerva tiredly closed her eyes as she held them both, "Thank you." She whispered, brogue far more pronounced than usual.

"You know…" Rose's voice held a note of conviction, "I'll be able to do that one day."

"Me too." Hugo chorused.

"I have no doubt, that you will both be very good at magic." Minerva forced her eyes open, "Now, what do we have next?" She narrowed her eyes, having problems focusing her vision; however she found herself smiling at the vague outlines…remembering the morning quite well. She had been keeping the children busy as Hermione had slept. Of course, what she deemed alright to keep them busy; versus most parents, including Hermione, was probably slightly unorthodox. Then again, if a child was born into magic and had magic; why would you not expose them and teach them of it when learning was still…easy. She never understood why so many people preferred not to educate their children, insisting that was why Hogwarts had been built.

"Remember that morning?" Rose asked, peering up at her.

"Of course," She said, "And do you?"

"It's one of my favorite memories." Rose said reaching up, "Here." She turned the page, to show her other grandparents' house. "That is Nana and Papa Granger; have you ever met them?" She pointed to the upper bedroom on the left side, "This is where I stay, and…" Her finger slid to the back side, "Hugo stays beside me."

"I have met them," Minerva answered, "Many, many years ago. When your mother was a little older than your cousin Albus, I went to their home and explained to them that your mother was a witch and had an opportunity to go to Hogwarts."

"Really?" Rose partially turned in her lap as Hugo sunk farther down, eyes drooping. "You know them?"

"I have only met them…" Minerva thought back, trying to recall if she did in fact meet the Grangers again following the Battle of Hogwarts. "Twice."

"Ohhh…" Rose frowned, "So, I won't get to see them when I start going to Hogwarts either?"

Minerva chuckled, "Of course you can visit them; they are _your_ family, dear."

"But…" Large brown eyes looked up at her, "You don't see them, and you are part of my family."

"They are your grandparents, and will _always_ want to see you." She kissed Rose's head, "And while I'm flattered that you think I am part of your family, Rose…it is _your_ family and you can go see whoever you want; you most certainly don't need my permission. Rather, I need _your_ permission because I'm not part of their family."

"But I want you to be." Rose whispered, fingers playing along the hemline of her shoulder. "Is that okay?"

"I'd be happy to be part of your family Rose, but only so long as you want me to be. Alright?"

Rose re-adjusted herself, "Does that mean I can come and see you more often?"

"Some days." Minerva replied noncommittally.

"How 'bout the next time I come to Hogwarts?" Hope ringing in her voice.

"I'll try my best to be there." Minerva truthfully answered, not wanting to dash the young girl's hopes again, especially if something came up and for some reason she _wasn't_ able to see her.

"I know." Rose answered, honestly. She changed to the last picture, "And this one is for mom." She pointed to the rendition of her, "That's you, and Milksy too…" She said. "You're both part of my family at Hogwarts, along with mom, me and Hugo."

"You did a lovely job, Rose." Minerva stated, placing the remaining four pictures back into the folder and setting them atop the picture now adorned in a frame.

"Do you think," Rose glanced at the folder, "You could trans…change some more paper and make frames?"

"Not today," Minerva's fingers gripped her wand, willing it to morph into her walking stick. Inwardly bemoaning the notion that not only did she still need the infernal thing, but…she'd have to carry a separate one as it was taking too much out of her to perform the simple feat. "As I am already running a wee bit late for a meeting and do need to leave, so why don't you ask your mother to help you with that, or…even your Aunt Ginny?"

A dubious expression passed over her face, "Maybe mom…" She scrunched up her face, "Not Aunt Gin; she's good on a broom, maybe Uncle George."

"There you go." Minerva said, gently levitating the slumbering boy over to the pillows. "And I'll see you soon." She said pulling her glasses off and tucking them back into her robes.

Rose nodded, "Okay." She gave Minerva a big hug, "Don't get anymore white hair, Aunt Minerva." She kissed her cheek, "I like your black hair better."

"I'll try, dear one." Minerva returned a soft kiss to the young girl's cheek, "Now be good for Molly and Arthur."

"Can you…" She reached into her folder and handed Minerva the picture of her Hogwarts' family, "Give this ta mom for me? She didn't keep it after you a…nimated them last weekend; Hugo and I were to excited to see the pictures moving. So she told me to keep it."

"I'd love to." Minerva took the parchment, "Framed?"

Rose nodded, "Please."

"I'm sure I can manage something." Minerva said eyes twinkling far more than they had in days.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva rounded the corner, eyes taking in the splendor of the building before her and she swallowed the bile and willed herself forward. In reality, the experience was transitory and while it would be utterly painful for a few hours; it would irrevocably _solve_ one of her problems – permanently.

Walking stick firmly in hand, she strode ahead; the brass door opening merely at her will; as she _would not_ touch the blasted thing. Wanted nothing to do with, or the building…or the paper for that matter; but some things _had _to be done through the Daily Prophet. And _this _was one.

The three receptionists all glanced up as a burst of cold swept in, an oddity as the air generators kept the cold air out and warm air in when persons came and went from the building; but…at seeing who was striding forward, they all forgot that tidbit, not even noticing that the witch in question _had not_ opened the door. Rather…the door…had held itself open, for her.

"Does Milan still hold an office on the eighth floor?" The Scottish witch asked, and numbly all three persons nodded. After all, it wasn't every day that the Headmistress of Hogwarts _came to_ the Daily Prophet. Matter of fact…the one middle-aged witch, couldn't think of a single time the revered witch had ever come to the Prophet; let alone know that Mrs. Peoples office was on the eighth floor.

"Uh…if you take the elevator, get off on the eighth floor; make a right she's in the last office at the end of the hall." Cordie finally managed under the intense gaze.

"Thank you." Minerva uttered before her cloak flourished about her, walking stick pinging in time with her boots; as she marched to the elevator. All three persons had stood, and watched her go…even more surprised that an elevator…was waiting, on her to enter.

Minerva stepped into the brass contraption, touching the desired button turned around as the doors closed to see three gaping faces staring after her. However, she consoled herself with far lighter thoughts as she waited to arrive upon the correct floor; Rose and Hugo. They were marvelous children, and…it warmed her heart that Rose thought of her as part of 'their' family. And the drawings she had done were nothing short of brilliant. She'd have to ask Filius to perform a basic transfiguration spell this evening or perhaps if she wasn't too tired after this fiasco of a day; she'd go ahead and 'make' one more frame.

The quiet ding of arrival immediately ended her ruminations; and she schooled her face into a picture of serenity. The doors opened and she made a right; and almost instantly…the ambient noise in the room dissipated as journalists and editors alike began to follow her movements. She ignored them all; stopping at the doorway of her once, protégé. She was in a meeting with the Editor of the Prophet, Alex Richards. "Excuse me for the intrusion Alex, but I was hoping to speak with Milan for several minutes."

Both Alex and Milan's head snapped up, the momentary frustration upon his face dissipating upon seeing who it was. "Ahh…" He turned from Milan back to McGonagall, "Of course."

"Please come in," She motioned for her to take the seat Alex had just vacated, "This is a first."

Minerva took the offered seat, the door closing as she sat. "For many things." She responded, causing Milan's brow to quirk.

"Ohh," She crossed her hands, fingers interlaced as she studied the woman opposite. She had known her for years; and knew her far better than most would ever know; but in some ways…she hardly knew her. And she definitely didn't know how to read the woman, "I have to admit," She stated breaking the silence, "That you _have _piqued my curiosity; as to what and why you would come here and to me."

"I've decided to make a statement regarding the current Minister of Magic," Minerva simply stated, "And I'd like _you_ to print it."

Milan stared at the woman, unabashedly stared. She had never known Minerva to make a statement about _anyone_, especially in a public venue. It just wasn't, her. She didn't feel it to be dignified or purposeful. "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, as…I…"

"Don't believe it is I?" Milan nodded, and before her numb mind could come up with a question. Minerva spoke again, "We first met in 1945, a small room and you eventually joined me in Scotland at my family's home. The following spring you rode a broom with Derrick, and after an hour persuaded him to ride it alone; however, upon landing you crashed into the stone wall to the east of the house before the brook and scared you're the inside of your right knee."

Milan held her hand up, "I believe you." She rasped, "But, why make a comment regarding the Minister. Surely, you know he will be ousted from office within a year."

"With everything else going on, my dear." Minerva peeled her hat off, causing Milan to outwardly gasp. "I'd rather not wait."

"Was that from this past weekend?" She asked, eyes filled with pain at what…her mother, sister…what do you call a woman who had raised you… "The incident at St. Mungos?"

"I'm not here to speak about that, Milan. But, yes; it was."

"Are you…" She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Are you alright?"

Minerva buried the sad truth from her eyes as she focused on her most recent memory; Rose and Hugo, enabling a sparkle to emit from her eyes. "Fine. Albeit a bit tired."

"You realize that once the story is published…"

"I am aware of the ramifications, dear. That is why I rarely speak about a subject; especially one that is _this charged_."

"He'll try and have you removed from Hogwarts."

"Yes, but…he'll need to remain in office to do so." She easily replied, and for the first time the corners of Milan's mouth quirked.

"Alright, I'll print your statement." Milan hedged a bet, "But I'd like a new picture," She nodded at her, "To put with it." At the storm brewing in emerald eyes, she quickly expanded, "I won't elaborate nor speculate as to what caused your sudden streak of white; but…" A rare tender expression befell her face, "Everyone will know. The incident at St. Mungos has been headlining for three days; and it'll help expedite his departure." Blue eyes sincerely measured green ones, "I know you despise politics, always have; and find little use for their games. I have no idea, why now, of all times, you are going to speak against the Minister. It seems rather imprudent, but I'm sure you have _your_ reasons. You always do. So, trust me, and let me help _you_. Because, I know news," She pulled out a piece of parchment and quill, "And politics."

"Very well." Minerva grudgingly acquiesced, "I'll ask Helena to send you a small statement over regarding my health too."

"You know, Minerva." She dipped the tip of her quill into an ink pot, before letting her eyes drift over the woman's face. "It looks…good." She held up a hand staying her comment, "I'm serious. Granted, it's still shocking, disturbingly so; but…if Albus was here, I'm sure he'd agree and state that it is a pleasing change."

_He already did_…

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"I am sorry, Minerva I have not had the resources available to finish…"

"I did not come here regarding the accounting of my vaults, Griphook." Minerva interjected.

"Ohhh," The elderly goblin eased his stance, "Then what can I help you with?"

"The Transfiguration Fund that I donate to…"

He nodded his head, "Yes, what would you like to know?"

"How much of my charitable gift is allocated to them?"

He furloughed his brow at the odd question, "I believe you asked two percent of your annual net revenue to be allocated to the fund." He was already opening a locked file drawer at his desk, which was where he kept _his_ customer files.

"You needn't verify," Minerva leaned forward, "Do you by chance have a blank piece of parchment and a quill that I may borrow?"

"Of course." He quickly procured a sheaf of paper and a phoenix quill.

Minerva eyed the maroon feather, "I didn't know you could still acquire these?"

Griphook smiled, he should have known that _she_ would know what type of feather that was. "The supply is limited to a hundred per annum. As you are aware, it is a precious instrument."

Minerva quickly scratched across the surface, the ink easily flowing without blotches or marks. It had been a _long_ time since she had seen or used one. "Are they legal?" She inquired, knowing that some rare quills were done to the detriment of the animal and not during the birds molting.

"The only one still operating."

"And," Minerva signed her name and conjured a petite ring from nothing that held her seal. "The cost?"

"Over 700 galleons. I shall ask Mr. Ishtan; he does not like to sell to new persons. However, he may be persuaded."

"I'd like two, if possible." Minerva pressed her seal into the bottom of the parchment.

"Two?" Griphook questioned, he didn't know if he could procure one let alone two.

She handed him the letter, "Yes. And tell him if he'll make an exception that the recipient will pay 1600 for the both."

Griphook blinked up at the witch who so rarely sought high end merchandise, "Of…course." He breathed, "I shall let you know by the end of the week. And…" He scanned the letter, a frown lining his face. "And you mean to do this now?"

"Yes," She answered. "It seems the council controlling their fund has…become rather inept."

Black eyes took in the woman before him, "Very well. I will send the letter to them immediately, and also forward the news to St. Mungos Administrator."

"And shall I venture a guess as to the delay regarding my accounting has something to do with the Ministry?"

"It seems that you have attracted the Unspeakable division; and they are trying to track you…even through your finances."

"Then I shall remain patient."

"I have but one vault left to count; your personal vault. Dumbledore's was finished a week Friday."

"Very well. Take your time and please, remain innocuous."

"Of course." He simply stated.

She set the quill down and stood, "And be advised my friend, that this madness will be drawing to a close; so, please try and keep a low profile for the next several weeks."

A spark of mischief lined black orbs, "Then you mean to address the Ministry head on?"

She paused at the door, "Yes."

He gave a solitary nod, "Be safe."

"You too." She slipped from his office, and he couldn't help but wonder _what_ had caused the subtle yet definitive change in the woman.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George and Percy both smiled at their former Head of House, and now current Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Good day, Professor." Percy began.

"McG." George smiled, "Business at the Wizengamout?"

"I was here on other business I'm afraid." She drew to a stop before the two men. "I was hoping to have a moment of your time." Percy began to nod, but Minerva clarified. "Just George's."

Percy frowned, but nodded moving away slightly while casting the two a backward glance.

"Is everything alright?" George asked as they moved to the office.

"Fine." She answered while walking beside him, "Business is maintaining?"

"We've seen a pick up this past month; everyone getting ready for Christmas. And Hogwarts, seems quiet there."

"As quiet as it can be, considering the time of year." Minerva waited until he closed the door and had withdrawn his wand; sound proofing the room.

"What can I help you with?"

"I came here for two reasons, George. The first is regarding the Minister and…"

"I've already launched a campaign." He interjected but trailed off at her raised hand.

"I was aware, however, that is not what I came here to discuss."

"Ohhh."

"Rather, your assistance in not launching a campaign." "George, your father currently is one of several dark horse candidates and likely will only win a marginal number of votes when Britain finally decides to conduct a recall vote." At George's crestfallen expression Minerva hurriedly continued, "but with your help I hope we can change that."

"What did you have in mind McG?"

'You helping him prepare a statement and operating a very short, energetic campaign for your father who will be thrust into the front by my public endorsement the day after tomorrow when I derail the Minister from his office."

George stared at the elder witch, speechless.

"The Prophet will run an article regarding my views of the Minister; his statements amongst several other topics, including who I believe would be a possible candidate emerging as the talks of a recall have already begun."

"You…" George finally swallowed, "Went to the Prophet?"

"I did." Minerva succinctly stated.

His mind went into overdrive at exactly _what_ that would mean…both good and bad. For the past several months, the Ministry and Minister had disparaged her actions, words, character….and she had not uttered a word in retaliation. In truth, quite the opposite had happened; she had gone above and beyond not to make the Ministry look bad. He wondered _what_ precisely had caused her to take the gloves off so to speak. "He'll go after your position."

"You leave Kingsley to me, George." She patted his upper arm, "I need you to worry about your father, and getting him elected."

"Saturday, you say?"

"The morning edition." Minerva said, "And if you are to take an ad out; make it page two or three. The front page is rather full."

"Do you already know the layout?" He asked, surprised.

"Two or three." She repeated, "And no one; and I mean no one can know of this until the story breaks."

"No worries, McG. I'll have him ready, and mum's the word." He rocked back on his heels, smile cracking his face. "What made you swing back?"

"It's just time." She evasively replied.

George knew better than to push, "And what was the second thing?"

"Something a bit more on the personal side."

"Ohh…" George scanned her face, eyes. "It is nothing serious is it? Helena said you'd make a full recovery…"

"I'm afraid it has very little to do with last weekend, but of some information that was shared this week that…was taken horribly wrong." Minerva reached out, a bound leatter stretching from her fingers to him. "And I wish I did not have to ask this George, but I have need of you to deliver this to Rory."

George's heart fell to his boots. "Huh?" He asked, face suddenly becoming white.

"He is on the northeast side of the property, you'll need to utter the word, 'Lochlee' to pass the small stone wall. Touch the small metal emblem on the end of the ribbon, it is a portkey; and Rory's last name will activate it."

"Minerva…" George breathed, "I don't…I mean…" He gasped, "I'm not…why me?" He finally managed, knowing that he had been _anything _but subtle.

"Take the letter, George." She stated, voice leaving little room for argument. "It'll answer _your _question once you deliver it."

"He…" George swallowed his fear, "Lives in the highlands, not on your property…"

"Ahh…" She quirked her brow, "That is 'his house';" Her eyes glanced to the small metal trinket, "Whereas, that will take you to _his home._"

"Why don't you just go speak with him?"

"We didn't leave on best of terms; and unfortunately I have a few things that need to be sorted out before Saturday morning and _that_ is one of them." She turned, hand on the copper knob. "Besides, I thought you'd relish the opportunity to see him this evening." His jaw dropped at her knowing smile, "Good day, George. And do be careful, that part of the property is rather wild." She opened the door and was gone before he could formulate a response.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Now try…" Tom handed her a new glass. "This one."

Minerva graciously took the tumbler, green eyes reflecting the precious golden liquid. She paused, knowing that he would not have asked her to stop by unless he was fairly sure. Especially after so many years of trying.

Slowly, she raised her hand; the cool glass touching her lip…only moments before a familiar light oak flavor burnt it ways down her throat; followed by a sudden burst of warmth as the tendrils malt ruptured across her system.

Tom stared anxiously, waiting for Minerva's reaction. The suspense…eating through his nerves as he…waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then she raised the tumbler again a second time, face still couched in a neutral look as she sipped the malt a second time. His heart beating loudly against his chest; this was the first time in thirteen years that she had _ever_ taken a second sip.

And still he waited.

He watched as she swirled the liquid through her mouth, across her palate…

And he couldn't help but wonder for the millionth time, why _this_ mattered to her so much. She had diverted two entire lines to finding out why the 1914 silver malt had such a unique boutique of flavors and the fabled 'fizzy wizzy' aftertaste that seemed to echo through your system. Of course, to anyone asking about the loss of two lines…the response was to focus on the _core_ business to remain profitable.

As if remaining profitable was an issue for Minerva. After all, she had stopped taking a salary or profit thirteen years ago, when she closed the business lines and diverted millions of pounds in operating costs to her 'new project'.

Initially, when he asked if they would be marketing the new line, she hedged and said they'd see. That was thirteen years ago. Thirteen years of testing, trials, formulas…and a thousand no's from the one person, they had to get a 'yes' from before they could finally begin distilling.

They had stripped the contents down from current samples; as she had given them two cases from her private stores with the understanding that they were to use it, sparingly at best. She had researched her family archives, finding the original formula; everyone believing that batch would finally meet her stringent expectations…but it didn't and they had gone back to carefully crafting new ideas.

Over and over they had tried.

And failed.

Each time seemingly coming closer, but even they stopped asking after the third year; knowing that anything less than perfect would not pass. Having tasted the precious amber liquid; they re-doubled their efforts…

Year after year…

Over six hundred trials…

And still they failed.

At least, until now or so he hoped. As did the entire testing branch, as eighteen people gazed up at her…waiting.

Hoping.

Himself, included. Especially…after their conversation four months, early August specifically, ago when she had asked him to close the entire research division to help with the product development. To say he had been aghast at the idea had been an understatement; but…that had been only the second time in their entire partnership that she had informed him that she, not he, was the controlling partner. And while she did not interfere and had not in decades regarding the company's operation; she _was _going to meddle now.

_"Minerva, you've already expanded it to five; and to shut down the 'entire' research division…we'll…"_

_ "I'm not asking Tom." Her voice reverberating across the room, fatigue evident in her voice and posture. _

_ "I…." He swallowed as she stepped closer, and he felt himself want to crumble under her imposing gaze and iron will. "Do you know how far we'll be behind? How much the company stands to lose?"_

_ Green eyes drilled into him and he gasped. "Aye, I do."_

_ "What…" He threw his hands up in the air, "Why is this so important ta ya, lass? We 'will' find it." _

_ Minerva never flinched, "I'll underwrite the cost, Tom. Just make it happen."_

_ He felt a ping of fear coil in the pit of his stomach at her response. "You've been underwriting this for years. And to expand the cost…Luv, what is going on?"_

_ "Please Tom." She reached forward, squeezing his shoulder. "Make it happen. It's 'very' important to me."_

_ "I…"_

_ "Just make it happen." She pulled away, "By the Holidays if possible…"_

And so…he did what she had asked. He pulled the entire research division to assist…even the experimental division; without her knowledge. He would do what he had to make it happen. He'd underwrite _their_ expense himself.

And…they had found a nugget of a lead three weeks ago; and they had progressed it forward. Every person believed it was extremely close…especially given the 95 year age difference between her 1914 label; and the new formula they were working on.

Now; they were waiting for the true test.

Minerva's test.

And as her lips began turning up, he felt his own mimicking hers. "I do believe, you have found what we have been looking for Tom."

"Are you sure?" He asked, needing to verify.

She swirled the glass in her hand, "It brings back the past." Her eyes smiled, "It has the same texture and taste; I imagine in a few years the oak will continue to lessen." She stepped around him, voice carrying outward. "My thanks! You have done a marvelous job! Congratulations!" Cheers erupted amongst the researchers; and she turned back to Tom's now beaming face. "Begin start up on both lines 10 and 11; however, 10 remains private and 11 is for commercial distribution. Limited release."

His eyes widened, "I thought you would like to…"

She upended her glass, "This was never about profit, Tom. As I said, this was personal. The 11th line is to recoup for _your_ loss, as well as the company's."

"Minerva…"

A smile barely touched her eyes as she banished the glass, "We'll talk later, Tom." Her eyes glancing to the clock, "I have need to be elsewhere this evening, additionally to having a bit of dinner."

"Next week?" He asked, barely able to breathe at her prior statement.

"The first part; and please do start production. I'd like to have the cases Bonnie asked for; with an additional two dozen from the new line."

"I know you must have your reasons luv, but…I have to say I canna understand what they are."

"I daresay not." She feigned a smile, "Call it a late thank you to a very dear friend before I do not have the ability to do so."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: The second part of this chapter will be up within the week; which will either immediately precede or follow the last chapter of The Massage. As always, hope you enjoyed! _


	52. Chapter 49b December 3rd, 2009

**Chapter 49b ~ December 3****rd**** 2010 (Thursday)**

Hermione uttered the password, feeling both anxious and nervous as to what Minerva had planned for the evening as the gargoyle continued its ascent. She had sent her a note at dinner, asking her to come to the Head of Hogwarts room of requirement versus the main one for her practice. She just hoped it had little to do with dueling and more on theory; but…she doubted that was the case as Minerva always _mixed_ the two.

Taking a steadying breath, she opened the door…to see a large brilliantly lit room that was a good rendition of the ballroom at the Manor.

Minerva turned, "Ahh, right on time, I see." She found herself pausing as the soft light cascaded across her lush features, and while the lesson was a sound one…and would require little magic, there was the added wrinkle of her growing feelings and suddenly acute awareness regarding the younger woman's beauty and features. "How are your cubs doing?" She forced the thoughts and feelings aside, deftly _trying _to remain focused.

"Well, and enjoying the fresh snow with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm."

"Ahh, the essays are beginning to show up a half inch too short."

"Dare I ask how far some of the students will try and go?"

"As far as they believe they can." Minerva chuckled remembering one instance many years prior, "I recall a young man who wrote his name out in large letters across the width of a scroll."

"Please tell me he put more than his name down?"

"The title."

"You're serious."

"Ask Arthur at some point."

"As in Weasley?"

Minerva genuinely smiled, "The twins inherited their mischief naturally."

"Wait until I tell Harry and Ginny." Her eyes lit up at the prospect, "They'll never believe me."

"Nor would you believe that I gave him an E for his ingenuity."

"Really?" Hermione began shaking her head, "You're right, I don't believe you."

"I did, with the small note that if he ever tried something as foolish as that again he'd have a year's detention as it did not do well for him to spend more time pursuing Miss Prewitt versus his studies." Minerva shook her head at the distant memory, "Although, it seems as though it worked out."

"Yes, it did." Hermione drew to a stop just over a meter away, "You look like you got a bit of rest since the other morning; and I am hoping that you and Rory have sorted your differences out."

"I have got a bit of rest, thank you. As for Rory and I; our relationship remains a bit tenuous; and Filius told me that you and he practiced a bit of form and the initial mastery level of several charms spells."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George stared at the rolled parchment, the small bronze oriental trinket that mocked him to touch it. "Do you mind closing up?" He called out to his brother, the shop having just closed.

"You gonna go see your mystery woman?" Percy yelled back.

"Actually, no." He picked up the banded letter; "I have an errand that McG needs taken care of."

"Where?" Percy asked, "And do you need help?"

"No," George answered as he strode from the office, "But thanks for the offer."

"You never said what she came here for."

"No," George slapped his brother on the shoulder as he walked past him, "I didn't."

"George…"

"Night, Percy." He opened the shop door, and as it swung close…his hand grasped the portkey… "Wallace." He uttered, feeling a wave of apprehension swell in his breast before the light and sound of Diagon Alley vanished and was replaced by a starlit blackness and hooting owls.

Taking a moment to quell his nerves, he shoved the letter into his cloak and pulled his wand out as his eyes scanned the blackness…to find a faint light ahead about 100 meters away. He took two steps forward and was thankful his foot came into contact with a mid-shin wall; squinting he could see it was made of rounded stones. "Lochlee." He whispered, and felt a rush of powerful magic suddenly sweep past his ears; leaving him to wonder what that would have done to an uninvited guest.

With no other obstacles in his path, George made short work of the walk and found the pathway to the house dimly lit; and lined with large flagstone. Gently, he knocked the snow from his legs and boots before ascending the final handful of steps and without thought, raised his hand and knocked.

However, the response from the interior shocked him.

"I swear, Minerva…I me'nt what I sa'd…" The door split apart, a fierce looking man; striding through, kilt swinging against his thighs…the soft glow of the outside lights glowing along his bare chest, wand out. "Don't rightly care if ya're dy….George." He stopped mid-rant, scowl immediately turning into shock, "What 're ya doing up here?"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"He did, but we primarily worked on form." Hermione stated, already dreading how 'bad' her legs were going to hurt later.

"Which we will be doing, though, in a slightly different construct." Minerva pushed away the last of her stray thoughts, needing to keep a clear mind. "As we are going to work on another form of dance or rather; the Foxtrot."

At the word dance, Hermione's mind stopped. She had been expecting…something arduous, at best…a tedious evening. Not…dancing; especially with Minerva. "Foxtrot?" Hermione managed to ask, sounding normal and not…overjoyed that her legs while, sore would not be unbearable. Or…at the notion of being able to be taught by her. She was…after all, a marvelous dancer.

"I'm sure you have heard of it, dear."

Hermione's mouth suddenly had a problem forming around the words, but she found herself inadvertently clearing her throat to shed the problem, "I have, however, I don't…see how it'll help me to learn body movement. It can't be that dissimilar to that of a Waltz."

"Ahh, I see." Minerva inwardly chuckled, a long time ago, she too had believed the same thing; how wrong she had been. "The Foxtrot has a construct, as does the Waltz." She noticed the flash of pride cross brown eyes, "However, while the turning movements are similar to the Waltz, but there is a more moderate rise and fall, and length-wise action across the floor."

"Fluidity." Hermione instantly realized.

Green eyes twinkled, "Yes." She answered, pleased with how fast Hermione deduced the rationale for their lesson.

"Is this a four count system too?"

"It is." Minerva countered, "Unlike the steady rhythm of the Waltz; this one is slow, slow, quick, quick…"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George blinked back his surprise at the open hostility that had lined his roguish features, "McG asked that I deliver…" He held out a bound parchment.

"God damn that woman." He snapped slapping the letter from George's hand. "I have nah use for her."

George felt like he was in a dream as his eyes followed the parchment as it slid down the length of Rory's balcony; his own anger flourishing as he recalled McG's heartened look as she asked him to take Rory the letter. "Are you telling me that you aren't even going to _look_ at her letter?"

He scowled, "No. I'm not."

"Dammit, Rory. I don't care to know what happened between you and McG; but she asked that I deliver that. Because she said some news was shared and it had been taken horribly wrong…"

"Wrong…!" Rory interjected, "Wrong…" His voice rising an octave, "Ya have nah idea, and she is usin' ya…George…"

"Yes, to deliver a message because you…"

"Dunno know 'hat ya're getting' in ta."

"Getting in to? The same could be said about you, Rory. Because I don't remember _this _address being relayed when talking about your home; or even that you had a second one." George rebuked, causing Rory's rebuttal to remain upon his lips as gray met blue.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"What are the steps?" Hermione's intrigue evident.

"We are going to focus on the basics. We'll have you start with the woman's part…"

Hermione raised her brow, "Versus the man's?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes. Part of learning is being versatile Hermione and the issue with learning only one set of body motion; is that you don't have the opportunity to feel what happens when leading."

"Then why not simply start with the man's part?"

"Because," Minerva's eyes didn't hold a full smile and Hermione could still see the fatigue. "You need to be comfortable with the construct, movement and footwork; so we can build upon it. And…while you are a quick study, you are not quite ready to lead; nor would I be able to hold a dip this evening. I'm afraid my hip is still rather tender."

"And what are the steps?"

"The movement is back, back, side, together. The footwork is right, left, right, left."

"To the count, slow, slow, quick, quick."

"And…" Minerva lifted her arms, "Your arms are as such." She extended her right arm out, curving her left arm as though embraced.

Hermione copied her, and Minerva nodded…before stepping closer, enabling her fingers to gently graze Hermione's arm and shift the angle. "Now…" She swept behind the younger woman, "Hold your body upright…" She placed her hands along her shoulders to pull them back a hint before dropping her hands as she stepped to the side; Minerva's voice becoming soft and she forced the tenderness from lacing her next words. "Or your back will be incredibly sore in the morning."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A muscle rippled along his jaw, emotions plainly and openly displayed across his face. "And did she tell ya that it is nah in my ability to let ya upon the property, but hers?"

His words ignited a spark in blue depths, "Are you telling me that you couldn't have brought me here?" George continued striding forward, "That you couldn't have told me that the home I thought you invited me in to; was not where you lived?"

"I do…live there." Rory snapped.

"And what of this place?"

"It's…become my home." Rory quietly admitted. "But, as for the first part, I never wulda braught ya her' if she hadna told ya."

"What is with the two of you?" George asked, words echoing outwards; lost in the blackness. "It's obvious that you both care for the other a great deal; and I don't believe that whatever she said or shared this past week was done maliciously."

"She wants me to reconcile with Aegis Black."

"The escapee from Azkaban? The one who almost killed you?"

"Aye." Rory said, fingers and chest beginning to feel the chill of the air as his adrenaline waned.

"Isn't that the man who killed her brother?"

Rory broke George's gaze, grey eyes making his way to the letter resting ten meters from him. "She no longer thinks so."

George instantly realized what had driven a wedge between the two. With hardly a wave, the letter jumped forward and into his fingers as grey eyes snapped to his face. "Here." He handed it to Rory, "She wouldn't have sent it if it wasn't important."

Rory's eyes flicked to the letter and then back, his shoulders sank and he turned. "I cannot." He said and strode back into his home.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione whispered as she moved her right foot back, "Slow…" Then her left one joining… "Slow…" And began to move as Minerva had stated earlier, bringing her other right foot to the side. "Quick…quick."

Minerva nodded, "Good. Again, please."

Hermione duplicated the steps, focusing on her footwork.

"Once more."

And as she repeated the process, the first strands of music washed through the room; it sounded like jazz…or even, "Is this Frank Sinatra?"

"It is." Minerva stated, "Without the lyrics." She stilled her heart and stepped forward, arms out. "Ready?"

Brown swept over green. "Of course." She stated simply, meeting Minerva halfway; noticing that her heart skipped a beat as the elder woman took her hand and long fingers gently touched her back...

"And…" Minerva listened to the music, the timing…and tried not to dwell on how warm _she _felt in her arms. "Two…One…"

Minerva slid forward...

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George didn't wait, didn't think…and followed, fingers already untying the leather seal and unrolling the parchment. "Oi, hold up and read the bloody letter Rory."

Rory spun around, wand still out…and with a mouth twisted in frustration; the wood groaned as his frustration took form and the wood snapped back together, reforming the door. "I willna forgive the man who took Derrick from this world."

"Do you think she would ask you to forgive him if she could not?"

"Ya do nah understand, they were lovers."

George stared at Rory, dumbfounded. "What?"

"The summer after Hogwarts and for an intermittent time after, as her father wasna ta keen and neither was his."

"You are a daft fool, Rory." George finally quipped, "How hard would it have been to believe and accept that your former lover had killed your brother; and then you learn there might be a shred of proof. How much proof do you think McG would have to have before she'd accept what he had to say? She doesn't let her emotions rule her thoughts, no matter what the Minister believes. And you, of all people, should know that."

"I dunno know what it would take." Rory admitted, "And ya're right. It would've taken a wee bit."

"The letter." George tried again.

Rory's eyes noticed the neat script, and despite knowing that he should…he couldn't. Because, what he couldn't tell George was that he believed Minerva may have swallowed her pride and her brother's too; in an effort to stop Harkiss as she was desperately running out of time. And while he knew on some level that she was right, Aegis could help them; he just…couldn't forgive him. "I canna, George."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione followed Minerva's lead; right leg back…then the left…and she felt sure arms guide her to the left as they slid to the side; and then together…before they began again.

Minerva's voice quietly reiterating the steps, "One…two…three…together. Good."

"Not…too hard." Hermione countered, desperately trying maintain the count.

"And three, together." Minerva continued, "One…two…"

"Sorry." Hermione uttered, feeling awful as she felt Minerva's foot beneath her own and it was confirmed by the slight wince that flashed across her features.

"Stay focused." Minerva merely countered, "And…one, two…" She paused again as Hermione's foot stepped upon her own, again.

"Sorry." Hermione's face suddenly feeling flushed.

"Just focus, dear." Minerva shifted her hold, creating a hairs breath more space between their waists. "And on three, remember we are sliding to the left."

"To the left." Hermione repeated.

Minerva gave a brief nod, "Just trust me, and follow my lead."

"I do trust you." Hermione replied, never having believed those words any more than at that moment.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

George stared at the proud lines of Rory's back and finished unrolling the parchment, having made a decision.

He tilted the paper towards the light, enabling him to see the crisp and far too familiar writing. And he began to speak aloud…the salutation shocking both he and Rory…

_George, _

_ I wish to thank you for your resolve this evening. _

_ Rory, I cannot answer every question, nor assuage every fear. I can, however, tell you that I believe Aegis. He did not kill Derrick, but had tried to save him during the dreaded nights. Voldemort did kill him; using his wand. During the torture, he gave your sister's whereabouts as my own. Aegis never thought there was a concern as I did not live there; he didn't know that your sister did; and apologizes._

_ As for the particulars, I'm afraid that will only be divulged face to face. Please do not take offense, George. _

_ And speaking of George, Rory…I would like you to take a look at the man before you. Yes, my dearest brother, turn around…and look._

George paused, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips at how well Minerva knew Rory. And to his amazement, Rory's head turned…grey eyes sweeping across his form; and he felt a sudden lump form in his throat and a tingling ignite in his soul as their eyes locked.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"…two, three, good. One, two, three, four." Minerva's voice beginning to wane, "One, ….three…"

"I may…" Hermione paused as she concentrated, eyes still upon their feet; "Manage this yet."

"And two." Minerva prompted, "Chin up."

"But…"

"Your eyes."

Brown eyes hesitantly rose up to meet green ones…and then she felt a foot beneath hers. "Shit."

Minerva paused, "Stop worrying about it, Hermione. Just focus."

"You won't have…"

"Focus, and stop worrying about being embarrassed. We've all had to start somewhere, no one knew had to dance when they were born."

"Save for you."

A rich chuckle slipped from Minerva's lips, "Quite the contrary, my father and mother both had their feet stepped on a fair number of times between my brothers and I as we learned."

"Somehow, I doubt that." Hermione stated, "You have far too much grace."

An ebony brow arched, "Grace is something that every person has, it merely has to be fostered. And it is…something that you posses in spades," She moved her body forward, Hermione innately moving backwards. "We just need to bring it out."

"I am nowhere near…"

"Three months ago, it would have taken you weeks to move like you are now." Minerva had brought them back to the beginning, "You merely need to believe in yourself Hermione." warm smile touched her eyes, "Now again."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George tore his gaze from Rory's, and swallowed the burst of desire that had momentarily pulsed in his veins.

_ If you don't want to believe me because of my past relationship and current shall we say…complications; then look into his blue eyes and remember what it was like to feel love. _

_ Yes, I loved Aegis. And from our love…we have found an accord and understanding; it was not based on anything else._

_ Aegis will help to stop the destruction of Hogwarts; and in doing so save all that both you and I hold dear. _

_ Including the man whom you love; and who loves you back._

_ George, please hand this letter to Rory. The rest is for him, alone._

George was too shocked to read any more; unable to fathom how McG knew that he liked…Rory. Let alone, the notion that he loved him. He felt a pull upon the parchment and numbly released it as he stared into nothingness.

_ I know you never planned on finding that which you had lost; but you have. And I am happy for you. Truly. For you have mourned my brother for far too many years. Let your heart heal; and let him go._

_ Embrace life._

_ Embrace passion._

_ Embrace love._

_ And live for both of us._

_ You will always be my brother Rory; in this life and into the next._

_ Love,_

_Minerva_

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione saw Minerva's face wince as they finished the sequence; "Do you need a break?"

Minerva stepped forward, "My leg will be fine." She stated, reassuringly. "Good, and two…that's it, but you need to keep your eyes up."

"I'll step on your feet." Hermione's gaze remaining fixed downwards.

"It'll be fine." Minerva continued moving about the room, "Your eyes, Hermione." The cadence in her voice shifted, "Let me see them."

"Minerva…"

"Your eyes." She countered in little more than a whisper. "Lift them up."

It had been so soft; barely reaching her ears…that she felt compelled to ignore her own desires, and she lifted her eyes to sea of green. They were so warm, inviting…veritable windows that while shrouded to her; she couldn't help but _want_ to imagine how beautiful they would look as they reflected her soul.

"Okay, next slide we are going to shift direction and go to the right." Minerva's voice immediately pulled Hermione's wandering thought back to the here and now; only to feel her foot beneath hers again. "Damn." She went to drop her eyes and pull away, but, Minerva didn't let her.

"You will get better. Just keep your eyes up."

"You're going to have to soak your feet for a week."

Minerva's mouth curled into a minute smile, "At least the evening."

"Minerva…I…"

"Will be fine; now focus."

"I don't want to hurt…"

"Close your eyes," Minerva continued to glide them around the room, "And trust me."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

The crackling fire was louder than their breathing; the lack of sound paramount as both men dealt with the contents of Minerva's letter. George standing rooted to the floor; unable to breathe or move. How could he? _If McG knew, then…_ He swallowed the bile lurching in his throat, _His family…would know…_ "Oh, my…." George began stumbling backwards, and only when his arm jerked…did he raise his eyes to see a face swimming in his peripheral vision. A face…he knew. One that he had dreamed of…but tears were blinding his vision.

"I…need to go." He sputtered as he tried to turn, but the grip on his arm tightened.

"George…"

"My family, they'll…" Panic had overtaken rationale thought, "I can't Rory. I can't afford to lose them, even…for you."

"Ya willna lose them, George." Rory stepped closer, "Minerva didna write those things to scare ya; she's my sista. She needed ta remind me what was important…"

Dozens of emotions poured through blue eyes, "If McG knows…"

"There isna much she doesna know, love."

"I don't buy that." George rebuked. "But, if she can figure out that I am attracted to you; then Percy or…mum…"

"Is clueless." Rory finished, "And even if they did know," He lifted his right hand up, running it George's shoulder, neck... "They will love ya just the same."

George blinked, feeling a weight deepen within his chest, "No…Rory." He breathed as fingers sunk into his hair, "Not Percy, he won't understand."

"Then he doesna understand luv." Rory murmured as he brought his body next to George, feeling the heat radiating from the younger man against his chest; and he could see the divide brewing in blue eyes. "And we'll make him." He whispered against his lips.

"Rory, I can't lose my family." George murmured as his body hummed and pulsed at the highlander's close warmth; and stirring grey eyes.

Rory's fingers unfastened George's cloak, "Ya willna lose your family." And it fell to the floor with a muted thud, "I promise."

Grey and blue held for a long minute before George stepped back, "I need to take this slow, and…see if this is truly what I want." His voice sounding strained, "Because the outcome will have serious repercussions to my family and…"

The last of his statement was muted as lips crashed against his, and thought momentarily ceased as he responded to his desire; and willingly opened to Rory's advances.

* * *

oxox

* * *

They swept around the room, Hermione inwardly cringing as she stepped on Minerva's foot for the umpteenth time. "I'm so sorry…" She whispered as Minerva visibly winced, causing her to immediately stop. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Minerva stated, "However, I believe the top of my foot has become slightly sensitive."

"Ohhh, I'm so…"

"Please stop apologizing, my dear. You are getting much better, and by the first of next week; you'll be doing marvelously."

"That still doesn't negate the fact that I have stepped on your feet at least a half dozen times."

Minerva merely smiled, "You did fine. Now, I believe that will be all for the evening, and we'll pick back up tomorrow evening."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, troubled with how early they were ending their session.

"Only if you are willing to give up your Friday evening." Minerva retorted.

"Will your feet…"

"Then that is a yes?"

Hermione nodded affirmative, "At least let me procure you a lotion from Poppy's stores for the bruising."

"No need." Minerva turned, heading towards the faint door; "I have some in my rooms;" She paused, "And something for you as well, if you have a few more minutes."

"Of course," Hermione quickly followed, stepping through the small study in her rooms and into her living room.

"Elgin," Minerva stated as she gingerly sat upon the sofa.

"Mistress." He appeared next to her, as Hermione sat opposite of Minerva. "Is you'se be needing something?"

"Perhaps a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and the small frame upon my office desk downstairs."

"Of course." He went to snap his fingers but Hermione interjected.

"And an ointment that helps bruising. Perhaps Olive ointment?"

Elgin raised a questioning brow to his Mistress, who held his gaze for a solitary moment before nodding and he was gone.

And the ointment and wooden frame instantly appeared beside Minerva. She reached for the frame, a shadowy smile crossing her face at the scene depicted within. Young Rose and Hugo warmed her heart to no end; and her eyes landed upon the rendition of their mother and she quelled the burbling emotion of love that seemed to _want_ to evolve…and it could not.

"I had the opportunity to stop by the Burrow this morning in my travels; and Rose asked if I could give this to you." She handed the picture across the expanse to Hermione.

Brown eyes traveled across the familiar lines of the picture from last weekend, "She did, did she?" Hermione quietly asked as Hugo clamored up into her arms and Rose wrapped her arms around Minerva in what could only be compared to a bone shattering hug. Her heart melting at the scene.

"It seems that you returned the pictures to the children after I animated them; and they were quite taken with them, hence why she still had it. And she very much wanted you to have it." Minerva paused, "And thank you, by the way for animating their pictures for me last weekend."

Hermione pulled her gaze upwards, feigning innocent. "I have no idea what you are referring to."

"I am sure you don't." Two tumblers filled with ice and a rich bronze liquid appeared beside a decanter. "But I thank you, none the less."

"To friends." Hermione stated as she picked up one of the glasses, Minerva the other…both taking a hearty swallow. "How are they?"

"Well," Minerva could feel the warm effects of the alcohol already traveling through her weary system as the corners of her lips involuntarily curled upwards as she thought back to this morning and Hugo's belief that if he willed it, his stuffed animal would magically transfigure into a puppy….or bird. "Though I believe they miss you."

"At this point," Hermione swallowed another sip, "I doubt it is me they wish to see when arriving at Hogwarts. This last weekend, from the moment I saw them until they left; they both wished nothing but to say hello to you." The crackling fire almost louder than her words, "It seems they are rather taken with you."

_And I with them,_ Minerva inwardly mused as she swirled the remnants along the bottom swell of her glass. "You have wonderful children, Hermione." She let her gaze hold a fraction of the feelings she felt for them, and the woman opposite before easily breaking their gaze and finishing the last of her glass.

"Thank you." Hermione stated, seeing the momentarily warmth flash across the green; causing a flutter to beat against her chest, wishing that she could see that brilliancy more often…or even be the cause…

Minerva gingerly reached for the decanter, "Would you like topped off?"

"How about…" Hermione deftly took the glassware, "I take care of this, and you put that ointment on your foot?" At Minerva's dubious expression, she continued on, "Or did you consent to Elgin bringing it to appease me?"

"It can wait until I retire for the evening." Minerva graciously accepted her tumbler.

"The bruising will be much less if you apply it now and again prior to bed." Hermione rebuked as she finished pouring her own glass.

Minerva inwardly sighed, knowing that she'd have to still both her hands and use a hint of magic to remove her boots; which would further tire her. Hence, the true reason it could wait. Because, she still had some things that needed to be sorted this evening; despite her fatigue and the growing ache across the top of her left foot. With seeming ease, she slipped first her left and then right foot from the back of her boots; the seams splitting apart.

"Then the front is for decoration?" Hermione asked as Minerva placed the second boot beside the first.

"It is." Minerva stated as she peeled her left stocking off and easily detected where her foot had been stepped upon as there was a large dark red area that was swollen…

"Minerva," Hermione set her glass down as she swept forward, "I thought you said it wasn't bad."

"It's hardly bruised." Minerva countered as Hermione sat on the edge of the sofa.

"That's because it just happened." She gently reached forward, touching the skin and…a wince of pain flashing across her face. "Here." She picked up the ointment, "Let me…"

"I'll manage." Minerva went to reach for the bottle, but Hermione moved it well beyond her reach.

"It's the least I can do." She shifted her seat, "Now, relax for a moment."

Minerva opened her mouth, but at seeing the firm lines of her lips clamped her mouth shut and leaned back; head resting against the high arm of the chair, right leg tucked up beneath her left knee while her left foot now lay in Hermione's lap. She watched as Hermione methodically unscrewed the cap off the bottle and then gingerly poured a bit of ointment into the palm of her hand; and she found herself staring at the way her brows knit in concentration or how the firelight danced across her features bathing them in a mix of shadow and light or the tenderness in which she cradled her injured appendage, eyes carefully examining the flesh. And Minerva closed her eyes;_ she didn't need to add any additional temptation. Hermione did that without effort solely upon her own_, she thought as fingers gently began stroking her sensitive flesh.

* * *

Oxxo

* * *

George mirrored Rory's actions as both men sunk their fingers into the other's hair, deepening their kiss as their other hand pulled their hips closer. And George moaned into Rory's mouth at feeling Rory's growing arousal pressing against his own.

And their kiss, deepened.

Tongues plunging…suckling….

"Ohh…" George broke the kiss, as Rory's hand cupped him, hips involuntarily jerking forward as lips descended down his neck. "I can't…"

"Does this feel wrong?" Rory rebuked as George's shirt fell open to Rory's wordless spell as lips and tongue trailed downward.

The singular word was ripped from George's throat, "No."

"Or this?" Rory asked as his lips suckled his navel while thumbs began massaging the area around his cock that was straining uncomfortably against his pants.

George couldn't help the way his hands fell to Rory's shoulders as he whispered, "…No…"

"Or…" Rory kissed the hardening mound between his thumbs; loving how George's body was responding to him. "This?"

"…Ahh…"

Rory didn't wait for the rest of his response as the seam split and his mouth encased the warm flesh before it was fully freed; feeling George's hips jerk as fingers slipped from his shoulders to his head.

"…Ro..ry…"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva bit back a cry as Hermione's fingers moved over the crown of her foot; the area exceedingly sore.

"Perhaps I'll ask Neville tomorrow to save your feet."

"Nonsense," Minerva stated without thought. "But…" She took in a harrowing breath, "I may let you look down a bit more tomorrow."

A rich laugh bubbled up from the depths of her lungs, as her hand slipped to the underside of Minerva's arch, gently kneading the ligaments, muscles and tendons. "I thought that wouldn't help."

"I believe it may help your self confidence…ahhh…" Minerva went to sit up, as her eyes flew open. "I don't believe…"

"Your muscles are beyond tight," Hermione interjected as she lessened the pressure upon her arch, "I'll be easy, but…you need…" She gently rolled her thumb across the bottom of Minerva's foot, "To relax."

"I consented to…" Minerva felt Hermione's grip across her foot tighten as she tried to pull it back, "You to rub in the ointment."

"Call it repayment." Hermione remarked.

"More like punishment." Minerva rebuked as leaned back into the cushions.

"Try and relax." Hermione admonished, a lightness in her voice. "I'll only _punish_ you for a few minutes; just long enough to release the pressure…" She gently pushed on the main tendon along the outer part of her arch. "Here."

"That's a bit tender." Minerva stated in a whisper as she willed her body to relax as fingers deftly began massaging her foot.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

He had wanted to take it slow, to prove to George that he could; but…the way George moaned as he began sliding along his shaft.

In…

"Yes…"

Out…

"Ohh…Rory…"

The way his hips bucked with undulated need…as he took more of him, in…

"I…"

Out…

And Rory swallowed, his own shaft pulsing; "Do you want this?"

George blurrily blinked, his body pulsing…needing…wanting to sink back into _his_ warmth; and as much as it scared him, he couldn't leave if his life depended upon it. He _needed_ him…too bad. "Please…Rory." George gasped aloud.

Rory stood, "Then…" He took George's lips hungrily with his own, "I want to feel you…"

George felt Rory's hand guide his own towards his abdomen, southward until…he felt Rory's erection through his kilt.

"That is what you do to me." Rory whispered as George began stroking the soft flesh, eliciting a moan as he nipped at his neck.

"You're beautiful." George murmured.

"As are you," Rory breathed as he circled behind the younger wizard, kissing the back of his neck while his hands slipped beneath his long flowing white shirt; along his chest…and George leaned into warmth as hands teased against his hips. "Is this what you want?"

George fought the notion to turn around, to face Rory as hands dropped downward and raked across his erection; and he involuntarily pushed against warm hands as his own fingers clenched Rory's hips…and drew him into his backside. "…Yes…"

A rush of magic swept over them, "Are ya sure?" Rory breathed against his ear as he began massaging the heated flesh.

"That…feels so good…."

"Aye, luv…" Came his throaty response, "But I wanna be sure."

George's head fell back into Rory's shoulder, as he capitulated to his body's desires, "I want you."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva could feel her pulse rate increasing as the seconds drug on, but it was competing against her fatigue…which…suddenly seemed to have seeped into every pour. And only minutes later, Hermione noticed that Minerva had fallen asleep. She didn't stop massaging her foot, wanting to make sure that Minerva was indeed asleep and not still drifting off. And…she watched as the muscles in her face continued to relax, lips gently parting…and then a soft moan leave her throat as she pressed the tight tendon in her arch; her response no longer hidden behind the woman's normally stalwart mask. She continued to knead the area with great tenderness, watching the woman's involuntarily response to know if she was easing the pain; and slowly…it began to give…and relax, Minerva's body shifting…and Hermione found her movements stopping as her eyes became riveted upon the elegant lines of Minerva's face.

She found herself truly memorized by the cut of her jaw, the rose hue of her lips, the long lines of her neck…the way her black hair framed her milky skin; and she felt a weight settle upon her chest as a fire suddenly ignited in the pit of her stomach as she realized a startling truth.

_She found Minerva McGonagall…attractive, exceedingly so._

* * *

Xoox

* * *

_A/N: I do hope no one has lost interest; and that you are still enjoying the tale! No promises, but I am going to try and post something next weekend as I'll be on vacation for the following 2 weeks without a computer. So…if not…then I'll see ya all in a month.  
_


	53. Chapter 50 December 4th, 2009

**Chapter 50 ~ December 4****th****, 2009 (Friday)**

Minerva rolled her head to the side, try to stretch the muscles in her neck; as she sat fully upright, cringing from the lancing pain in her back and hip. Her right hand was already rubbing her neck; hoping it would lessen as she realized that the cause of her discomfort had been due to where she had dozed off at, her living room. _Or more precisely, on the chesterfield last evening while Hermione had been massaging my foot. _

_I must have been more tired than I thought, _she mused as she forced herself to stand, an involuntary moan slipping from her lips. _A shower, a long one…should help ease my back._ She pushed open her bedroom door, the sconces coming to life and her eyes found blue ones, almost the next moment.

"Why didn't you come to bed?"

Minerva bit back a caustic retort, as she continued walking towards her wardrobe. "I happened to fall asleep upon the chesterfield."

"But surely you awoke before now."

"No." She eyed the clock, noting it was shortly after 3. "I did not." She pulled a fresh set of clothes out.

"And how did your lessons go last evening?" He asked, voice sounding sincere but Minerva could feel a hint of jealousy reverberate through their bond.

"We worked on fluidity through dance," She paused, meeting his gaze with her own. "Let it go Albus."

"I have." He stated sincerely, "I trust you and our love."

"I know." She whispered, feeling a marginal weight settle upon her soul at his remark; because while she did too…it was becoming harder and harder not to notice and spend time with a certain brown eyed witch. "And I love you."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Feather light touches grazed across his back, bringing a semblance of consciousness to his world; muscles aching…and then he felt hands begin massaging his lower back…down his cheeks…a moan erupting from his lips as legs pressed against his own…

As hands slipped up his ribs, down his arms…

"I want ta feel ya….luv…" Rory whispered against his ear as he pressed his chest into his back.

"Hmm…" George murmured groggily, relishing the way his body hummed.

"Like…" Rory slid down, fingers tightening along hips; "This."

"Ohh…" A groan spilling from George's lips as his eyes sprung open, passion merging with shock and pleasure as Rory plunged deeper…his hips bucking in response as Rory pressed himself fully into his back. "R..ory."

"…yes, luv…" Came his thick reply.

"Don't…" George felt his own shaft hardening in response as Rory slowly pulled back, "stop…plea…ase." He whispered into the night.

"Aye…" Rory ground his hips forward, "Luv…"

George met his thrust, fingers clutching at the sheets; "Ohh…God…" He murmured feeling his erection tighten… "You feel…" He met the next thrust, throwing his head back, "So good…"

Rory began to quicken his pace…George meeting him thrust for thrust…moans filling the air…as bodies slid against the other…and Rory could sense the frantic movements…feel his own body _want_ to release…but he ground their movement to a halt…a whimper leaving George's throat as he held them still… "Not yet…luv…"

"…I…" George innately tried to rock either forward or back, "…pl…ease…I…" His pulse pounding in his ears; his erection…painfully waiting upon the precipice… "God…Rory…take me…" He cried out, no longer caring if he should feel shame or not for his actions as he tried to buck again…

Rory kissed his neck, "I want to…" His gravelly voice murmured, "I do…" He began to slowly pull out… "But…I wanna feel ya…luv…" He whispered as he painfully pulled himself out from George's warmth, and cast a simple scourgifying charm as he turned George around…to see ice blue eyes staring back…and Rory felt himself shiver at

his young lover's lustful gaze.

Before George spun Rory around, instinct pushing him to do what he could not earlier in the evening…and he grabbed the elder wizard's hips and plunged himself deeply into Rory. "Ohh…" George cried, "Y…es…" The warmth and tightness surrounding his erection sending rivulets of pleasure that he had never experienced before today ripple through him.

"…Ge..orge…" Rory moaned as he reached back, grasping his hips and beginning to grind against him.

"Ro…ry…" George sputtered as he lost himself to the feeling, vaguely aware of how his body was reacting.

The way he thrust into Rory…

The warmth that swallowed him…along with the tightness…

How his hips pressed into him…

How the formation of words beyond grunts and moans were beyond his comprehension…

How Rory's skin felt as it's warmth slid along him…

The way his balls tightened…

The way Rory's hips pushed back…

"Ohhh…." He could feel Rory's muscles flex and his world stopped…as he felt a rush of warmth along his shaft…as his cream coated himself…and he pushed forward once more…body spent…"I love you…" He murmured before collapsing atop his lover; exhausted.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione blinked again as Milksy touched her leg, "Miss Hermione's, you is in the same clothes as yesterday, you is needing to change."

"I…" She finally glanced downward to see her young house elf, "Was just about to." She stated, beginning to realize that it was indeed morning; and that while she hadn't slept a wink last night, _her thoughts had been on other things, rather one particular thing…person…_she finally corrected herself; _as it just wasn't any person, that is where the problem…many problems…inherently lay. Because…she…was the Headmistress of Hogwarts, her boss…mentor…friend…and how could she suddenly find 'her' attractive._

Hermione sighed as she amended another phrase, _because she didn't 'just' find Minerva attractive; that was the problem. She should have seen it coming…seen it for what it was; it had started as far back as…_

"You'se clothes." Milksy prompted again.

"Right." Hermione absently stood up and strode forward, _When really? When had she noticed Minerva…or rather her beauty? Because she had always noticed Minerva…how could you not? She 'was' one of the premier witches in Britain, Europe…not that 'that' mattered…_

"Robe." Milksy rang out and Hermione obliged as she unfastened her outer robe.

_But in a way it did…as Marx had remarked this past week regarding her beauty; and how he believed she often hid it and for whatever reason last week they were given the opportunity to bear witness. Much like her varying degrees of friendship and how much she permits a person to see about her…_

_ Was that it? Was that the reason she found Minerva attractive, because she had begun to see Minerva for who she was? And…how the elegance…  
_

"I'se need you to change the inner ones too."

_Or perhaps the unending heart that so few saw is what attracted her? _She thought as she peeled off another layer. _Or…was it none of the above and she had always been attracted on some level? Because…_Hermione slipped off her shoes, _at my birthday I was worried about Minerva attending…being behind the door…_

She walked towards the shower, banishing the last of her clothes as she turned on the water. "Bonnie's be here in five minutes."

"Thank you."

_No, it was before that._ She recalled waking up in a blue nightgown…and wondering why Minerva would choose that, she lathered up her skin. _And possibly before I came here to teach_, she rinsed off the soap; enjoying the way the warm water felt as it ran down her face.

She turned off the water, grabbing the towel…recalling an evening at the Ministry shortly after Rose's first birthday. _The way the gown had clung to her skin, how her lilt had rumbled across the space and…how…_

"Hermione, are you ready to begin your lesson?"

Hermione stopped in front of the mirror, inwardly cringing as she took in her own reflection and saw her shoulders sink as she realized that she had forgotten to wash her hair...in addition to the drawn face and circles beneath her eyes. "Just bloody great." She muttered.

"Hermione?" Bonnie knocked on the door.

"One minute." She cast a glance back to the shower, and audibly sighed. _Perhaps a braid today?_ She wandlessly flicked her wrist; her hair falling into place as her skin dried.

_ Today is going to be a long day,_ Hermione mused trying to remain focused as she summoned her delicates and inner robes.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Rory strode into Weasley's Wheezies, causing Percy to jump out from the office already yelling.

"I'm sorry, we're closed…"

"Aye," Rory stepped around the corner and fully into his way, "I came by ta let ya know that your brother willna be in today."

Percy's face dropped, "Is he alright?"

"Aye…"

"He said he had to take care of something for McGonagall…"

"Aye…"

"But he wouldn't tell me…"

Rory fought down a smile at the family's obvious talking trait, no wonder why they did so well in peddling wares. "If ya 're done, I'll be tellin' ya his message."

"Ohhh…" Percy stated somewhat shocked at Rory's brusqueness. "Of course."

"He asked fur ya ta watch the stor' for the next week. And that ya'd know mor' tomorrow afta the meetin'."

"But he is alright?"

"Aye, I believe ya'll be seein' him on the morrow."

"Then why didn't he just send me a message or ask me himself?"

"Don't know." Rory stated, looking perplexed as well, "He asked me ta relay it last night after dropping off a letter from Minerva."

"Do you know what else she asked him to do?"

"No," He honestly replied, "I dunno."

Percy sighed, "At least he's alright, and I guess I'll get more information tomorrow."

"Aye, I believe we all will." Rory confirmed, "And I'll see ya then, have some things to be takin' care of." He didn't wait for Percy to respond, as he _did_ have a few things to do before too much longer; as George would be awake soon, and…he desperately _wanted_ to be there for that.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Hermione…" Aurora gently touched Hermione's arm, "Are you alright? You have barely touched your food."

"I didn't sleep too well last night," Hermione truthfully answered.

"Holiday blues?" She inquired, knowing that often times new professors have difficulty adjusting to not being home for the bulk of the Holidays including preparing for them; which typically started around the first of December.

"No, rather just a recent epiphany."

"Ohhhh…" Aurora truly looked curious. "Care to share?"

"Not right now," Hermione stated, purposefully trying to keep her gaze away from the center of the table, but…her willpower faltered as brown eyes caught a glimpse of emerald; and she found herself gazing down the table. "I'm still trying to sort it." She heard herself saying as her eyes momentarily feasted upon Minerva; cataloguing the lack of circles that had been there last evening clear as Sybil's crystal ball, least the grim was coming.

"You know my door is always open, if you need to talk about it."

"Yeah…" Minerva's head shifted up, and Hermione adverted her gaze. "I appreciate the offer, and if I do…" She forced a smile upon her lips, "I'll let you know."

Aurora gently patted her arm, "Well, darling, the door is open. So don't hesitate." She turned back to her breakfast, "And…whatever the reason, whether lack of sleep or just needed to do something quick; I like what you did with your hair."

Hermione bit back the laugh at how ironical Aurora's statement was, "Was a bit pressed for time."

"Ingenuity is often breed by necessity." Aurora poured herself another cup of coffee.

"Apparently fatigue and lack of time worked today."

"Yes it did." Marx chimed in as he cut his scone. "And I agree with Aurora, it's rather fetching."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Exasperated, Minerva shoved volumes of books away from her, several of the leather tombs falling carelessly to the floor as she jerked into a standing position. "Damn it!" She snapped, palms upon the table, wisps of hair falling around her face as she gazed menacingly down upon the parchments, texts, and journals.

"You'll find it, dear; just calm down." Albus cooed and visibly winced as he felt her irritation and anger pulse across their bond.

"Calm down!" She snapped, picking up a handful of papers and a thin journal. "I'll be dead in just under 3 months, according to Adam's calculations and you want me to…calm down!" Several of the portraits winced at the shrillness abnormally coating her lilt.

"We both knew that this day would come, love." Came his disturbingly serene reply.

"Yes, _we_ did!" She retorted, "And for the past thirteen years, death has been waiting and now…after all that time; it has finally decided to make its fatal call when we can least afford it to!"

"Death rarely comes when we _want _it to."

"Don't you think I, above most, realize that?"

Albus idly noticed that Severus vacated his portrait beneath him, as Minerva's wrath turned towards him…and he found her stubbornness regarding this topic, grating. Irritatingly so. "That is not what I was insinuating my dear."

"Oh really, and what _are _you stating? That I have to just accept my death, and in doing so, the death of so many of our family? Friends? And if that is the case, what has been the point of the last 87 years? Of our marriage?"

"Fate rarely works the way we want it to love, as you are well aware. And you know that Harold or Rory, even Tessa or Hermione have the skills to beat Johannes."

"He is not as he once was."

"You have to have faith."

"I do." She stated, "But that won't beat him, Albus."

"If you can beat him with the little magic you have left, surely one of them could best him."

"It's not the magic that frightens me, rather his knowledge."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"I am sure you do, because you remember him as he was and not as he is. And thirteen years have past since your last interaction with him."

"Past typically predicts…"

"He was an avid reader, Albus." She interjected.

"But after Esmerele's death, he no longer had our collection to read from."

"And for eight years he did."

"He…"

"Enough!" She yelled, "He is a threat that unless stopped, will kill our children and grandchildren Albus. What part of that do you **not** understand?"

"That is not his primary focus."

Her lips thinned at his comment, "No it is not." She grudgingly consented, "However, if he obtains immortality, it will be a bi-product."

"He will not achieve immortality." Albus' voice held a degree of strange certainty.

"And you didn't think you'd die that night." Minerva's rebuke causing the portraits to stop breathing.

"We knew there was the possibility."

"No," Minerva leaned forward, "_We _did not. Rather the following year…"

"This is not the time, my dear."

"You have to trust me, Albus; Johannes is within reach of his goal and he has the skill to obtain it."

"Minerva…"

She pulled her magic and bond to her; his eyes widening…

"Do not…" But then he felt their bond and tendrils of magic, her presence coating him…and then a rush as memories poured through him of Johannes.

He could see and feel the afternoon at the Alley…

The evening in London…Madrid…

And the memories were ripped away in a rush of pain through his soul, her fatigue pulsing so intensely that he could not summon the energy to gaze upon his wife to see if she was indeed alright as his own body slumped within the chair, exhausted.

"Albus!" Dilys cried out.

"Wake up!" The room chorused, eyes split between watching Minerva and Albus; neither one moving. As one, they switched focus; "Elgin!"

He immediately appeared, and Dilys voice directed him. "She did something with their bond, Elgin; and he is unresponsive as is she."

Elgin barely cast a glance at his master, his focus solely upon his mistress, "Minerva…" He quietly breathed as he knelt beside her a shaky hand reaching outwards and stopped just before touching her skin as he noticed the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He heard several breaths of relief as they too must have seen what he had.

* * *

oxox

* * *

A moan slipped from George's lips as he finally stirred to the realm of consciousness, body sore…and he couldn't be sure that last night _had_ truly happened as he cracked open his eyes. And felt his body stir at the mere notion that _it_ had, taking in the deep navy and linen yellow décor that was so dissimilar and yet comforting than his own.

"Good morning, luv." Rory stated, committing the wondrous image of watching George stir in _his_ bed.

George tipped his head to the voice, rolling partially over onto his side to see Rory sitting in a chair, watching him. "Enjoying yourself?" George quipped.

"Quite." Rory leaned forward, "But neigh as much as last evenin'. And you?"

Just the thought of last night caused George to shift his lower body, his loins already reacting to the burr in Rory's voice. "A bit…tired, but…last night was _rather _memorable." He narrowed his eyes as he glanced to the window, "What time is it? Just after seven?"

"You're in the highlands, luv." He nodded to the window, "It t'is almost nine."

"What?" George flung the sheet off himself, jumping up off the bed only to feel Rory's clothes rustle along his skin as an arm grasped his and spun him around. "I have to go, the shop…"

"Already taken care of." Rory murmured, "Been ta London…"

"What do you mean, you've been to London?" George questioned, feeling his body responding to Rory's closeness; his musky odor.

"Had ta git somethin' this mornin'." Sure hands ran down George's side, "And spoke with Percy while I twas there." Cupping his hips, "Explained that you were workin' on somethin' for Minerva and wouldna be in the shop for the next several days."

"How could you tell him that?" George's irritation clearly evident in his voice, "I need to be…"

"Workin' on your father's campaign." Rory easily rebuked, knowing full well that his young lover would be upset with his actions; but he had already crafted a strategy on how he was going to _appease_ him. "Which ya canna do while at your shop."

George's breathing caught as Rory's fingers shifted, grazing across the top of him. "No, I cannot."

"And I thought I could help ya," Rory kissed the side of his neck, as he continued to lightly massage the top of his pubic bone. "After breakfast."

"Breakfast?" George croaked, head innately falling back as his hips lurched forward. "Perhaps it could wait…" He moaned as his hand slid down him.

"Aye," Rory murmured, "It could." He watched as George's blue eyes began to turn pale…as his shaft tightened against his palm. "But I do nah wanna pressure ya." He let his hand trail to the end of the hardening member, thumb flicking across the tip; relishing the way George responded to his touch, hips jerking as blue eyes drifted close and a moan slipped from his depths.

"No…pressure." George ground out, "I just…can't believe…ohhh…God, Rory…" He whispered as a wet warmth touched his tip. "Yes…please…ohh…" He rolled his head back as Rory's tongue slid up and down across him, not taking him into his warmth. "Ohh…you talked to Percy…"

"Aye…" Rory swirled his tongue across George's end, tugging. "I did."

"You can't…oahhhh…yes…" George moaned, rocking his hips; "Please…Rory…" He reached down…fingers immersing themselves into his hair. "I…hmmm…am…so…ohhhhhh…ready…"

Rory sucked and nipped, teasing…not taking more than the tip of his pulsing shaft into his mouth. "I know…" He remarked, hands beginning to stroke the tightening sacs. "But…I'm not."

"Ple…ase….Rory…" His hips began to move forward... "Ple…" The rest of his words drifted off into a deep guttural moan as Rory encompassed him, completely.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"The Headmistress can." Came the resolute voice across her classmates chatter, all eyes turning around to the second year Gryffindor; Samantha Meaur.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, with Helena's granddaughter, "She is a registered cat animagus."

"But why register?" Young Mr. Elcks asked, before finishing his thought aloud. "I think it would be better to not tell the Ministry so people don't know you're an animagus."

"Does anyone know why we register animagus?" Hermione asked, the second year class; hoping that _someone_ had read the material they were covering. Hermione was not at all surprised with Samantha raised her hand, again. She was sure that the young woman had asked Minerva herself at some point in her youth. "Miss Meaur."

"To prevent someone from inadvertently using their skills to harm another."

"Excellent answer, five points to Gryffindor." Hermione gave a slight smile to the young witch, "Anyone else?" Silence reigned amongst the students and Hermione expanded upon Samantha's answer. "There is the safety aspect, but also, what happens if the Headmistress became her animagus but was then unable to return to a human form."

Mark Jenkins shook his head, "Never happen. The Headmistress is too strong of a witch."

Hermione fought to keep the surprise from her face at the young Slytherin's remark. As it seemed that she had even managed to impress the unimpressible house. "It has nothing to do with one's magical prowess Mr. Jenkins; as even she could be struck with a spell to temporarily or permanently force her to remain in her animagus state." His hand went up, and Hermione nodded. "Yes, Mr. Jenkins?"

"I agree that she _could _be struck with a spell, but…" He again shook his blond head, "I doubt it; she's far too clever."

_Yes, she is_. Hermione thought, _More clever than anyone truly knows or realizes._

"And that's why she's the Head of Hogwarts." Jenkins voice held a note of pride within it, and in conjunction with the overwhelming rumble of a response from both the Gryffindors and Slytherins, especially the latter, it completely surprised her. Not because they supported her, because when Dumbledore was Headmaster, he was supported by most of the student body; however, not by most of the Slytherins. And from the overwhelming response she just heard, that didn't sound at all like that was the case; quite the opposite really. Which, considering the growing ill-climate in the wizarding world, it heartened Hermione…in that there could be unity.

"We are not here to speculate as to why Professor McGonagall is the Headmistress." Hermione stated, reigning the classes attention back to the lesson. "Rather the ability to transfigure a living animal into another living animal; and how this skill later becomes the basis for animagus training." Hermione inwardly sighed as Samantha's hand shot into the air. "Miss Meaur."

"Why aren't you an animagus?"

Outwardly, her face remained a picture of tranquility; however, the question sent her mind reeling. _Of course she had once fancied the notion of becoming an animagus like Minerva. Who wouldn't? Especially seeing that as a first year; on the first day of class…it had left an un-mistakenable impression upon her; because…her world until two weeks before she started at Hogwarts had been the narrow scope and viewpoint of the muggles' life._

_ Then came Hogwarts…and the opportunity at a whole new world filled with possibilities; one she completely immersed herself in. However as wondrous as the splendor of Diagon Alley was, or the sheer magnitude of Hogwarts from the enchanted ceiling to the talking portraits and even the revered Headmaster…it was Minerva McGonagall's singular spell that forever altered Hermione's perspective on what it 'truly' meant to be a witch. _

_ And that 'she' could accomplish that too._

_ For six years she had tried…and then Dumbledore died, Harry went on his quest and she dutifully followed… and…her world became irrevocably altered from the path she once believed herself to be on. _

_ Before she had realized it, she was married…with child and…_

"While adept at Transfiguration," She forced the rest of the sentence from her lips, knowing that the next part was _anything_ but true. "I never wished to become an animagus."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George wrapped a robe around his body, tying it around his waist; pausing before he followed Rory into his living area. _Last night had been…_he could feel a grin curl the corner of his lips, _nothing short of unexpectedly wonderful._

_ He had wanted to take things slow, especially given how his mum and brother felt about same sex relationships; but Rory…_

_Dear Merlin, Rory…_his brain stopped at his lover's name. _Lover's name…_he repeated, his grin growing. _Lover…_

It was a word that until now had been foreign in his personal vocabulary, but one…he was quickly _loving_ the sound of.

_ And Rory was an excellent lover. One he had only dreamed of encountering._

George ran his hands through his hair, hoping to tame it as he stepped out from the bedroom and felt his heart burst at the bouquets of white roses littering the living room._ Rory was a romantic. _

"Tea or coffee for breakfast?" His deep voice rumbling from the kitchen.

"Coffee." George stated, the fragrance of the roses sweeping over his senses. "The roses are beautiful."

"As are you." Rory came out from the kitchen, two cups poised in his hands. "Here."

"Thank you." George took the proffered cup, "When did you have time to get these?"

"When I went ta London t'day." Rory easily responded, "Saw them, and thought of you."

George openly stared at the Highlander, "Are you always such a romantic?"

"Aye." Rory's thick cadence washing over him, "I am." His brow quirked in a way that reminded him of McG…and he idly wondered if, after a seventy year friendship with someone who had become family, they picked up each other's traits. "But only in private," He paused taking a deep sip, "And ta those I care about."

"I never figured…" George fought down his blush, "You for that."

"Life is too short luv ta not express yourself." A roguish smile light his grey eyes from within, "Is that goin' ta be a problem for ya?"

Blue eyes locked on grey, "No." He took a step closer, "But I warn you," He reached out, trailing fingers along his well defined jaw, "That I too am a romantic despite often being buried beneath the jokester."

"I know." Rory's lips kissed the inside of his wrist, but he continued on at the shock contained within his blue eyes, "You have a caring and kind spirit filled with hope..." He stepped closer, "That's what first drew me ta ya."

George felt his pulse quicken as Rory's body neared his own, "And the second?"

"I willna lie ta ya, George." Rory's cadence rumbled between them, "I did notice the way your robes fell about ya."

"I'm glad." George whispered, "Because I _did_ notice the way your kilt fit you."

"And?" Rory questioned as George's hand fingered the edge of the material in question, pushing it up and letting his fingers graze the warm flesh beneath.

"I love how traditional you are."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione schooled her features as the seventh year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class brought the very topic of her late night ruminations back up for a second time in as many classes. She had known that today was going to be a long day, but…it had gone from long to insurmountable.

Of course, she should have foreseen the possibility. Minerva McGonagall is one of the leading experts in the field of transfiguration, and had published hundreds articles not counting having introduced, researched and verified some of the principles within the field. She had discussed her articles in prior classes…several times throughout the year.

_Just…why did it have to be today?_

"To become a Master in the field, you have to apprentice beneath an existing Master; is Professor McGonagall taking on new apprentices?" Ethan Stark asked.

Hermione found herself mildly flabbergasted at the notion that one of her students was hoping to become Minerva's apprentice. _When would Minerva find the time? Or energy? The woman was stretched beyond thin between running Hogwarts and the threat of Johannes. She wasn't taking care of herself now, how in the world would she take on an apprentice too?_

"I wrote and asked the Transfiguration board if Professor McGonagall was available." Bristal Stevens interjected before Hermione could respond. "They stated that it was unlikely, as she hasn't taken on an apprentice since 1990 and they had not been notified of any alterations."

_1990? Since before she attended Hogwarts…_ Hermione was momentarily stunned, her mind trying to grapple with another minute tidbit regarding Minerva McGonagall.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"And now?" Minerva snapped.

"Albeit more knowledgeable, he remains the same man."

"Did you not see Madrid?"

Blue eyes flashed, "And you had the opportunity to stop him."

Helena cleared her throat, "This is not the time, you both need to rest."

"I opted to save a child's life. And when I saw him again, it was at Diagon Alley and…"

"He could be taken by Rory or Harold." Albus' voice exuded his usual calmness.

"Do you _honestly_ expect me to believe that?" Her lilt cutting across the air.

"Love, you would have beaten him and your magic was just over 60 percent."

"It isna about strength." Her brogue becoming prevalent, indicating to both Albus and Helena how upset she was getting. "But skill."

"Harold has the necessary skill to best him."

"And I am unwilling to risk his life in conjunction with Helena's."

"Dear we are both…"

Minerva cut off Helena's remark, "Alive, and I want you to both remain that way for a very long time. And if Harold tries to take Johannes, you won't remain that way."

"How can you be certain of that? Harold is an expert dualist."

"He is, however, Johannes had access to material that even Harold knows little about."

"Your library." Helena whispered more to herself than aloud.

"But Harold has overseen the Department of Mysteries and…"

"No!" Minerva cried out, "I refuse to entertain the notion unless there are no others! I care about you and Harold far too much, and I am already dying; whereas neither of you are."

"Minerva you are being obtuse." Helena's jaw dropped open at Albus' harsh comment to his wife, her dearest friend; because while Minerva was being stubborn, she was also being a realist. Minerva was dying. There was nothing anyone, not even her and her endless supply of knowledge in the medical profession could do to save Minerva. However, as far as trusting Minerva…she did so without reservation; and that meant her judgment too. Because, she had known her for over seventy-five years; and while they joked about many things…their lives and the lives of their loved ones was never something that either joked about…and if she believed Johannes would kill Harold, Helena believed her. She watched as Minerva's jaw flexed, brow arching and Helena was thankful that her tirade was focused elsewhere. Though, Helena couldn't help but wonder how frequent their disagreements occurred; because when he was alive, they were few and far between…when they did have a hellacious discord, their amorous make-up…helped to assuage any negative feelings…but what in heaven's name did they do now to clear the air, save for another row?

"Kingsley, have you somehow transferred your consciousness into my husband's portrait?"

Helena coughed at the biting retort, _oh…dear._ She thought, wondering how Minerva and Albus would possibly make up after this.

"As you seem less charming, rather insensitive and babbling about as though you've become the baboon that currently holds the distinction of Minister of Magic."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione felt a weight settle upon her shoulders as the last of her students exited the classroom; her day was far from over. She still had another three classes to teach before dinner, but it was where she was supposed to be and who she was spending her evening with that was the source of her dread.

As she would be facing the very person who had incessantly plagued her thoughts since last evening; and whose presence had managed to infiltrate the scant few times when she had the opportunity to distract her ruminations.

A faint knock broke her thoughts; and she turned to see… "Helena?" She innately drifted forward, "What are you doing here?" Brown eyes flickered towards the door and the area that held Minerva's quarters.

"Stopping by to see an old friend." Helena glided in, an air of grace and distinction mixing with her maroon robes as they smartly flowed around her; the door slowly closing behind her as she stepped into the classroom.

"Did something happen?" Hermione couldn't help the worry from lining her voice.

"As usual, she's just been pushing herself a bit too far." Helena paused, eyes momentarily narrowing as if in thought.

"Her hip?"

"No," Helena honestly stated, "Her imprudent nature surfaced, especially after being badgered by her husband."

Hermione frowned, "I don't…"

"She and Albus had a rather fretful discord, and I stopped by to make sure she was alright."

"And you are telling me this, why?" Hermione inquired, knowing that Helena would not breach Minerva's trust without cause.

"Because…" Helena's voice died away as she recalled the ferocious words being exchanged between Minerva and Albus…

_"You well know that I never held a desire to become Minister; nor am I being insensitive. I am merely pointing out there are possibilities beyond what has become your narrow scope and vision."_

_ "Narrow…" A rose hue graced her cheeks, "Is what 'your' view was with Harry."_

_ He pulled his glasses from his crooked nose, "To permit too many persons to know of my plans with Voldemort about…"_

_ "Your bloody plans! Not ours, but yours. Do ya not even hear what ya are sayin'? And ya call me narrow!"_

_ "They were OUR plans, we discussed…"_

_ "Rather dictated. I don't recall it being much of a discussion that summer!"_

_ "You suggest that I work with Harry."_

_ "Aye, ta work with."_

_ …_

Helena blinked, forcing the conversation that she never should have been privy to away; as the conversation continued to falter as their discord grew. "I was hoping you might have a minute to check upon her later." Helena drew her gaze back to the startled younger woman. "As I have a benefit this evening that I am unable to escape from."

"You said she had an argument with Dumbledore," Helena nodded…and inwardly realized her faux pas. "How's that possible, unless it was with his portrait?"

"It was." Helena hurriedly stated, hoping that Hermione's sharp mind didn't piece together the obscure clues with the large morsel she had just dropped unbeknownst in her lap. "Seems there was an unresolved issue regarding Harry and scope of his plans from the Dark Lord's days."

There was a knock, and the two women glanced to the door. "I was supposed to see her for another lesson this evening."

"She has left Hogwarts for the afternoon, and from her sour mood upon leaving;" _Along with Albus'_, "I doubt she'll be back until breakfast tomorrow."

"I'll check on her after dinner." Hermione found herself saying without prompting or effort.

"Thank you." Helena moved towards the window, "And if she gives you a hard time, tell her I sent you."

Hermione went to ask what in Merlin's beard she meant by that, but…a red tailed hawk glided out through the window as the door to her classroom opened; and was reminded again…that she was not animagus.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No, Bonnie." Minerva handed the letter to the elder house elf, "I have no inclination nor desire to go to the Ridge this evening."

"Master Albus has requested your presence." Bonnie swallowed, wishing she knew what to do for the Mistress and Master to ease the growing divide.

"No doubt." She retorted, "However, barring his ability to stride from the canvas himself; he will have to wait as I am in no mood to see him."

Bonnie tried once more, "He stated it was most important, wishing to offer his profound apologies."

"Tomorrow, Bonnie." Tears obscured her vision, "I will hear his apologies, tomorrow."

"Mistress…"

Startling vibrant green eyes pierced Bonnie's heart, "I cannot…" Her voice trembled, "Not today, Bonnie."

"You know he loves you." Bonnie quietly interjected.

"Aye, and I him." The sincerity ringing from Minerva's voice, "But…we had a frightful quarrel that spanned the whole of the morning until I arrived this afternoon. I feel his sorrow and regret along with love, but…I just can't talk to him right now." A solitary tear slipped off her lashes, "Things were said on both sides that require cooler heads, much cooler heads before meeting again."

Bonnie nodded, needing no further encouragement as she had known Minerva since her birth, and her allegiance lay with the Mistress; not the Master. Though, she was sure, the Master would take ill to the response, as would Elgin. Their respective allegiances often putting them at odds with other when a discord would erupt between Albus and Minerva. "Are you taking dinner here?"

"That would be most kind, and if it is not too much trouble, prepare my room."

"Then you mean not to return to Hogwarts this evening?"

"No," Minerva answered without hesitation, "I shall be remaining here. Please deliver the letter before dinner to Hermione."

"At once." Bonnie vanished and reappeared in Hermione's rooms. "Milksy." She called out; the young house elf materialized in front of her.

"Miss Bonnie, what is you doing here?"

"Please deliver this to Hermione." She extended her hand out, "It is from the Mistress and of most importance."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione lifted her gaze, immediately noticing the rolled parchment now resting beside her left hand. Her eyes scanned the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins; all of whom were busy copying their notes before the practical part of the lesson.

Momentarily assured that her students were occupied, the edge of her nail slitting the wax seal.

_Hermione, _

_ I will not be able to attend this evening's lesson, however, please be assured that it has nothing to do with the events of last night. Thanks to your care, there is little bruising upon my foot._

_ It would be assistive if you practice with Neville tonight._

_ Minerva_

Hermione's grasped a piece of parchment, scribbling a note to Neville and asking for his assistance for an hour; less he could stand two after dinner. Then, she'd go to the Manor…to see how Minerva was faring.

Despite having an innate desire to end this class and dart off to the Manor to see her at once.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"I still don't understand why she conducted the interview with the Prophet." George took a hearty swallow of mead; "It's only a matter of time before there is a recall election."

"She has her reasons." Rory finished cutting his steak.

"But why expedite it?" He shook his head, "Her resources are stretched, why not keep her focus upon Harkiss?"

"Her movements are being tracked by the Unspeakable division, and I am sure that has hindered her movement and response ta Johannes."

"There is more, isn't there?" George narrowed his eyes, leaning forward, forearms on the table. "That's why you and she had a disagreement about Aegis."

"Aye, George." Rory grasped his own drink, "There is, but I am goin' ta ask ya not ta inquire." A solemn expression washed over rugged features, "And ta trust me."

"What is it, Rory?" George easily read the sorrow in grey eyes, "What's going on with McG that you aren't telling me? Or anyone for that matter?"

"I canna say, luv. So, please, do na ask me again." Rory's fingers tightened his grip on his glass.

"Rory…"

"Don't." Rory interrupted, "I luv ya." His eyes burrowing into blue ones, "I truly do. I have na felt like this since Derrick died; but this…" He pointed to the two of them, "Is second ta Minerva, George. I've known her for eighty-two years; we met when I was six and she was five. She's my sister; and I will let ya know what I can, but some of it…will be off limits, luv. And for that, I am incredibly sorry; and I hope ya will understand because…" The tenor of his voice broke, "I do na wanna lose ya."

"It isn't about you making a choice," George laced his fingers through Rory's, "I understand that you and McG are family; probably even closer than my family. I just want to be here for you…" He squeezed his fingers, "Both of you. Because…from the look in your eyes, your actions…and her irregular actions; it doesn't add up. Unless…" He gasped, and went to withdraw his hand, but Rory's grasped his in return…their eyes locking, "Last night, when you thought I was her…you stated that you didn't care if she was d…" The word died upon his lips as he stared wide eyed at his lover, disbelieving. "Tell me, that I'm wrong."

"Ya aren't." Rory whispered in a choked voice, and teary eyes.

"How long?"

"Not long." He swallowed, "But no one knows save for her family, nor can they know."

"Rory…"

"It's her wish, George. And, I will abide by it." Grey eyes stilled his breathing, "As will you."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione paused outside the gates, eyes taking in the splendor of McGonagall Manor; the effervescent light spilling across the brown grass with snow sprinkled across it as she took in a deep breath of the cold crisp air.

It was beautiful. Just like…its owner.

Hugging her cloak tighter against her frame, she quickly crossed the front lawns of the property; the brittle snow crunching beneath her feet. She raised her hand, and before she could knock upon the door…it opened to reveal Bonnie staring up at her in a pressed white wool shirt and a tartan skirt.

"Miss Hermione, this is unexpected."

"Do you mind if I come in?"

Bonnie opened the door, "Mistress is upstairs, in the library."

Hermione nodded, "How is she?" She slipped off her cloak and hung it upon the hook. "Helena asked me to stop by."

"She has been reading all afternoon between her correspondence."

"Thank you, Bonnie."

"Would you like some tea, shortly?"

"Perhaps a glass of whisky."

"Very well." She stated, and watched as Hermione began ascending the stairs to the den as a coy smile curled the tip of Bonnie's lips, as she whispered. "It seems as though you are acquiring the Mistress' tastes."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harold gently rubbed his hand along the smooth skin of her back, "They've had arguments before."

"I know." Helena shifted her head, letting it fall completely upon his shoulder. "And perhaps its because I haven't seen one in years."

He shifted, kissing the top of her head. "She'll be fine." He murmured into her hair so as to muffle their conversation as Mitchell and Dawn Stanley neared them.

"I hope so." Helena straightened her back, forcing a smile upon her face as a resounding pulse of love swelled from within, Harold letting her know that he was there for her. "Dawn," She extended her hand outward, "You look lovely." She clasped her husband's hand, "And Mitchell, I am so happy both of you could come."

"Thank you for the invite," Dawn began and Helena inwardly sighed wishing she could check upon Minerva; but resigned herself to her obligation. Eternally thankful that Harold was there beside her; his hand firmly wrapped around her waist…giving both physical and emotional comfort…as she smiled, and mingled with some of St. Mungos largest benefactors. Wishing, the hospitals greatest benefactor was here this evening…so she could make sure her friend was alright.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione stopped for a moment, eyes sweeping over her open and unguarded visage as the fire crackled behind her. Even from this distance, she could see the redness that lined her eyes and the dark circles beneath; but that was not as disconcerting as her lack of overall presence…that always filled the room. She seemed, small; disheartened…shoulders sagging; a veritable pebble amongst the sand versus the very shore.

"Good evening." Hermione broke the stillness, knowing that if she had waited too long Minerva would have known she was there. At once, her elegant head tipped up; an imperceptible glamour charm instantly descending upon her face at the unexpected intrusion before a soft smile crinkled the corners along her eyes.

"Hermione," She absently placed a bookmark within the center and closed the book, eyes remaining upon the younger woman. "This is a surprise." A wave of concern swept through her, "Everything is alright at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, save for Neville's feet." Hermione remarked, drawing a light chuckle from Minerva.

"Speaking from experience, he'll be fine." Her voice still light as she motioned to the chair opposite. "Please, have a seat."

"I…don't want to intrude." Hermione stated as she sat down, "I merely…" Brown eyes fixed upon unusually dull green, and she cleared her throat; and started over. "Helena was worried and asked…"

"That you check on me." Minerva finished her sentence, "As she is at St. Mungos holding a benefactor dinner."

"Yes, she is. And how is that you know that? Is there a spell that enables you both to know the other's activities all the time? It's uncanny."

Minerva was too tired to obfuscate, "No spell, just close friends. And, I was supposed to attend, but opted for an evening of solitude."

"Why?" Hermione shifted in her seat, as she crossed her legs at the ankle, "I would have thought you'd enjoy spending time with Helena."

"Helena and Harold; but not the drudgery that typically attends as I would be forced to spend time talking with everyone there due to my position at Hogwarts."

"Politics."

"Quite," A note of disdain lacing her voice, "And no dancing, unless I could coerce Harold onto the floor."

"He doesn't like to dance? I'd have thought being married to Helena, that he'd love it."

"Love is a bit of a stretch for either of them."

"Well after last evening, I would definitely not be a first choice for anyone's partner." A light crease furloughed between her brows, "Speaking of, last night you had asked to meet and conduct a training for this evening. You weren't planning on going to the dinner…"

There were times that Minerva loved Hermione's brilliant mind; and then there were times that she didn't. Tonight…happened to be the latter, because unlike most days; when she'd merely sidestep the issue and move on, tonight she didn't have it in her. "No I had not; I would have sent my apologies late in the afternoon to Helena that I would not be attending."

"So she thinks your lack of attending has to do with this afternoon, and it doesn't; does it?"

Minerva let her gaze drift from Hermione's, to the fire…thoughts upon another time, and she let the harrowing truth spill from her lips. "No, it does not. As I have to attend so many functions due to being the Headmistress; and in truth…" Her lilt cracked through her cadence, "I have long since grown tired of attending them alone."

Hermione could feel her jaw slacken at Minerva's startling revelation and found herself, momentarily at a loss for words. How do you offer comfort to a woman…who is the bedrock of wizarding world? Seemingly…un-fazed as the world rested its fate upon her and Dumbledore's shoulders; and then just hers. And yet, to discover; that the truth is far from what is perceived… "Why…" Hermione quietly stumbled onward, acutely aware of how sensitive the topic was. "Not ask Rory or Filius?"

"On occasion I have asked each, along with a few others." Minerva adverted her gaze to the fire as she finished, "However, there are times that it is inappropriate for them to attend."

Hermione felt her heart pull at the trodden expression lining her face, and she innately knew that part of the cause stemmed from her discord with Dumbledore's portrait earlier in the day. "You really miss him, don't you?"

Minerva lifted her gaze, a question in her eyes as she had barely heard Hermione's soft question.

"Albus." Hermione went to elaborate, but Minerva's cadence was already answering.

"I miss his solidarity; his steadfast presence; his comfort."

"Yet, he was not able to offer any of those while you both attended functions as he was the Headmaster and you, his Deputy."

"It might seem that way to you;" Minerva stated, "But, to us…it was not."

"I didn't mean…"

A gentleness befell Minerva's eyes, "I know. And from the outside, it would appear as though our love only existed along the shadows; when in fact it was the very light of our world. Much like Ronald was to you for a time."

"I don't think…" Hermione paused, for speaking of her own failed marriage still held many tendrils of ill feelings and heart ache. "I would have ever described Ron as the light of my world, he perhaps would have of me." Her comment caused a light crease to form across Minerva's brow. "It's not that we didn't love each other; but from your words and tone you describe Albus…as your soul mate."

Minerva felt drawn to answer her, honestly. "I believed he was." Minerva's contralto barely louder than the fire; because even a month ago…she still believed with conviction that he was. But her certainty had been replaced with a seed of doubt…as her feelings for the woman opposite seemed to be taking root despite every effort on her part to deter them. Quelling her musing, she diverted the conversation back to Hermione…sensing her unease regarding a topic that had remained foreign between them. "And Ron…was not yours?"

Hermione was still recoiling from Minerva's response, that she was utterly thunderstruck by the question poised to her and stammered a far too honest response. "I…ahhh…no, he was not." She shifted under the intense, yet warm emerald gaze as she expanded on her answer. "It was a love that spawned from our mutual friendship to Harry." She inwardly scoffed at how simplistic it all seemed now. "We became swept up in the fervor, both having been through so much, and he proposed. I accepted. And...the friendship that was the basis of our love began to become strained by the time we married."

"I don't recall there being a long engagement." Minerva recalled the lively engagement party followed almost immediately by the late fall wedding; the flowing ivory robes accented by lavender.

"No. We were engaged for four months, and got married after I returned from Australia."

"From retrieving your parents." Minerva vaguely remembered tattered bits of conversation shortly after Voldemort's death and the funerals. Hermione had come to speak with her regarding her parents' whereabouts; and the identity she had crafted for them.

"Yes." Hermione affirmed, as she pieced together the time frames and what had been going on in Minerva's life amidst her own crises. "You don't remember too much, do you?"

Minerva reached forward, a pair of glasses appearing beside the decanter. "No, I have to admit; the summer was a blur." She poured herself a glass, and then glanced up to Hermione who gave a brief nod, and she proceeded to pour a second glass. "With Voldemort's passing, along with Severus', the funerals, the trials, rebuilding Hogwarts…" She handed Hermione a glass, "While I tried to salvage what was left of my own family." Fingers numbly wrapped around the tumbler, as her eyes re-focused upon brown ones. "I do, however, recall that you were a stunning bride; unless there is another woman who was wearing a flowing, beautiful ivory robe with lavender accents."

Hermione set her glass down, "Thank you." She quietly stated, "For helping me with my parents."

Minerva took a hearty swallow of whisky, before answering. "You're welcome."

"I had no idea…" Hermione shifted forward, bringing her marginally closer to Minerva. "That you had just lost not only your husband, but your daughter too."

"Very few people did." Minerva tried to tamp down the memory.

"After everything you had lived through that summer, why did you agree to help me?" Curiosity burned in her breast at exactly what the woman opposite had agreed to do, despite what had happened to her not even a month before. "Why not send me a letter back with your apologies and well wishes?"

Minerva's eyes fell away as tears flooded her vision. "It was a long time ago, Hermione."

Memories coalesced with recent information, "I had gone to Hogwarts, to speak with you and Filius had stated that you were in the Highlands and would not be returning until a week before session. It was the end of July and I sent you a letter…"

"Which…I received." Her cadence faltering, as she forced her gaze back to meet brown eyes. "And subsequently met you in Edinburgh."

"You still didn't answer why."

Minerva's emerald eyes remained locked for several heartbeats as she sought for a truthful, yet partial answer. However, none came to mind. As she was too tired…from the months of strain and to emotionally exhausted from her continual verbal sparring with Albus. Standing, she swept away from Hermione and towards the fireplace, hand resting on the edge of the mantle. Almost immediately, she heard the cushions give way; and knew from the quiet footsteps that Hermione had come closer. Oddly enough, she found it soothing. "I…was not well after Albus died. Emotionally…or physically." She closed her eyes as she recalled the events. "And, despite appearances, I was…having significant problems."

"Was that the night you were injured too?" The quiet tenor of Hermione's voice confirmed Minerva's assessment, Hermione had moved closer. Much closer.

"Yes." Minerva obliquely answered, "And with Albus' funeral, Hogwarts, the children…Helena and I were also trying to discover the extent of my injuries without making them known. Three and a half weeks later, Esmerele was killed." She paused as she willed her daughter's face whispering she loved her out of her mind's eye as blood frothed at her mouth. A gentle hand touched her right shoulder, reassuring her; and instinctively, she reached up and wrapped her left hand atop Hermione's. "We learned that…my injury was fatal and I…cut myself off from the rest of the world." She let go of Hermione's fingers, head dropping farther. "Completely. I…couldn't handle it and didn't want to."

"Minerva…"

"It is hard to explain." She stepped forward and away from Hermione, "But my life had been..." _Ripped apart. How do you tell someone that your lover, husband…mate…who you had been bound to; had been torn away from you, but you could still feel him? Could still talk to him? Could feel his magic pulse with your own? And, in the beginning…still touch him? How do you accept what happened, when in a way it never did; because he still lived inside her? And…she inside him? As, a part of her had died that day; with him. _"Was…irrevocably changed." _And continued to die, slowly…and with each passing day; bit by bit. _"And I withdrew, from even my closest friends and family."

"I couldn't imagine losing my husband of forty years and daughter too within the same month; let alone the knowledge that you had been cursed and would at some point die to. It speaks volumes that you faced all that, and returned to Hogwarts that fall, despite what had transpired and eventually became the Headmistress." Her admiration for Minerva prevalent within her voice.

"Volumes…" Minerva's voice held a hollowness within it, "My dear, it had little to do with me," Her fingers tightened along the mantle as she spoke a long buried truth. "And far more to do with you."

Hermione was flabbergasted, "I don't…" She took a step forward but stopped as Minerva turned around, and she found herself rooted to the floor, motionless. The green of Minerva's eyes looked to be the color of pale spun sea green glass; the only visible sign at how deeply this conversation was affecting her.

"It was your letter. Your heartfelt request that helped to bring me back." She could still feel the weight of the parchment in her hands. The way Hermione's words sparked feelings within her that death had dampened. And later, much later, she felt a measure of guilt that it had been the desperate words of one of her most gifted pupils that had pulled her back from the brink, and not her children, her family or even her best friend that had. "It reminded me…" She felt her eyes inadvertently narrow, as Albus' words and the events of this past year coalesced with forgotten or rather purposefully ignored memories. _The event with Hogwarts the evening Albus died, and the incident with Hermione in the hallway with the Death Eaters. The lancing pain, the energy exchange...the bonding. The bonding._ Her mind reverberated again, _Perhaps made me predisposed to…_

"Minerva, are you alright?" Hermione asked suddenly very concerned.

_Her._ Minerva blinked as the ramifications spun through her consciousness. _As her attraction could be a direct result of the events from thirteen years ago…and her predisposition that she subconsciously felt or had regarding Hermione… _"Yes." She breathed out, suddenly needing a stiff drink. Several of them to be precise. "I'm sorry, I got caught up in memories," She feigned a smile, "As I was saying, your letter helped to remind me of my own youth and desire to save my family; at any cost."

Sincerity emanated from mocha eyes as she spoke, "What you did to help protect my parents, I cannot thank you enough."

"No parent should have to bury a child, and no child…" She stepped beside Hermione, "Should ever have to bury a parent for a death caused from ravages of war."

"I can't imagine."

Green eyes softened, "I'm glad you never had to."

Hermione gave a small nod, "Me too."

Minerva moved back towards the chesterfield, "To friends." She summoned her tumbler into her hand that Bonnie had mysteriously filled. There were time like tonight, she wondered if Bonnie was an angel. "And family."

Following suite, Hermione gripped her glass and nodded to the toast before stepping forward and clinking their tumblers as Hermione silently added, _And to you._

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Two hours later, Minerva watched as Hermione bit back another yawn. "The game can hold until tomorrow or when time in your schedule allows."

Hermione's eyes dropped to the board, "Till tomorrow." She didn't want to postpone, but the alcohol in conjunction with not sleeping last night was having an adverse effect on her ability to remain coherent and awake.

"Perhaps after the Order meeting over a bite of lunch."

"Sounds," Hermione covered her mouth as she yawned again, "Good."

"And it seems you need some sleep."

"I was taking after you." Hermione chided, eyes sweeping once more over the game. She was losing, but there was still a chance for her to win. One she hoped to take advantage of; when she could focus on something other than Minerva's delicate fingers as she moved the chess pieces in between keeping her eyes open.

"Thankfully, no." Minerva gracefully stood, "As you would already be asleep."

Hermione pushed herself upright, "Are you remaining at the Manor this evening?"

"Yes," They fell in step beside each other as they stepped from library and towards the large winding staircase. "I'm not up to facing Albus quite yet."

Hermione turned to Minerva, "What happened between the two of you today?"

"Remnants of an old argument." Minerva carefully replied.

"I don't understand why you let it bother you." Hermione stated as she stepped off the stairs. "I know he was your husband, but…" Concerned brown eyes stared at Minerva, "He is just a portrait." And within a heartbeat, she watched Minerva's relaxed posture and mannerisms dissipate; as her angular jaw tightened and eyes smoldered.

"I am aware." Minerva stated in a strangely dispassionate voice.

Hermione was at a loss as to what she had said to elicit the chilling response that transformed over Minerva, "I didn't mean to offend you."

She clenched her jaw tighter, "I know. However, there are times…" She forced the words out from her throat, "That he seems like so much more."

"I know, but…he's dead, Minerva. And no matter what he says, it is only a shadow of who he once was; a two dimensional representation of a three dimensional man."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: I'd like to take a minute to say thank you to all the kind persons who have read and reviewed. It means a lot to me! And helps to keep me motivated, as we are still not even half way through and I'll admit that…there are times when I think, 'what did I get myself into'. So THANK YOU very much!_

_Also, would like to take a moment to send a plea to a fellow author – who is a wonderful writer for those who enjoy Hermione/Minerva fiction; Owlofathena – and also to help encourage each of you to poke her at least once or twice…for a lovely update. She has an outstanding open story that has left us all salivating for more._

_And, to Xio – while I haven't read any updates to the story recently, due to work, she has developed a wonderful story – Unhappy…I would encourage you all to read (I know, I will when I have time to sit and enjoy!). Normally, I'm not into AU stories; but she is doing a magnificent job in her story arc, with a slow - natural build up between the two characters that the AU aspect falls away. Bravo.  
_

_I hope to have another update in a week and a half; going to try to get back on an every other Friday schedule. (Keep your fingers crossed!) Until then, stay save & be happy & see you all soon! _


	54. Chapter 51 December 5th, 2009

**Chapter 51 ~ December 5****th****, 2010 (Saturday)**

"When do we need to leave?" George asked through his yawn, still exhausted from their amorous activities over the last two days as Rory stirred.

"I will wake ya before needin' ta leave." Rory rumbled into his lover's neck.

"Hmmm…" George murmured body humming as he felt Rory's growing need pressing in his back; his body innately responding despite his fatigue.

"Unless," Rory trailed his hand down George's side, chest. "Ya _feel_ like gettin' up." Stopping along the smooth contours of his hip, before dropping into the swell of ginger hair.

"As you can feel…I already am." George nestled backwards, loving how Rory's cock continued hardening against him as soft lips begin nipping at the short hair's along his neck.

"Aye…" Rory drug his tongue across neck, pressing his hips forward and into George's back as his left hand slowly slid down George's tightening erection. "You are so beautiful, luv." He let his lips trail across the soft skin until he slipped his tongue around his lobe, gently suckling as he rocked his hips again.

George had never imagined feeling so wanton, so powerless and powerful all at once…and as Rory pressed himself against him as his fingers stroked his heated flesh; that's exactly how he felt, and it felt so right. That he couldn't imagine not feeling _this way_ again…and yet… Turning his head, and banishing his own demons, he lifted his left arm, raking it through the silky locks as he pulled Rory's mouth to his. Their lips sliding across the other's…as George moaned and he gave into his body's need and pushed his hips into Rory's hand.

"Yes…luv…" Rory crooned, as he drew back slightly, whispering a spell only to find George's hand gripping his own hip.

"I want…you." George arched forward, "In me…" He breathed out, and then felt a hot burning sensation pulse through him, as Rory entered him. "Ohhhh…yes…" He murmured, pushing backwards…wanting to take more of him in. "Yes. Rory….ohhh… that feels so good."

Rory could feel his own hips jerking forward as George thrust forward, and then back… "Ohhh, George…" He felt his worry about this morning's meeting, about seeing Minerva for the first time since their discord leave him as he began meeting his lover's heady rhythm…no longer able to concentrate on anything else, save for each other as another moan rumbled from the depths of George's chest.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione stilled her fingers and nerves as she reached outward and took the small portkey. After her remark last evening regarding…Albus, Minerva had closed down and become incredibly withdrawn. Yes, they had spoken, even started a game of chess…but the warmth that had been there, from her body language to cadence, had dissipated.

And…she found she missed it.

Hermione cleared her throat and uttered the activating charm, and felt the portkey grasp her navel and then she was gone. The traditional meeting room having been replaced, and Hermione turned about…blinking, knowing the room she was standing as almost everyone else gazed about in wonder. They were at the Manor. McGonagall Manor; and more precisely, in the ballroom, although…long tables had been erected in the center for seating.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked as blue eyes passed around in admiration at the etched glass ceiling and rich wood floor.

"At Minerva's home." Hermione stated, and several surprised faces turned to her.

"Are you sure?" Ginny questioned as she tentatively reached out to touch the long walnut engraved table. "We've been to her home several times and…"

"As with most guests, only receive the cursory tour." Minerva glided through the doors from the hallway, eyes scanning the room and inwardly sighed at not seeing either George or Rory. She had hoped that one would be in attendance so she could ascertain where her relationship stood with Rory. "We are in the ballroom, and of late it has had little use. Though, I hope to rectify that in a few weeks time." She swept forward, hat perched upon her head, discreetly hiding the streak of white, while leaning heavily upon her cane today, "Each of you will be receiving an invitation to a party that I am having for the Holidays."

Both Helena and Harold's eyes lit up, Helena voicing their thoughts. "That is positively delightful news, dear. But…" A look of trepidation passed across her features, "With everything else, the Ministry and Harkiss, are you sure that is wise?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rory knocked on the door, "We need ta be leavin'."

George forced the tears away as he gazed at himself in the mirror, "One minute." He stated, cadence clear and without a hint of worry, heartache or anxiousness that he felt as he splashed a little more water on his face.

He felt…elated when he was with Rory. He had never known that he could feel as he did. And for the last two days…he had let himself believe that…perhaps he could feel this way all the time. That they could find a way to build a life together.

He had never known that being loved…by a man, so tender…and yet forceful…would feel as it did. It had been wonderful. Fulfilling. And…despite what his mother and brother believed, he couldn't imagine being loved any other way.

Or…by any other person, for that matter.

As he was already falling in love with him…and realistically…how could he not?

He loved his accent. His calloused hands…the way his eyes appeared to turn silver when they made love.

But…as much as he cared for him…he couldn't have this life.

His mother would discover it or his brother…and…he couldn't lose either one. No matter how much he cared for Rory. He couldn't choose a man; even one as tender, sensual and loving as Rory, over his family.

At the notion of not having him in his life felt like he was cleaving his heart in two…and left him white knuckled and gasping for breath.

"It'll be alright, luv." Rory whispered from behind as he kissed his neck.

"My mother…and brother…"

"Let us focus on us right now." Rory gently replied as he reached around George's thin frame, hugging him from behind.

"Being up here with you, has been like a dream, Rory. One I pray I never wake from, but…I know that it can't last." He slowly turned around, "I will one day have to leave you and take a wife and have children."

Rory's brow quirked, but responded in a way that befuddled the younger wizard. "Then I shall help you find a woman when it is time, but until then…" He gripped George's hips and brought them closer to his own, "Enjoy the moment."

Sorrowful blue eyes stared into grey ones, "I can't choose you over my family."

"I ne'er asked ya to." Rory breathed, inwardly berating himself for not waiting longer before giving in to his _and _George's desires. He had known that George had felt torn regarding his sexuality and his family. Much like he had in his own youth. At least…until Derrick came along. Then, it was no longer a question of him being attracted to wizards and even acting on it when the occasion warranted…but at that point he knew he'd never take a wife. Because, what he wanted, couldn't be found in the arms of a witch.

He tried once more after meeting the youngest McGonagall, hoping to sink into the beautiful valley of a woman's bosom and her heated center…but those attributes did little for his own desires. And he had only been able to have sex with her…while he pictured himself thrusting headingly into Derrick's backside.

"I care too much to use you…" He murmured as a tear slipped off his lash, as sorrow mixed with shame.

"Perhaps…" Rory's fingers sunk into George's hips, "I am using you." He watched as George's face became disbelieving and he pressed his groin into George's…pinning his muscular form into the wall, as his own body responded to the hardening erection pushing against him.

"Sex won't…" George's words were cut off as Rory's lips covered his own for a long, sensual moment; stealing his very breath as he innately thrust his hips forward…body already humming with need.

"Nah…it won't." Rory nipped at his neck, "But ya have ta realize, my luv…that…" He ripped open the V-neck of his shirt, running his fingers down his chest…and enjoyed feeling George's hardening groin wantonly thrust again. "Even if ya leave me…" He nipped at his breasts, kissing the small nipple until it pebbled in his mouth before standing and grinding his hips into the younger man's, "Ya won't find the comfort ya seek in a woman's touch." Grey met blue, "I know," He breathed out quietly, "I tried."

"As…much as I want to stay…" George's breath caught as sure fingers slipped down the front of his pants. "It won't work."

"Then I'll take…every day…" He kissed his jaw, whispering against heated skin. "Ya give me."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Wise, no." Minerva countered as she pulled out a seat, everyone else joining suite. "However, we have so much to be thankful for and it would be a shame not to celebrate it." Her eyes involuntarily went to Helena and Harold, before sliding momentarily across her children and surprisingly she found her gaze resting upon Hermione's soft features. "Especially at the Holidays."

A chorus of agreements swept across the room, before Tessa spoke up. "And regarding everyone's safety?"

Emerald eyes landed upon her daughter, "Steps are being taken to ensure that everyone attending will be safe."

"Where will you hold the event?" Helena asked, trying to curtail her excitement at the prospect of Minerva having a party.

"Here." Minerva responded, noticing the hint of a smile upon her dearest friend's face.

"It has been quite some time." Filius chimed in, feeling the same giddiness as Helena. "Since you have thrown a party."

"Ball would be more apropos." Helena countered.

Neville perked up, "It'll be like the Ministry function in two weeks?"

At this, Filius, Helena and even Harold laughed. "Minerva's family and for a short while, Minerva used to have marvelous parties at the Manor that make the Ministry's pale in comparison." Harold answered.

Arthur nodded, "I remember my mother talking about the McGonagall's festivities, the gala atmosphere, the food, the music. Why did you stop having them?"

"I got married and opted for a far more private life." She feigned a smile, knowing that Helena and Harold would understand her reasoning, "However, with all the discord and uncertainty, I believe it is time to dust off the Manor and hold a holiday event. One I hope that sees all of you in attendance."

Smiles and nods swept across the room, as Helena pulled a copy of the Daily Prophet from her robes, "Dear, you know I will be in attendance." Her brow arching, "I could never miss one of your family's parties and shan't miss yours either." She laid the Prophet down on the table and collectively the room became dead silent. Some having already seen and read it, others had not opened it and thought that after the Order meeting would be soon enough. However, from the headline, it apparently was not a wise course of action. "That being said, and festivities and frivolities aside." Her face turning grave. "Please tell me what in heaven's name you were thinking?" She flung the paper towards Minerva, "There will be a recall vote within the quarter and he will lose."

"The Minister has ordered a mandatory departmental heads meeting at noon." Harold stated, "And he has already asked me for an update, personally."

"I was rather…shocked to see the article this morning." Pomona stated.

"As was I." Filius agreed.

Tessa curtailed her immediate response, as did Percival; neither one knowing that their mother had it in her to strike back with such – force. "It seemed a bit, uncharacteristic." She finally commented.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked what many of the younger Order members also wished to know.

"I had a rather lengthy article published by Mrs. Peoples in the Prophet, regarding our current Minister of Magic's ineptness."

"In the Prophet?" Hermione, Angelina, Ginny and Neville all gasped aloud.

"If I had known that is why you had me send the note regarding your health to Milan, I never would have consented." Helena's ire with her friend easily palpable.

Minerva didn't bother to answer the younger generation's question, her eyes boring into Helena's. "I _have_ my reasons Helena. And I do thank you for your note."

"Is that an ink smudge?" Ginny asked with a frown curling the corners of her lips as she pulled the Prophet closer; eyes inspecting the bottom right picture of Minerva…and the streak of white through her traditionally dark mane.

"No." Minerva reached up, fighting her own nerves as she carefully removed her hat, "I seemed to have stretched my magic a bit too far the other evening."

Hermione's insatiable curiosity regarding what Minerva had stated to the Prophet was momentarily curtailed as she felt a strong desire to protect Minerva swell in her chest as over half of the occupants gawked at her. And despite Minerva's appearance of self-assuredness; Hermione knew from personal experience that Minerva was self conscious regarding her hair. Wishing she could spare her the momentary feeling of vulnerability…and the pity she'd invariably see reflected back at her in most of the Order's eyes and face.

"Dear heavens is that permanent?" Arthur asked. Molly had stated that Minerva had stopped by and that she had a streak of white in her hair, but he hadn't believed it to be permanent…nor as large.

"It is." Minerva turned to Harold, "As is my desire to see Kingsley removed from office." She watched as his eyes widened, "Please feel free to inform him of that, as I meant everything I stated in the article Harold. I have grown tired of the slanderous remarks, the inability to spend time with family and friends as all of my movements are shadowed, and his meddling creates a greater hindrance than assistance and I mean to end what has become a colossal nuisance with great expediency." Her cadence becoming distant and cold, "I mean to have a recall vote Helena, and you were right, I _could have _waited; but I wish to this entire affair settled before the Holidays."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Adam sealed the letter, his hand shaking as he noted the time. _He was cutting it close._ Standing, he slipped the correspondence atop the packaged parcel and fought off his own wave of nervousness.

"Archimedes my old friend." He gripped the top string holding the bundle, "I believe it would be wise for you to be away today."

The snowy white barn owl softly hooted, causing a gentile smile to curl across his now very thin lips.

"And upon your return, I doubt I shall be here however…there will always be a home for you at Hogwarts."

Mint green eyes blinked and again it quietly replied.

"I will miss you too." He blinked back tears, "But, I have need for you to go." He tied the parcel to his leg and with a muted spell, made the package feather light and six times smaller. "Now, please take that to Griphook."

Archimedes tilted his head and hooted again.

"With haste my friend." Adam responded, and followed up his statement with a series clicks and whistles. At once Archimedes spread his wings and sailed through the window, Adam watching him beginning to fade away into the distance before a disturbance to the south captured his attention…and froze his heart.

They had already arrived.

He felt his stomach twist as fear burst through his system. He didn't know how he'd get through the next two hours.

With feigned ease, he stepped away from the window; eyes taking in the office. He recalled how the fall light used to splay across Victoria's skin, making it appear almost golden.

"I'll be with you soon, love." He whispered to himself as he made his way to the door, wand in hand; about to set off a string of events…that while temporarily avoidable were truly inevitable. It was only a matter of time. Time that…Minerva didn't have. He could only hope that she would live long enough to one day understand his actions today, and why he choose to meet fate here…and now…versus tomorrow or in two months.

"Grant me strength." He whispered as he shakily reached outward, palms sweaty and almost slipping off the door handle as he thrust it open.

Sunlight poured in, momentarily blinding him…but…it didn't matter. He already knew where they were and how they were approaching the property. As he had done countless equations determining the wheres and hows. And so…he pointed his wand to the south, eyes adjusting to the brilliance as he began casting a series of curses towards his soon to be captors…

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione watched as Minerva quickly stood at the end of the meeting, "Ronald, if I could see you for a moment."

All eyes swung to Ron, and he…swallowed. "Ahh…" He stood too, "Sure." Wondering what in Merlin's beard McGonagall wanted with him, alone. He had already said thank you to both her and Helena numerous times...on both his and Harry's behalf. The lucky wanker wouldn't be released from St. Mungos till Tuesday…and was spared today's meeting. Well not the meeting itself…but the damn guilt he felt at seeing the pearly streak of white in the Headmistress' hair; and knowing that his and Harry's actions had been the cause.

Minerva motioned for him to follow her, and she paused as her eyes landed on Hermione. A moment of hesitation clearly written on her face, but it was replaced just as quickly with her contralto voice. "Hermione, if you could join us."

Hermione scanned her features, trying to ascertain what she wished to speak with both she and Ron for…and there was not even an inkling of emotion emanating from her face. Almost as an afterthought, she stood, "Of course."

Trailing both Minerva and Ron; she could feel two dozen eyes on her back as they exited the room and went across the hall to the den. She barely had time to close the door, before Minerva turned around...jaw set and eyes hardened.

"I had the opportunity to speak with your children this week, and was rather dismayed Ronald to learn that while in your company; you ignore your children leaving them to do what they wish with nominal supervision while you spend time with Fresca." Hermione could feel her jaw drop as Minerva continued on. "And they stated this is a usual occurrence when in your care, particularly at quidditch matches."

Before Ron could formulate a response, Hermione lashed out. "I can't believe you blatantly ignored _our_ children while at a quidditch game and who the hell knows what else!"

He hadn't known what to expect, but _this _wasn't it. It was surreal really…Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, one of the most powerful witches in Britain…was lecturing him on how he treated his children. _Lecturing him_…his mind recanted as his blood pressure mounted and anger rose. _She had no right to lecture him regarding his children. They were his… _"Why is she lecturing me…" Ron snapped, irritation evident as he pinned Minerva with a seething glare. "About our children? They are none of her concern…"

Neither Hermione or Ron were prepared for Minerva's reaction…a spell sweeping over his body, immobilizing him…the brewing rage in icy blue eyes masked by a sudden wave of panic as Minerva's clear cadence cut through the still room. "Do not misdirect your anger at being exposed towards me Mr. Weasley. Regarding my involvement, I'm an adult who they trust and while spending time in my care; they insinuated they _want _their father in their life – and I am merely relaying their wishes. How you parent your children is entirely _your _choice; though I'd suggest the simplest of steps first, spending time with them. As they will only be this age once, and you'll never get this time back." Her voice caught as she thought of her own children. "Nor any other." She cast a glance to Hermione, who was staring at her mouth agape, and with a slight nod; she began walking away but paused at the door without looking back. "Can I entrust you to release him before leaving?" She asked, no humor lacing her voice, but Hermione was sure she would have seen mirth lining her eyes if she had been looking at her.

"After a while." She rebuked.

Minerva gave a brief nod and then…was through the door and as it closed, she met petrified blue eyes with her own. "We are going to get a few things sorted out, right here and now."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Adam gasped for breath as the curse was freed from his broken body.

"What is the exact date?" Johannes asked, leaning closer to the man as if inspecting the remnants of a splattered bug.

"I…don't know." Adam wheezed, thankful he could no longer feel his legs. The last Cruciatus curse must have severed or damaged the lower part of his spine. _He just had to hold on a little bit more._

"Ahhh…" Johannes flicked his wand severing off the man's ear. "Imagine my surprise when I say I don't believe you."

Adam felt tears cloud his vision, "I…don't know."

"You run numbers old man. And while I asked you to run the numbers for me, and my success…you failed to mention that Minerva would still be actively thwarting me for months. And you failed to give me the exact date of her demise, which I _know_ you calculated. As she is a family friend of yours; or should I say was…" He leaned closer, "Now, what is the date!"

Adam inwardly flinched, but forced himself to remain unmoving. He vaguely recalled how Meric and Katherine died…along with his wife…and he found another shattered remnant of his own resolve. _Just a little bit longer. _"Yesterday." He quipped and tried not to quiver as Johannes raised his arm.

"I grow tired at your lack of cooperation, Adam." He waved his arm…and cocked an appraising brow at him as he writhed in pain from the crucio curse he had cast upon the elder wizard. He had to admit that the man had spunk, a bit too much for his liking, but considering…he had probably known that they were coming. He released the spell and watched as Adam gasped for breath. "Are you ready to tell me?"

"Let's…" He spit out a mouthful of blood. "Assume I know, but…" He fought to keep conscious, "Won't tell you." He raised tired eyes, "And that it won't matter what you do to me. Because…anything that mattered...has already been taken, by you."

"While that's compelling; it does little for me and my sanity." He pointed his wand at him again.

"Go ahead," Adam rasped, "I won't give it to you."

"Ohhh…" A bolt of yellow shot from his wand, striking him in his abdomen. "But you will."

Despite the pain, the inability to breathe…Adam exerted the last of his control over his broken body. "Ne…ver."

Johannes knelt beside him, "The day is young."

* * *

oxox

* * *

The spell was released, and Ron felt his muscles strain to keep him upright as his jaw clenched and rage flashed from the depths of his eyes. "You think I would purposefully endanger our children?"

Brown eyes narrowed, "Then you're denying what our children said?"

He scoffed, "Yes…I…" His shoulders sunk a bit, "No." He corrected. "But they were never in danger." He rebuked.

"Dammit Ronald!" She snapped, and a glass carafe shattered on the far side of the room.

The explosion caused him to wince as he raised his arm to shield himself from the shards. "Watch it…" He cried out.

"Like you watch _OUR _children!" She roared.

"I DO watch them!"

"When you aren't too busy with Fresca!"

"You jealous?" He mocked.

"Get your head out of your ass, Ron." She snipped, "I divorced you for a reason, several to be precise. And the last thing I would be, is jealous of a woman dating you. I am, however, furious how you are treating the children and how you continue not to spend time with them."

He balked at all of her statements, but found himself at a loss by the last one, "Not spend time with them?"

She stepped closer, a steel edge lining her voice. "Yes. Not. Spend. Time. With. Them."

"I do!" He cried indignantly. "Every other weekend!"

"For the first eleven months we were separated, you saw the children every third weekend…when I brought them to you. If I didn't bring them, you did come to get them. You _don't _make time to spend with them." As he opened his mouth to counter, he…snapped his mouth closed at her piercing glare. "Ever."

"That was _before _you took this infernal job." He spat, "As I pick them up every other weekend, including the weekend before last."

"That's because they weren't with me and as for this _infernal _job; I took it to help protect Hogwarts and Minerva at the Order's behest. Or did you conveniently forget that fact, like how you forget to spend time with Rose and Hugo?"

"But I DO spend time with them!"

"Being in your presence doesn't constitute as spending time with them!"

"I take them to more than just quidditch games…"

"Don't Ronald." She stopped any further commentary, "After all the grief that both you and your mother have put me through regarding your concerns over Minerva's association to our children; I don't want to hear it. Especially as you don't even _watch _them when they are with you or in your presence. If they get hurt, it won't be on my watch or Minerva's or Harry's…even your mother's watch; but yours Ronald. Because, _you_ don't watch them. And by God, you are going to start; or I _will_ tell your mother _what _you do or rather don't do with her grandchildren." Her anger was spiraling out of control at his foolishness regarding how he treated their children and his lack of disregard to their safety while in his presence. And a small part of her couldn't ignore the paradoxical irony that he had created regarding Minerva…and how he viewed her as a threat to Rose and Hugo by her association to Harkiss. And...of all things…his belief couldn't have been farther from the truth; as Minerva mirrored Alastor Moody's phrase…_constant vigilance_. Never letting the children stray from her presence, rather quite the opposite – as she was always engaging, watching, and caring for them…

And…a startling thought caught her off guard – immediately deflating the bulk of her frustration and anger while leaving a trail of confusion in its wake.

_Dear heavens…she trusted their children with Minerva far more than she trusted them with Ron._

_

* * *

oxox

* * *

_

"Where?" Johannes breathed aloud, though Adam barely heard the word as it resonated within his mind as well. His occulamency barely holding.

"I said…" Adam felt a growing pressure on his face, where he couldn't be sure but, the words sounded again and he held fast…mentally chanting an old mix of words to maintain the last dregs of his sanity.

_"Where?" Johannes yelled again._

_ Adam glanced around to see the man, the pain miraculously gone…and he smiled. "You've lost." He whispered, _though to everyone else in the room, the bloodied man didn't move save for a gurgling of blood.

_"Where are the journals that show when and where she dies?" Johannes menacingly strode forward._

_ Adam's smile grew larger, his stance more relaxed as he cocked his head to the side, meeting the black hearted eyes of the vile wizard. "Where you will never find them. As they are safe." _

_ Johannes raised his arm, wand in hand and Adam merely raised his arms – laughing. "I'll be dead momentarily, and you have lost the opportunity to scare me into submission. But before I pass across the veil…" Adam waved his own hands, a ripple fluttering across the air and before Johannes could blink, the elder wizard stood before him whole and healthy. "You should know that she will die, but then again…she already knows that." His eyes sparkled, "And has planned for it. Have you?"_

Johannes blinked and he was no longer in Adam's mind, the wizard letting out a last shuddering breathe.

"Did he tell you where to find the journal you sought?" Douglass asked as Johannes stood.

"No, but I have a more pressing issue." He cast a final glance at what was left of the man.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva didn't even glance up, "I don't have the energy to fight with you today," She paused, finally lifting her gaze enough to peer over the golden frames enabling her to see Rory leaning against the doorway. "Or even debate with you."

"Luv, I didna come here ta fight with ya." He strode forward, immediately noticing the muted color of her eyes, the slouch of her normally erect shoulders, and he felt…if at all possible, far worse than he did ten minutes prior. "And I am truly sorry for our fight earlier this week. I was outta line." He rumbled, "Far outta line." He paused two meters from her desk in the vast library, "Will ya forgive me?"

A softness laced the fatigue, "There was never anything to forgive." Minerva set her quill down with practiced ease.

"Aye, there was." He whispered over the crackling flames. "After everything ya have been through the past several months, I didna need ta make it harder for ya." He came around the side of the desk, hand gently coming to rest on the back of her chair as he pushed it out and stared gently down at her. His heart going out for his sister, "I am suppose ta help make it easia'." He let his hand trail down her cheek, "And I intend ta."

She took his hand, and with his help, she stood. Clear grey met murky green eyes before his arms wrapped strongly around her slight frame, and she around his stout one. "I missed you." She whispered against his shoulder.

"And I you." He kissed the top of her head before leaning back and peering into her face. "I saw the Prophet 'tis mornin'."

She rolled her eyes, and his chest rumbled with a deep seated chuckle. "Elgin sent word that I already have close to a thousand letters awaiting my return."

"Ohh, why did ya do it, luv?" He moved away. "There woulda been a recall vote within the year."

Minerva grasped her walking stick, hip pulling as she followed him. "Yes, there would have been." She stopped by the large overstuffed, leather chair; easing into it. Before reaching up and pulling her frames from her face, eyes landing upon Rory's relaxed frame…and despite everything going on in her life, she couldn't help but feel a wonderful sense of jubilance for him. "But, I shan't be here in a year Rory; and I need his interference to be gone so I can finish what Johannes started, before it's too late."

"You don't have ta finish it. Myself or one of the Order can finish it for ya."

She sighed, "Why would I ask you to risk your life, when mine is already forfeit." A tender smile graced her lips, "Especially as you have so much more to live for."

Despite himself, a wry grin spread across his features; causing hers to widen farther.

"Which from you expression, I can assume that you and George have taken the next step."

Minerva watched the color of his eyes imperceptibly lighten at the memory, "A gentlemen never tells."

"And I will not take that away from either one of you."

"Minerva, you and I both know that it twill be a miracle for me, Helena and Harold, even the better half of the Order to come through this war alive."

"That is why I hope to give you," She leaned forward, "Each of you a better chance of living, as I am already dying."

"Minerva…"

She shook her head, "Enough melancholy, Rory. I barely have the strength to continue on with what needs to be done, lest I dwell on what is to be." She cleared her throat and blinked back the tears, "Please, brighten my dreary day and tell me of your new lover."

"Before I do…" He held up his hand, staying her commentary. "Know that I will do whatever needs be done, no matter if tis my life. As I will continue ta protect ya, luv and our family."

"I never doubted it Rory. Now," She placed her chin upon her hand, an almost cheshire grin lacing her features. "Was your delay to this morning's meeting due to personal reasons or intimately personal reasons?"

"Minerva, I canna talk too much about it. He is not comfortable with people knowin' as he fears his mother and Percy will no longer speak with him."

"Molly will come around as for Percy…" She sighed, wishing it would be easier on the younger wizard as the nature of their relationship changed. "He will too. It will just take time."

"I know." Rory said, "But I don't know if he will wait."

Minerva's hand fell away from her chin, mildly shocked that Rory…had gone ahead with the next step. She had been chiding him before…as it was beyond rare for him to take a lover…and to do so…so quickly was, uncharacteristic at best. "You did take the next step."

He gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Was he ready?" She asked aloud, scanning his face eyes as she tried to see if he had been ready.

"I couldna help myself, luv." He rasped, "It…just sorta happened."

_Nope…_she thought inwardly as she muttered, "The night with the letter." More to herself than to him as she mentally pieced the events together. His wayward and highly emotional state, add into the fact that he cared very deeply for the younger wizard, who in turn…cared for him.

"Aye, and now…I dunno know if we went too fast."

"He's worried Rory, just like you were with Derrick." Minerva quietly countered, "But that isn't what you're worried about." She said, reading his eyes with far too much ease. "You're worried…about how I'll feel, as you really care for him…" He mildly blanched and she realized it went well past caring. "You love him."

"Aye, I think I do." His voice cracked, "And I barely know him, luv."

"I'm happy for you." At his intense stare, she easily…and honestly smiled into his gaze, letting him read her like she did him merely moments before. "Truly happy. As for getting to know him, you've been watching him for months and for you, that is not a common occurrence. So, while he wasn't a friend…I'd be willing to wager you knew what he liked to eat for breakfast before he spent the night two days ago."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Where is she?" Kingsley demanded to Harold, face beat red.

"At her Manor." He casually replied as the other Department Heads remained somewhat behind the stately man, hoping not to be in the direct path of the Minister this afternoon.

"Gawain, I'd like you to assemble a detail of Aurors; departure by one this afternoon."

Gawain swallowed, "Of course." Knowing that the next few hours would be the beginning of the end as far as the Minster was concerned; especially if he left here with the intent to arrest Minerva McGonagall.

"And make sure Potter and Weasley are not on it." The Minister snapped before his gaze leveled upon Victoria.

_Yup…beginning of the end; _Gawain mused as Kingsley continued onward. "And by Executive Order, I am issuing you to close off her grate from the floo network."

"For what health and safety reason are you issuing the Order under?" Victoria countered, and Gawain inwardly chuckled as Kingsley's face became just a shade brighter and he couldn't help but notice how Jessup, Henry, Sylvia and Quinton – the younger department heads; shift at her direct question back to the Minister.

"It is not for you to understand…"

Harold stepped beside Victoria, "But it is, Minister. As we are sworn to protect the people of this country and from the article printed in the Prophet and the orders you have been issuing regarding the Headmistress; it seems that your orders today are stemming from a personal vendetta and not because of Britain's safety."

Kingsley's jaw flexed, "Everyone but Harold is excused." His eyes momentarily flickered to Gawain and then Victoria, "I expect the Auror team at my office in ten minutes and for her grate to be closed by the time they arrive here."

Harold waited until the door closed, forcing his body to remain in a relaxed anti-defensive state.

"You've finally gone too far." Kingsley stated, "I want your resignation on my desk by the time I return from bringing McGonagall back in chains from her precious Manor."

"Chains?" Harold felt his hair stand up on the back of his neck at that comment, "What possible reason do you have to arrest her?" He asked, blatantly ignoring Kingsley's request for his resignation.

"Your resignation." Kingsley's growled.

"The reason?" He countered, not backing down.

"It's above your pay grade."

Harold outright laughed in his face, "Truly? Above _my _pay grade? Then…I shall step down," Blue eyes turned predatory, "To your job."

"You self righteous, egotistical bastard…"

"Careful," Harold rumbled, "You may say something true."

"I'll have your job for insubordination!" He shrieked.

"I'll save you the hassle and give you my resignation, if…" Harold stepped closer, "You find McGonagall Manor and are able to arrest her." Harold spun on his heel ignoring Kingsley's follow-up commentary as his robes billowed out behind him. _Oh God…please let Minerva know what she is doing. _ He thought, mind desperately trying to find a way to warn Minerva, who was coming over to visit.

However, warning her…would be difficult at best; because without a backward glance, he could see the detail assigned by Kingsley to follow him for the next who knew how long. He paused midstride and cut through a throng of people as he veered to the left; inspiration striking him.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Griphook frowned at the owl and the minute parcel attached to his left leg, not recognizing the beautiful animal nor the unique wizard's magic that cast the shrinking spell. Wondering what awaited him, he untied the leather strap and with a wave of his knobby hand; he found himself staring at the now 'normal' package.

"What have we here?" He murmured to himself, noticing his name scrawled across the letter a top the bundle. "And who are you from?" He asked giving the owl a piece of dried bacon left over from his lunch.

The owl hooted before picking up the morsel and flying away. Opening the letter, he placed the parchment near the candle to ease the strain upon his eyes.

_Dear Sir, _

_ Our paths have never crossed before nor shall they have the opportunity to in the future, because by the time you receive this letter I will already be dead._

Involuntarily, a grimace passed before his face as he continued on, mildly intrigued.

_I am, however, asking an enormous request as I have enclosed a series of journals that must make it into the hands of one of your clients; who is a dear family friend – Minerva McGonagall. _

His eyes shot to the journals and then back to the letter.

_They are Arthmancer equations that Johannes Harkiss wishes to obtain; and mustn't. However, these journals __must__ reach Minerva's hands on March 13__th__, 2010 at 9pm. It is imperative that she not have these before that designated date and time. If she does, her life will end far before it is meant to be, and my last hours of life and the pain I suffered will have been in vain. _

_ If you cannot keep these safe until then, then I ask you destroy them. It would be better for her to never know of a possible outcome versus the alternative._

_ I know you wonder why I have sent this to you, it is because no one would make the connection between us – and more importantly, Minerva trusts you._

_ Please keep this safe. _

_ And as payment for your assistance, route the remaining contents of my vault to your personal holdings._

_ With warmest regards and heartfelt gratitude,_

_ Adam Brunt_

Griphook reread the letter, before lifting his gaze upwards and staring at the stack of journals wondering how true the man's letter was, and exactly what was written on those bound parchments. It was only because of who was to receive the texts that he managed to curtail his own curiosity, and that the man who sent them had given his life to make sure that she received them.

He scanned the date once more, before crumpling the paper and throwing it into the fireplace behind him. The paper instantly burst into green then yellow flames before disintegrating into black ash, in a single movement, he spun back around and snatched the parcel and strode from his office, at a speed and with agility rarely if ever seen.

After all, he had a parcel to secure.

Immediately.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva strode down the halls, her cloak billowing behind her, walking stick pinging off the marble floor; enraged. Rory was barely able to keep up, his long legs matching her swift strides.

He had tried to stop her from leaving, but…she had been adamant. Extremely adamant and so, he went with her.

Or more precisely ran after her.

And had been since they had left the Manor and entered the Ministry, dozens of eyes trailing after them…until he watched her draw to a stop; cloak flourishing outward as she did.

"Are you still keen on arresting me, Minister?" She drawled while bring her walking stick to rest at her left side.

Rory couldn't see his expression, but the tenor in Kingsley's voice reflected his surprise. And undoubtedly so…it isn't everyday that the person the Minister of Magic is going to arrests; openly and willingly enters the Ministry. "I would like to speak with you in private, Headmistress."

"What are the charges?" She asked, the milling crowd openly stopping and staring.

His eyes cast about the edge of the atrium they were currently standing in. "Excuse me?"

"The charges that you wish to arrest me for." She clarified, several gasps and murmured 'no' could be heard from the throng of persons gravitating only meters away.

"It would be best to discuss our business in private, Headmistress." He motioned to the elevators.

"For you perhaps, but what are the charges?" Her question undeterred despite his attempts at obfuscating.

He stepped closer, voice a low rumble. "For sedition." His baritone voice clipped before nodding to the Aurors beside him. "Arrest her."

Four wizards and four witches stepped around the Minister, but stopped at seeing the Headmistress of Hogwarts; Minerva McGonagall standing opposite of the Minister…her features appearing glacial. "Ahh…" Pansy Parkinson swallowed, hard. "Minister, I don't think I can arrest her."

"Me either." Stanley stepped back. _It didn't do well to stand between the Titans; no good could possibly come out of it…unless I got petrified in the crossfire and was able to save my job_. Stanley mused as the rest of the Aurors eased backwards, following his and Pansy's example.

Minerva eyed the situation with amusement, but her voice remained…steady. "If you wish to arrest me, Kingsley." She lifted her arms outwards, "Then arrest me. _You._" She nodded to the men and women stepping aside from him, "Not one of your minions, but you."

All eyes drifted between the two…and the outright contempt etched upon both their faces for the other. Neither moving for a heartbeat…both contemplating…before his deep voice resonating off the marble.

"Very well." He said drew out his wand in a flash, pointing at the woman who was single handedly trying to have him excised from office to help her nefarious son-in-law. "Minerva McGonagall, you are under arrest for sedition against the Ministry of Magic and the persons of Britain."

"You've gone too far Kingsley." She remarked, slowly letting her arms fall to her sides.

"It is _you_ who has gone too far, Minerva." Brown eyes watching her movements like a hawk as he took a singular step closer.

"If speaking the truth against the current Minister of Magic is a crime, then I am guilty. However, there will be a recall vote awaiting you by the time you regain consciousness – and by God, I will see to it if it is the very last thing I do, that you lose."

"Damn you." He sneered as his wand swept through the air, a yellow bolt spiraling towards the venerable Headmistress of Hogwarts.

_I already am_, she thought as she watched the spell hurl forwards. Idly, she recalled the recent lessons she had spent working on the very topic with Hermione. How her lithe body had begun to move as so few knew how to and dared to try. She felt a subtle calmness swept through Minerva as she blinked, waiting another heartbeat, her mind dwelling upon Hermione for a scant moment more…noticing the familiar figure pulling his own wand from maroon robes - before like the cat she was, she moved.

In a way that none, would have expected.

Her walking stick having been thrust forward and splintering apart, the crowd turning away…as did Kingsley from the deadly wood particles and odd bits of smoke. A bolt of silver joining the smoke…and as all eyes turned back, they were surprised to see…she was gone and Kingsley was lying flat on his back. Petrified.

Rory couldn't help but smile as everyone else snapped their heads around, desperately searching for the woman they wouldn't see or find. His own eyes landing upon Harold's retreating form...hand tucking something…_his wand,_ Rory mused, away. "How'd she do that?"

"Where is she?"

"Think we should move him?"

Rory dropped his eyes to the Minister and back to the elevators in time to see Harold step onto the blasted contraption…their gazes momentarily locking and even from this distance; Rory could see the barely contained glee in blue depths before he was gone. _It seemed Harold's message had a few more details than he had thought_, Rory arched his brow at the petrified Minister; and like so many others…turned and left.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione stopped at the oddity, wondering when Minerva had been in her rooms; as she picked up the small letter with her name scrolled across. After all, she would recognize Minerva's handwriting, anywhere.

Slitting the seal, she pulled a thick ivory card out from the envelope and her eyes immediately scanned across the rich emerald and interwoven scarlet writing – that was not Minerva's.

_Perhaps Bonnie's writing? _Hermione thought as she digested the words. A broad smile growing upon her face as she did.

_Ms. H.J. Granger _

_ You and a guest are invited to attend a Holiday Gala event on Monday, December 21__st__, 2009 hosted by Minerva McGonagall._

_ Beginning at 5:00pm. _

_ Dinner will commence at 6:00pm. _

_ Music and festivities to follow. _

_ R.S.V.P. to stating yes or no within ten minutes of opening this card._

Hermione didn't waste any time, "Yes, I would like to attend."

The color of the ink faded as the print melted into a new message. And it was times like this, that Hermione loved the unending possibilities of magic.

_A portkey will appear where this envelop was at 4:50pm on the 21__st__. _

_ Hermione, _

_ If you are inclined, the Mistress is having a private get together with the family on the evening of the 23__rd__ at the Manor. Please let her know yourself._

_ Bonnie_

Hermione glanced over to Godric. "Is Minerva in?"

"She has just returned from the Ministry." He stepped through two other paintings, bringing himself closer to her. "It seems that he was going to place a warrant out for her arrest."

"What?" She asked.

"So she went to the Ministry to refute the charges, and while there incapacitated the Minister."

Hermione strode towards the door, "Is she alright?"

"Yes, though, if you wish to see her, now would be preferable as she looks rather tired."

"Thank you, Godric." She flashed him an appreciative smile.

Godric nodded in return, watching as the young woman hastily exited her rooms. He paused for a moment in quiet contemplation regarding the growing friendship that was developing between Minerva and Hermione; and the hint of something more that neither woman seemed aware of…but he doubted the either woman was incapable from stopping. A soft sigh eschewed from eternal lips as Albus' face came to mind, and he wondered for the thousandth time how much longer Albus and Minerva's love could survive between three planes of existence – the living, the dead, and the in between. It was a discussion oft had between he, Salazar, Rowena and Helga. Each wanting to believe that their bond would survive, holding to the notion that love _was _the most powerful form of magic. However, even the mightiest spells crumble given enough pressure and time.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

A chorus of hellos greeted Minerva as she headed towards her desk, eyes already noting the carefully stacked letters waiting for her. "Hello." She clipped in response as she threw her outer cloak onto the arm of her desk chair, fingers automatically unfastening the top of her robes along her neck and felt her hands marginally stiffen even farther from the minute use of magic.

"Minerva, we need to talk." Albus' voice cut through her meandering thoughts, causing her to jerk her eyes up to his portrait.

"Not tonight, Albus."

"Minerva…"

She felt his worry, his love, his concern for her and their mutual fatigue. "I'm tired. We're both sorry, so let it be for one more day. Please." Her voice involuntarily softened, "We'll talk in the morning."

It was with great trepidation that he consented. As the hours since her sudden departure last evening had passed with aching slowness. Each minute feeling as though an hour has passed, and each hour as though a day had passed. He needed to speak with her, his words and their discord...was placing an additional stress upon them…that they did not need. "In the morning, my dear." Their bond had already been stressed for too long and too far. The last thing he wanted to do was to stress the fissure between them anymore than it was already stressed.

She gave a half hearted nod before turning to the rest of the portraits, "Anything else of relevancy that cannot wait until morning?"

"The Board of Governors asked to inform you of a meeting this evening at 7." Rowena crisply stated.

Her eyes darted to the clock, to see that it was not quite 5. "It seems that my desire for an early evening has been temporarily waylaid." She turned to Helga, "Will you please relay to Filius and Pomona that I shall be at the Governor's estate this evening and as such, will not be attending dinner."

Helga gave a curt nod, "At once, Minerva." And disappeared from the frame, as did Rowena.

"Elgin," She called out as she drew out her chair behind her desk, and glanced up as he materialized beside her. "It seems that I'll be leaving for a short bit this evening, and have need for a light bit of dinner prior to."

"I shall bring some soup and bread; and a spot of tea."

"That sounds lovely."

"It shan't be a few moments, Mistress." And he was gone in faint pop.

Albus inwardly sighed, pulling off his glasses. Knowing that the second part of what he wished to speak with his wife about, now, could not wait till morning. He waited a moment more, watching as she pulled a stack of letters to her; pulling out a ream of parchment, her quill and ink pot. He loved the long lines of her neck, the way her wisps of black hair fluttered at her nape, her proud shoulders, the angle of her jaw, the cut of her cheekbone…

"I miss you too, my dear." She called, enjoying the feeling of love as it lightly rippled through her essence; fingers deftly picking up the quill.

"I need to tell you, that I saw Adam this afternoon."

The quill fell from numb fingers as she spun the chair around, "No, Albus…"

Blue met tear filled green ones, "He wishes you well."

"No…" She gasped bringing a hand up to her mouth as tears fell unbidden from her eyes. "He just left…St. Mungos this past Tuesday."

"And for that, he is sorry; but he said that he did not wish to forestall seeing his wife and sons again."

Minerva felt the gargoyle activate, and involuntarily wiped the tears away as she swallowed the heartache. "Please Albus, tell me that he did not suffer."

"He would not divulge the cause of his death."

"Did he at least tell you where he died?"

The door opened as Albus responded, "His home."

Minerva raised tear filled eyes upwards, to see Hermione's form step into her office; and she found the tears she had momentarily stymied were pressing against the back of her eyes…_wanting_ to be released. With considerable force of will, she kept her voice even trying to force a smile upon her face. "Hermione, what an unexpected surprise."

Hermione paused, eyes involuntarily narrowing as she neared; noticing the way the shafts of waning twilight sparkled off what could only be tear streaks upon Minerva's face. "Are you alright?" She asked, not stopping in front of the cherry desk, coming around the side…only to feel her heart sink at being able to clearly see the drying tear streaks and blood shot eyes mostly obscured from view by her glasses. "Minerva…?"

"Adam…" Minerva fought for composure, "Was killed."

Without thought, Hermione reached out, fingers gently touching the edge of her shoulder; "I am so sorry."

Minerva numbly nodded as she deftly took her glasses off, and placed her head within her palm. "He left St. Mungos…knowing that he would die." Minerva gasped, and could feel her world begin to crumble…as memories of Adam…and his wife, Victoria, stopped by Manor to visit with her father…and mother. She remembered how Callum, her brother, and their son, Hershal, used to spend hours upon hours brewing potions in the kitchen while she and Hector dueled across the front lawns as Derrick watched and learned. And now…they were all gone. Killed in this war or the last…it didn't matter; as she was the only one to have survived.

And…as the tears began streaming down her face, she felt a hand slip down her shoulder, her back…and she willingly moved her body forward and into the warmth of another. Needing a moment of solace…

Hermione had kneeled lower, but as Minerva sank into her embrace; she could feel her quadriceps burn from the added weight, though didn't dare move as the elder woman gave in to grief. Quiet sobs racking her far too slight frame, and Hermione made a mental note to make sure she was eating two and preferably three meals in addition to snacks per day; as she continued holding her.

Elgin appeared several minutes later, and Minerva slowly pulled herself away…despite the tears that still _wanted _to fall…she could no longer give them further credence. She had wallowed in grief…for all that she had time to spare. She could feel her desire to turn her head away in shame for her momentary bout of grief, but flexed her jaw as she sat back into her chair. "Thank you." She rasped, holding Hermione's gaze for a moment before glancing to Elgin. "Will you please take that upstairs?"

"Of course." He went to snap his fingers, but yellow orbs left his Mistress and darted to Hermione in question.

"I was about to have a bite of dinner before…" She cleared her throat as Hermione stood, "Going to the Governor's Manor for a meeting. You are, of course, welcome to join me."

"Only if you are feeling up to having company."

"Then please…" Minerva motioned to the back of her office, as she answered Elgin's unspoken query. "A second setting will be needed."

He gave a curt nod and was gone.

Minerva slowly made her way up the stairs, Hermione waiting beside a small table set for two that Elgin had placed in her living room. She gave her a nod, as she gimped forward. "Please go ahead and have a seat."

Hermione waited despite the prompt. "Your hip seems stiff."

"The damp cold plays havoc with both my hip and ribs."

"Ribs?"

"Yes, from my stunning encounter with Delores." They both pulled out their chairs, and she willingly expanded upon her answer, as she wasn't quite ready to speak about Adam…or his death. "As they had been shattered from the impact."

"I would have thought skelo-grow would have completely healed them both." Hermione laid out her napkin a top her lap.

"Under normal circumstances, that is very true. However," Minerva broke the bread and handed a piece to Hermione. "As with my hip, things didn't go as they should have."

"Thank you." Hermione murmured taking the bread, "Helena wasn't able to repair it?"

"She was, however, it still aches when it is damp and cold."

Hermione slid a glass of tea in front of Minerva's plate, "I hate to state the obvious, but we're in Scotland." She waited a hair's breathe of a moment until Minerva glanced up. "It's damp and cold here seven months of the year."

A hint of a sparkle flashed in green eyes, "Ahhh…the life of the Highlands."

"You said you had to meet the Governors this evening?" Hermione took a sip of soup.

"Inevitably it is regarding the article printed in the Prophet today."

"Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

Minerva dipped a chunk of bread into her soup, "I'll be fine."

Hermione leaned forward, "You always are, but I didn't ask how you were. Rather if you are feeling up to going?"

Green eyes lifted up, meeting Hermione's brown gaze. Whether it was the warmth emanating from her eyes or the openness in her face…she found the words slipping from her lips with little effort. "I had planned on lying down when I returned to Hogwarts." She took a sip of soup, "Seems my plans have changed."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione gently pried.

"The last several weeks…" Minerva corrected the time frame, "Months have been long and I do believe I finally need a bit of sleep."

Hermione chuckled, "I'd say more than a bit." Her voice softened, "But you can't keep going as you are. You're pushing too hard and will get yourself killed because you're just plain exhausted."

"I will slow down as time allows, Hermione. In that regard, you will have to trust me."

"I do." Hermione whispered. "But, you can only push yourself so far."

"I am aware." Minerva gently responded, _far more than you know._ "But, I will ask you to remember that tidbit of advice yourself."

"I will."

"Including, continuing to make time for your children."

Hermione nodded, "I will always make time for them."

"I have no doubt." Minerva quietly remarked.

"Thank you, by the way." Hermione sipped her soup, chewing the vegetables. "For letting me know about the children and Ron."

"I was going to solely address him, however, if I had been in your situation I would like to have known."

"It's better that I spoke with him as…" She paused, not wanting to burden Minerva further, "There were other variables that needed to be addressed as well."

Minerva dabbed her lips and slowly set her napkin down, "Would one of those variables be me?"

"Minerva," Hermione shook her head, "It has nothing to do with you."

The elder witch stared across the table for several seconds before she gently shook her head, "You lie poorly, and while I thank you for trying to spare my feelings dear; I am alright and quite able to handle the truth. While, Adam's death was a bit of shock, I had just learned of it only moments before your arrival." Her brogue lacing her words, "He was a close family friend and the last living close friend of my parents. As for Ronald," She nodded to Hermione, "I would venture that he, along with his mother and brother Percy, believe that your children's association to me could and will place Rose and Hugo in harm's way."

"Everyone in the Order is a potential target," Hermione forcefully replied.

"True, but...I'm personally involved."

Minerva watched as tears gradually welled up in brown eyes, "I don't understand how they can view being with you as a greater threat to the children. When they are with you, they are at Hogwarts; and far safer than any environment they are in with Ron or even while at the Burrow."

_So they did, _Minerva inwardly thought; wishing it wasn't so, but that explained Molly's odd expression earlier in the week regarding her arrival at the Burrow and wishing to see the children. "Perception, Hermione." She quietly stated aloud, "And this is not the first time that people do not wish to associate or know me…" She gently squeezed Hermione's hand before withdrawing it. "For being in the center of the coming storm has far reaching consequences for all involved. And Molly has already lost her two brothers, parents and a one son to war, she does not wish to lose anymore of her family; especially her grandchildren." Minerva cleared her throat, "I know…as I have been where she now sits."

"And…what did you do?"

"Continued on while making as many provisions for my family as I could."

"Do you regret it?"

"At times." Minerva swallowed the last of her tea, "But, I believe I would have regretted the other far more."

"I…" Hermione paused, restructuring what she was going to say with what needed to be said between them. "Minerva…" She waited a hair's breathe of a second until Minerva met her gaze. "I need you to know that I _do_ trust you with my children. Implicitly."

"I know." Minerva whispered, _almost wishing…she didn't. Because…Merlin forgive her, if something did happen to Hermione's children._

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Minerva, you can understand our concern as the Minister…"

"I did not break any law with the article nor any contractual agreement that I have as the Headmistress. Now, was there anything else?"

All eyes swept to Arthur, who cleared his throat as he leaned forward. "The Minister has demanded your removal."

"If you feel that there is another person who is better suited to run Hogwarts through the end of the year; then please, remove me." Minerva reached up and pulled off her glasses, gently laying them down table. "I'm tired." She stated sincerely, "Of having to fight to keep Hogwarts safe while cutting through the red tape from the Ministry and being followed by the Unspeakable division."

"We are not questioning why you did what you did, only the timing. There would have been a recall vote by this summer; and as you have previously stated, your resources have been stretched thin running Hogwarts. Why not let this problem correct itself?" Alayah questioned.

"I have grown tired of not being able to see friends and family without having to have a mysterious escort issued through the Unspeakable division."

"Only seven months…"

"Would you like your life under a microscope for the next seven months, Stanley?" His face balked, and she continued on. "As for updates, I have no additional news outside of the report you received this past Wednesday. Is," Her fingers grasping the end of the arms, "That all for the evening?"

"Have you decided?" Despite the quietness of the question, it echoed through the room as if Alayah had yelled it out.

Minerva met her gaze for only the briefest of moments, and then pushed her chair back and stood up slowly. "I have."

"And?" Several Governors chorused.

"It'll wait until our meeting in January." She stated eased her glasses back onto her face, "Because, like each of you," She reached over and grasped her walking stick. "I want to be sure."

* * *

Oxoxo

* * *

_A/N: _

_I feel as I am repeating myself, but work has been…horridly busy and despite my belief that it would slow down…I am sorry to say, it has not. However, I keep hoping and have my fingers crossed._

_Regarding a question recently asked; yes, we learn the meaning behind the Centaurs comments – and Hermione is Titan._

_And…before you ask…. – I am aware that the date on Adam's letter does not match the date in Meric and Helena's journals or even the ones that Adam sent to Minerva. But, both dates are exceptionally important – for very different reasons._

_Many many thank yous to those who have been reading and taking time to review. It is __most__ appreciated! And as always, hope you enjoyed! _


	55. Chapter 52 December 6th, 2009

**Chapter 53 ~ December 6****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

Hermione averted her eyes at the dried blood splattered across the wall, a gasp slipping from the woman whom she was escorting beside her.

"Dear…Merlin…" Minerva murmured as they continued inside, jaw clenched as she forced herself to enter the familiar home. Victoria's curio cabinet had been pulled from the wall, tipped over…bone china shattered across the floor; a portrait of Hershal and Adam ripped…

"It appears as though they were looking for something." Hermione followed behind Minerva who was picking her way through the wreckage, steadily moving forward and into the next room.

"Let us hope they did not locate what they were looking for." She scanned the dining room, the barren walls…pictures and furniture upturned. And…she found herself pausing at the familiar sea of faces staring up at her beneath the cracked glass.

Hermione's eyes trailing downward too…and without thought, she wandlessly summoned the broken frame; far more interested in the picture. "Is this you?"

Minerva glanced back at the frame carefully held in Hermione's hands, and the picture encased within it. She remembered the evening well, "Mother had taken the boys to town, and father…" Her voice caught, but she forced the words to continue on. "Went to visit Adam and I…Hector."

A softly spoken spell repaired the glass, and Hermione found her gaze lifting up to compare the youthful face of the woman in the picture to the one before her. The line of her jaw…the way her eyes sparkled…but instead of the youthful beauty held within the picture, it had been replaced with breathtaking elegance… "And this is Hector?" She pointed to the young man standing beside her picture; both figures moving and smiling to the picture.

"Yes, he was their son."

"Was…" Hermione began but quickly realized why Minerva had phrased it in such a manner. "How did he die?"

"Hector died from one of Germany's many bombs striking London during the war."

"It looks as though you two were close." Hermione carefully watching Minerva.

"We were." Minerva turned around, "I grew up with Hershal and Hector; along with Rory and Mia."

"Mia?" She questioned as she shrunk the picture and placed it in her robes.

Minerva paused at the threshold into the next room, "Rory's sister."

Hermione was thankful Minerva didn't see her face momentarily falter. She had known Rory had a sister, but failed to investigate farther – in part because of lack of time but also…due to her own personal problems. A mistake she wouldn't make again. Blinking and shaking off her own thoughts, she strode quickly forward into the next room to see blood splattered everywhere…and Minerva's gaze fixated ahead. A trembling hand over her mouth, tears slipping down her cheeks and Hermione snapped her eyes ahead…and felt her stomach roll. What was left of Adam's body lay sprawled out upon the floor, leaning upon the edge of the couch…from his position, it was evident that his rib cage had been broken, as had his legs and arms. Dried blood was crusted across his lips, throat…down the side of his face from his missing ear…

Without thinking, Hermione unfastened her cloak and took the handful of steps…placing it over his still form before she turned back around…about to step towards Minerva who cleared her throat and with a broken voice stopped her movement.

"Let's finish what…we came here for." Minerva whispered, forcing her eyes away from the far too still form now hidden beneath the smoke grey cloak. She yanked tear filled eyes up to Hermione, "Please."

Hermione nodded, feeling her own chest burst at the raw expression upon the elder woman's face. No woman…no person…should have to bear the pain that she has had to within her life. "Minerva…you don't have to…do this. I can…"

"His work journals…" Her Scottish accent unusually pronounced, "See if they remain."

Hermione swept from the room, not knowing what she was looking for; but hoping she'd know it when she found it. She entered a small alcove, papers and books hewn ankle deep. The desk and chair were cleaved apart as twilight sprinkled through the octagonal window overlooking the north of the property.

Scanning across the overturned parchments, she knelt and pulled a frame to her…one that caused a smile to immediately grace her face. It housed a picture of Minerva and another woman; smiles lighting both their eyes. Unlike the other picture, this one had been taken when she was an adult. She couldn't place when…as Minerva…seemed timeless. It could have been forty years ago or even two weeks ago; save for now…she had a pearly streak through her black mane. Hermione eyed the picture, and like before, she shrank it and tucked it within her robes.

She flipped through several of the journals, texts and books…not finding what they were seeking – Arthimancer equations predicting the future. After an hour of searching, she wandered through the house until she found Minerva; who was tenderly moving books aside still exploring the small library.

"Nothing?"

"No," Hermione replied, "And you?"

Minerva set the book down, "They aren't here."

"Perhaps he didn't complete any more after his release from St. Mungos."

"He's an Arthimancer," Minerva stated, recalling her childhood and how her father would constantly scratch and doodle in various journals about all manner of things…Adam often times doing the same thing. "It's in his nature to doodle and constantly explore the world around him using math equations."

"Do you think Harkiss retrieved them?"

"I hope not." Minerva went to stand, taking Hermione's proffered hand as she did to help her upright. "Thank you." She let her hand fall from Hermione's as her eyes glanced around the devastated room, remembering how it once was. How the spines used to sparkle in the moonlight; and…how she used to spend hours ensconced in books from this very library reading until her father would come and wake her at some late hour to return home.

"If he did?" Minerva glanced to Hermione, blinking away the distant memory.

"Then what we have been doing…" Minerva cleared her throat, "Will have been for naught, as Johannes will know how to take the Heart and become immortal. As well as…foreseeing how and when to not only kill me, but any who would stand in his way."

Both women were startled, wands drawn out before they realized the offending noise was a soft tap resonated at the window. Minerva narrowed her eyes, and with a flick of her wrist, the window opened…and they were both reminded of Hedwig as a beautiful white owl flew in. "Archimedes." Minerva stated aloud, "Adam sent you away yesterday." She held out her arm, and the owl immediately flew to her.

"It looks as though he has recently carried something." Hermione pointed to the leather strap still upon his leg.

Minerva lifted her left arm, Archimedes' claws digging into her skin as she did; but she ignored the bite in her flesh as she fingered the leather strap. "What did you take with you, my friend?"

The owl chirped and a few times and Hermione watched as Minerva tipped her head to the side…as if understanding the owl's response. Any doubt that she did understand was negated as Minerva stroked the side of the owl's head and softly spoke again.

"A package of sorts…" She murmured, "To where?"

"You understand him?" Hermione asked befuddled.

Minerva ignored Hermione's remark, trying to focus on the subtle clicks and sounds...beyond the scope of normal hearing...she gently rubbed the top of his head. "I understand it was far, but…can you tell me anything else?"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from making any further comments, feeling her heart swell as shafts of light filtered across Minerva's hair…the way she tilted her head to listen...to what; she didn't know…as she didn't hear a response, but somehow…Minerva did.

_Animagus traits…_her brain sluggishly answered, and she wondered exactly what else the woman before was able to do because of her animagus traits.

"He was sent out as others arrived."

"Others?" Hermione questioned as Minerva finally turned to her.

"Two legged walkers." Minerva succinctly replied.

"Is that what he calls humans?"

It started as a bubble…unexpectedly…rippling upwards…and out, tickling her throat…before a rich chuckle slipped outward, reverberating off the walls...instantly drawing a smile to Hermione's lips at the hearing the rare…yet beautiful sound. "Yes." She said, running her hand across his head once more, "He does."

"And you heard him?"

"To Hogwarts." Her crisp voice resonated as she dropped her arm, and at once, Archimedes spread his wings and was through the window two beats later. Minerva's eyes trailed after him for a moment, heart aching that he would be joining her at Hogwarts. "Yes, I can." She solemnly whispered, "And did. As you surmised, it deals with…"

"Your animagus traits."

"Yes." Minerva stated, "Now…" She cleared her throat, "It seems our small friend helped to clear up one fact."

"Harkiss doesn't have the journals."

Minerva shook her head, "It would seem that he does not."

"Can he tell you who does?"

"It isn't Gaelic or English…or even a hint of Latin or French; and I couldn't understand his references."

"You speak Latin and French too?"

"My grandfather insisted I learn Latin and as for French…the war with Grindlewald. Come…" Minerva turned, "I need to let Helena know that she has a body to collect."

"Minerva…"

"His journals aren't here, Hermione." Minerva summoned her cloak, "He sent them somewhere, and…we'll probably never know who he sent them too. At least," She slipped her arm into the cloak, "I hope we never learn who received those journals."

"Does he have any relatives to inform?" She asked, following her out.

"No," Minerva said, voice catching. "He was the last of his family," Her fingers stayed on the door handle for a long moment, shoulders slowly dropping before she opened the door to feel a gust of cold air brush across her moist cheeks.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist as she stepped into the frigid air, only to see Minerva pause…the sun glinting off her glasses and hiding her eyes…as she stretched out her hand and the glove morphed into a black cloak fluttering in the breeze.

"Here." Minerva's lilt blowing with the wind.

"Thank you." Hermione shrugged on the cloak, the coldness disappearing almost instantly.

Minerva swallowed, hard…as her left hand plunged into her cloak; her right putting weight upon her walking stick as they began striding past Adam's wards. She could feel her hip pull and her shoulder pang as they strode ahead, but she ignored both…enjoying the feel of the bitter, unforgiving air against her face. It helped to keep the tears at bay for a few moments longer, hopefully enabling her enough time to return to Hogwarts and bid Hermione good day…before the grief in her chest swallowed her whole.

She felt the wards shift around her and, she felt Hermione's hand wrap around her forearm. "Thank you, for coming with me." Minerva whispered.

"Thanks for asking." Hermione quietly replied, and with a silent pop…both women were gone and standing before the gates of Hogwarts.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva pulled another parchment out, sighing as she did. "No, Albus. I did not send one to Grieselda Marshbanks."

"How can you…"

"Because, I only have so much time, and I know Grieselda." Irritation lacing her words, "She will not need a personal letter from me to help shape her vote."

"You shouldn't be over confident."

Godric inwardly cringed at his remark, as did Rowena…along with the rest of the portraits in the office.

"It has nothing to do with over confidence, Albus." Minerva snapped. "Rather limited resources and time. So, why in Merlin's name would I spend time writing to persons who I know want a recall vote."

"You haven't spoken to Grieselda."

"Nor have I spoken to Daniel or Edgar…"

"They wanted a recall vote two years ago."

"So I should write to them today to make sure?" She spun her chair around, tired and enraged.

"Minerva, that is not what I meant."

"Truly?"

"Has Grieselda spoken with you of late?" He rebuked.

"Two months ago, we exchanged letters, and no…we did not speak of the Minister. But that doesn't mean that I don't know her thoughts regarding Kingsley."

"How can you be sure?"

"What happened to your unending trust that you used to have in me?"

"Your friendship with her does not mean that she will back you in the Wizengamout tomorrow."

"Don't you think I know that?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

It was with an unsteady hand that Helena passed her wand over Adam's body, the readings confirming her worst fears. He had been tortured. Severely.

From the stress fractures along his spine, he had been the recipient of the Cruciatus curse for more than a half dozen times. Not counting what they did to his skeletal structure…and she shuddered to even contemplate if they had given him anything or had tried Leglimency upon him.

"Oh…Adam, why did you leave?" She asked into the stillness. "Surely you knew what was coming."

Her hand pausing over his abdomen, and she dropped her arm no longer able to absorb what the scan was showing her…through the tears…

"You had to have known." She brokenly whispered. She could feel a surge of emotion swell through her, assuaging the grief as Harold inwardly consoled her. But, the anguish still pulsed. She had known him for over seventy years, having met him for the first time as a professor at Hogwarts…and then the following summer at her new friend's house…Minerva McGonagall. She had been afraid of the revered man, Minerva, on the other hand, just laughed…

_"He's my father's friend."_

_ "But he teaches Arthimancy at Hogwarts."_

_ "So." She tugged at her sleeve, "Come on, let's go talk to Uncle Adam."_

_ "Uncle...?" Her voice had jumped an octave, "I thought he was a friend…" She found herself following Minerva down the hall, who was already pulling a set of double doors open. Minerva hadn't shown her where they led…but felt her jaw drop as the first shafts of light spilled outward – _

_ "Hello pumpkin." Professor Brunt's voice breaking her shock and awe at the vast library before her. _

_ "Uncle Adam." Minerva shot forward and into outstretched arms._

_ Adam's astute gaze shifted to the other occupant, "Imagine my surprise when Albus stated that you had befriended several students from other houses, including…Miss Harrison."_

_ "Why?" Minerva gazed at her father then back to Adam, and Helena shifted on her feet feeling…if at all possible even more self conscious._

_ "It isn't often done," Adam rumbled, "But as you and Helena…" His voice becoming softer, "Have a keen intellect rarely seen, it is no wonder the two of you have become friends."_

_ Meric turned to the young woman in the doorway, "Then you are in Ravenclaw?"_

_ "Ahhh, yes Sir." Helena tried to keep her voice even, despite the trembling that had taken up residence throughout her body._

_ "A fine house." Meric replied, "As a dear friend once called himself Ravenclaw."_

_ "Really?" Helena questioned, feet absently making their way towards the small group. "Who?"_

_ Meric chuckled, as did Adam. "Me." Adam interjected._

_ "And what house did you belong to Mr. McGonagall?" Helena had inquired._

_ "Gryffindor." He easily replied, "And," He knelt down upon one knee, "As you are a friend of my young lass, while here, please call me Meric."_

_ Helena felt herself blinking, "Ahh…"_

_ "And you needn't feel uncomfortable calling me Adam while here and not at Hogwarts, Helena."_

_ "Yes…Sir." She gasped._

_ "Helena," Meric's rich brogue instantly brought her eyes to his, "Minerva has said you are quite the academic and like Arthimancy…"_

_ "Ahhh…" Helena hurriedly glanced to Minerva, who nodded for her to continue. "Yes, Mr. Meric…sir."  
_

_ "Just Meric will do." Meric kindly corrected, "Now, Adam and I have an affinity to Arthimancy and would love to hear your thoughts on…"_

And the hours drifted by, her worries about Minerva's father along with their mutual professor having dissipated with the waning light as she had begun to see them…as adults, who were experts in their respective fields, and no one she need to have feared.

_Merriment sparkled from behind his charcoal eyes, "And what of potions?"_

_ Minerva groaned, "Helena is far better."_

_ "Yet, you did get an outstanding." Meric rebuked._

_ "Barely." Minerva muttered._

_ "It seems as though you two are evenly matched and will be interesting to see who takes top marks by your seventh year." Adam surmised._

_ Both Minerva and Helena glanced to the other, smiles curling both their faces at how well their academic skills did rival the other._

_ "Minerva stated that you were thinking of becoming an Auror, Helena."_

_ Blue eyes widened, remembering the evening the two had exchanged stories of what they saw themselves doing after graduating from Hogwarts. "I had thought that sounded interesting, but…" She swallowed, remembering how her friend had suffered this last year. How she had bravely met their friends' pitying remarks and comments, and stated that she had been fine and to stop…and afterwards…_

_ How Minerva had quietly cried on the steps…thinking no one had heard her. How she couldn't use her right hand…couldn't feel it…_

_ And then…the quidditch game. _

_ Helena had known that playing in the dark against Aegis and the damn Slytherin players would be a mistake, and it had been. She had almost died. Saved…no by one of her housemates, but by her stout Gryffindor friend…how had blindingly darted downward on a broom to catch her before she had struck the earth; then afterwards…taken the blame as Dumbledore had spoken with them. And how she hadn't said a word when Dumbledore sent her to receive treatment and how the Healer had treated her…and the pain he had caused to her hand…_

_ To the point that even now, she still had restrictions as to what she could and couldn't do; having to go to St. Mungos twice a week for treatment._

_ She had never had a friend like Minerva._

_ Or even Philip or Eliza…or Digs…Melinda…or William…_

_ But most of all…a friend quite as…good as Minerva._

_ And, after watching everyone whom she considered a friend spend time in the Infirmary; and…how poorly her 'best' friend had been treated this spring; almost losing full use of her hand…_

_ She had come to a decision last month, that she no longer wished to be an Auror or even an academic like her mother desired. _

_ "Now I believe I will be a healer." Helena proclaimed._

_ "Why?" Minerva's face portraying her question long before it was uttered._

_ Helena had turned to Minerva, blue eyes as clear as green…honesty ringing from her heartfelt words. "Because, I've never had a friend like Philip, Eliza, Digs, Melinda, William or…a best friend like you before and…I'd like to keep 'all' of you around for just a bit longer as you each have a propensity to hurt yourself."_

_ Adam gently touched her arm, "While admirable, Helena, I hope you realize that accidents happen and…you won't be able to help them all."_

_ "Of course I will, Professor." Her voice laced with indignation, "Because I will be the best healer the world has ever seen."_

_ Meric nudged Adam, who looked at some quick calculations and with a frown turned back to Helena as Meric stated. "I have no doubt Helena, that you would be a gifted healer…"_

…

And she had become one of the best, if not _the_ best healer in Europe. But Adam had been right. She couldn't be everywhere…and save everyone…

Especially those who meant the most, those she _wanted_ to save.

Because, as the years ticked by…

She had saved innumerable lives, but the very persons whom she had been closest to…

It seemed as though those were the very persons who suffered the most…and the ones who invariably died.

It hadn't mattered what her experience had been when Eliza had been cursed…or William…her parents…

Digs…

Melinda…

Her son…

They had all died.

Even Adam, and his family. Some had died before they reached the hospital, others…in transit, or even on her very table as her hands flew over their bodies, spells stumbling from her lips at a speed that some said was impossible, but…yet…it hadn't mattered; because in the end the result had been the same.

They had died.

Save for two.

One being best friend.

The very person who had caused her to _want_ to become a healer. Minerva. Yes, her family had all been killed, as had Albus…at least physically…and two of her children, a grandchild...countless friends; and yet, she had continued to slip past fates fickle touch, eluding that which so few whom she had come in to contact with ever had…and – it seemed now, more so than ever that her words her coming back to haunt her…in irony.

For she had become a premier healer…had saved thousands of lives…even saved her friends' lives…

Only to lose them.

All of them.

One by one.

Until now…there only remained Philip and Minerva. Philip having become a recluse and it had been close to a decade since she had spoken with him; Minerva making the pilgrimage to his homestead, annually. He would one day die, and the world would know little of the brilliant mind sequestered in the hills away from all noise and people; still ravaged by memories of war and loss. And…she could do nothing for him, as he had to _want_ help before she could help him.

And…Minerva…

Minerva…

Her dearest and most beloved friend.

Whom she would lose within the year to an affliction she could not heal.

Conjuring a blanket, Helena covered Adam's still form. His words from her childhood ringing in her ears…

_"…you won't be able to save them all..."_

"No, I won't." She whispered to herself, "But…God knows…I have tried."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione stopped skimming, and reread the text – aloud.

"While often postulated, there are no confirmed accounts from an accomplished witch or wizard who has been capable of becoming an animagus that there is a crossover from their animal traits while in human form. Being an animagus entails that a witch or wizard has the capability to maintain human consciousness while in animal form; and while the duality of the nature seems unlikely, to date there still remains no confirmed account."

"How in Merlin's beard have you and every other animagi kept it quiet?" Hermione snapped aloud in frustration. "I saw you do it this morning…" She pulled Minerva's journal to her, gently flipping through the pages. "You saw the Master you apprenticed with…"

Her eyes darted over the entry regarding Master Oakes…and the data she had regarding his crossover traits between himself, beagle and a spider.

_1946 January 22__nd__._

_Most noted crossover characteristics._

_ Spider –_

_At night, his eyes become almost black as spun glass; reflecting the light. Tonight was the fourth time this has occurred. He utilized his standard excuse that he has exceptional night vision and doesn't bother with candles or lanterns._

_Found a third small animal spun in silk. By far the animals are too large for a spider; two squirrels and one cardinal. Perhaps he transfigures into a beagle, maims the animal before killing them?_

_ Beagle –_

_Sense of smell. I had a nip of whisky0 two hours before I began lessons, and again, he could tell. *note to self – no more meetings with Helena or any of the gang before having a lesson with Master Oakes. In this instance, it hasn't been in my 'best' interest._

_Lack of hearing. As much as the former has been a detriment, this has been a blessing. Tonight, AB stopped by._

AB. _Aegis Black. _Hermione suddenly realized. What had Aegis stopped by for? Her eyes scanned ahead…not seeing any additional reference, and feeling a sense of forbidding and undeniable curiosity…as to the reason the elegant Slytherin had visited her. She had believed that they had stopped seeing each other before the end of the war. So…what would have prompted the visit? Hermione idly mused…the fire crackling in the background.

Obviously, something still existed between them after the war…but for how long?

And…how did she manage for no one to know?

Shaking her head at the foolish trail of thoughts, she…turned her attention back to the text and her journal; and forced her wondering focus to the task at hand.

_Innate characteristics._

Without effort, she pulled her laptop over and opened up the browser; typing in 'cat characteristics.'

The search instantly yielded over 13 million results…and she scanned the first page, scrolling back to the top and selecting one. 'Choosing a cat; breed characteristics.'

A smile tugging at the corners of her face as she waited for a browser to pull the information up, and she could only imagine how Minerva would react if she knew. But…it felt…oddly right; she was her friend after all. Wasn't she?

After a few moments, she had navigated to a page delineating out cat senses. Pulling a piece of parchment out, she began making notes.

_Cat_

_ Vision_

_Cat sight is excellent in poor light, only need 20 percent light. Able to see movement._

_During day, cats don't see as well as humans._

_Is this why Minerva wears glasses? Early pictures, doesn't wear glasses. _

Hermione paused, thinking back to the photo album she had been permitted to glance through. It had dated 1952-1953 and Minerva wasn't wearing glasses in any of the pictures. Was there a cause as to why she was wearing glasses, and if so…what had happened?

_ Taste_

_Less taste buds than humans._

_Can tell protein and fat necessary for survival; not very sensitive to sweetness or salt. Panache for Ginger Newts – always likes tea…_

_ Touch_

_Very sensitive to touch – is this why she rarely lets people near her?_

_Face, paws, whiskers – whiskers being the most sensitive. What would her whiskers be?_

_ Hearing_

_Can detect sounds three times higher than those human can detect_

_Able to determine source of sound with excellent accuracy. _

_ Smell*_

_Humans 5 mil vs cat 200 mil cells in their noses_

_Smell utilized as; communication, determine risk or pleasure, locate prey_

_ *Most potent sense. Need to watch and see if she uses this to determine whereabouts, who, etc. regarding her surroundings._

Hermione paused for a moment and before she began jaunting a flurry of notes along with questions, she moved the mouse to the back part of the browser; and then erased the word 'cat' and typed in 'wolf characteristics' and proceeded in selecting search.

A few quick clicks and Hermione was again scribbling down notes.

_Wolf_

_Vision_

_Not as great as a dogs; but night vision the best of the species_

_ Hearing_

_Excellent__, able to hear leaves falling from trees_

_Smell_

_Differentiate what food handlers have eaten…acute, but nowhere near as attuned as some dogs – definitely not as a cat._

_ Other – _

_Can travel over at a speed of 56-64km (34-38mph)_ _for up to 20 minutes._

_Monogamous, does not leave mate unless killed._

_Fur – can keep a wolf warm in up to -40 degrees._

A fourth scan revealed no additional information she wished to include, and a couple clicks later the browser was closed and her laptop shut off. Her notes…however, begged for attention, as did her thoughts.

Of the notes, what were the chances that Minerva had some of the noted characteristics? And…the more important question; which ones?

Did it matter if they crossed over between animals? Did weaker characteristics of one animal cancel out the stronger characteristics of the other animal? Or were characteristics not relegated by which was weaker or stronger; but the closer genetically?

She thought of the Minerva, the way she elegantly maneuvered her body…_like a cat._ She tried to relate each of the others senses to what she witnessed Minerva doing; and the only aspect she could confirm was that her hearing was more acute. Exactly how much more acute…she had no earthly idea.

She glanced at the list again, trying to ascertain how she would discover if Minerva possessed any of the above characteristics.

She thought of the All Hallows Eve feast…and Sir Nicolas' headless hunt. If Minerva didn't attend the feast or had and showed an adverse reaction to the foul smelling food…because if a cat's sense of smell was that much more acute…surely she would have shown some type of reaction. "Of course." She blurted out glancing to Godric. "Do you know where Sir Nicolas is?"

The portrait glanced at the texts and then back to Hermione. "He is in your classroom speaking with the Baron, would you like me to ask him here?"

Hermione stopped, having already grabbed her wand. "You can do that?"

Godric gave a coy smile, "Yes."

"And…he won't mind?" Hermione's face and voice indicating her uncertainty.

"He, like most of the portraits and other ghosts, cares for you; and is happy to serve."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what he meant by served, but Sir Nicolas was already materializing in her office.

"Godric said you were asking for me?"

"Ahhh," _How fast can the portraits and ghosts move through Hogwarts?_ "Yes," She glanced to Godric's portrait which was mysteriously empty all of a sudden. "I…am sorry if he disturbed you, it was nothing too important."

He shook his hand, "Nonsense, now, what is the question?"

"Its regarding your All Hallow's Eve party."

She watched as his face lit up, interest perked. "I am hoping this next year they will permit me entry into the headless hunt."

"As am I."

If at all possible, his grin became broader. "And while I am overjoyed at the notion, I am confident that is not why you asked me here."

Hermione dove into the topic feet first, "Unfortunately, no. I was wondering if the Headmistress has ever attended the event?"

The words hung on his lips as he blinked at her, obviously recalling years past. "Yes, annually."

Hermione's shoulders inadvertently sagged, not expecting his affirmation that she had attended; especially given how raunchy the food smelled to her…and she didn't have a heightened sense of smell.

"Although, despite many offerings, she has never eaten at the celebration."

_I'm sure._ Hermione inwardly replied, "Perhaps next year."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Helena was wondering if you are awake." Dilys asked Minerva who was diligently writing another letter.

"I have a moment." Minerva remarked, as she dipped her quill in the ink pot.

"Very well." Dilys replied, knowing that Helena was worried about her friend, but as she faded to the Harrison's, she pondered not relaying her words to the formidable woman. But, at seeing her eyes, knew she couldn't…Helena cared too much. "She has a moment if you want to stop by."

Helena grasped her wand, and was about to floo over, when she paused and returned to her kitchen. She opened her ice box…eyes glancing over the leftovers, until they landed upon the pink cellophane wrapped dessert from earlier. Without thought, she grasped the plate and with a smile in tow…swept to her fireplace, and ten seconds later was stepping from the grate of Minerva's office.

"I see only a quarter of Britain has sent you a letter."

Minerva didn't pause as she finished her thought, "There is one consolation."

"Oh?" Helena inquired, eyes sweeping over the stacks and stacks of letters waiting to be responded to. And she had thought the quantity of her mail was arduous…

"You were wise enough not to write me too."

Helena chuckled as Minerva signed her name with elegant efficiency. "True, and even wiser…for I brought us a piece of cheesecake that Jordan baked today." She smiled as Minerva glanced up to her at the word cheesecake. "And she even laced the top with a hint of elderberry sauce."

"And _you're_ sharing?" Minerva placed her quill back a top the blotter, already reaching for her walking stick.

A smile lacing Helena's face, "I know…I could hardly believe it myself."

"Coffee?"

"Sounds divine." Helena replied as Minerva stood.

"Elgin." She called out, gingerly making her way around her desk, trying to ignore the way Helena's experienced eye followed her every movement.

"Hip locked up?" Helena gently inquired.

"I fear that the stress and cold have taken a toll this past week."

"Mistress." Elgin appeared, grin breaking across his face at seeing Helena. "Blondie."

"Good evening Elgin." Helena stated, "I do hope you have been well."

"Yes, thank you. And you'se?"

"Far better after having a piece of Jordan's cake."

Elgin's eyes dropped to the plate in her hand, a knowing smile upon his face. "Coffee?"

"Yes, Elgin; but I'd like to take it upstairs."

"Of course." And with a pop he was gone, leaving the two long time friends alone.

"Stop by this week as your schedule allows, and I'll ensure that there are no bone fragments imbedded in the muscle tissue."

Minerva motioned for Helena to go ahead of her, "It'll take me a moment longer." She murmured.

"I have time."

Minerva pursed her lips, but otherwise, refrained from commenting. "I'll try Thursday or Friday, barring any unforeseen events."

"Your life epitomizes unforeseen."

"Then _you _are busy on both those days?" Minerva quipped as she pushed herself up the last step and into her living suite.

"Ha ha." Helena remarked, inwardly marveling at Elgin's expediency as a carafe was already waiting, along with two filled cups – one black and the other with a hint of cream, beside the creamer. "I'll be lucky to see you in two weeks time, but if by some miracle you are there next week; I will ensure to _be _available."

"The only unknown in my schedule this week, is the recall vote."

Helena groaned. "I still need to have Sarah clear my schedule for tomorrow morning."

"Anything of importance?" Sincerity lining her question.

"Mid-Friday I received a letter from Griphook stating that St. Mungos was recently named as a benefactor for one of his clients and wished to meet with me Monday morning at 9am. I had already rescheduled my weekly departmental meeting to accommodate Griphook's request…and now, I'll have to move it again."

Minerva shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. "Griphook asking for an audience bodes well, as he rarely involves himself in wizarding affairs of late."

Helena's eyes narrowed, "You don't have anything to do with it, do you?"

"Only with you having to move your schedule." _Twice._ She thought to herself, knowing why Griphook was seeking an audience with Helena, but…she was not about to divulge her own business matters. Especially as Griphook would be making the call for her, enabling her to keep her anonymity. "Because of the recall vote." She finished.

"For that…" She paused in cutting the cake, "I may keep both halves."

"Do you truly wish Kingsley to hold the office any longer?"

Her lips pinched, "I never would have spoken with Milan three weeks ago if I believed him a capable Minister."

"Helena…"

"I'm just worried." She stated softly as she divided the creamy sweet in two. "Tomorrow will be anything _but _pleasant for you. As he'll be there, casting aspersions…wild accusations and I…" She slid half onto a second plate, pushing to Minerva as she lifted her gaze. "Do not want to hear what he has to say about my best friend."

Minerva's eyes followed the plate's movement and with a deft hand, she took offered piece before raising her eyes back to Helena. A warm expression lighting her eyes, "It will be for one more day, my dear." She raised her fork, "One that I will gladly give if it means that he is no longer the Minister."

"He may try and use your family against you."

"I have no illusions, Helena." Minerva cut into the cheesecake, mouth watering at the thick creamy scent already gracing her senses. "As to what I have potentially unleashed."

Blue eyes held green for a moment, "And Albus?"

"He doesn't know who I am married to, only that I did have four children; having lost two."

"He can't trace…who they are?"

Minerva slowly shook her head, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Albus and I were…are secret keepers for our family's identity."

"That's why the children were never able to divulge who their parents were…"

"And why we made up the names Katherine and Brian…"

"So they'd be able to tell their friends something."

Minerva took a bit, enjoying the way the creamy substance coated her mouth, the hint of elderberry bursting across her taste buds. "This…" Minerva swallowed part of her bite, "Is excellent."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Despite her fatigue, Minerva forced herself to finish extricating her hair pins…manually. Because in a few months, magic for such mundane matters would not be an option…and she needed the practice. She pulled the second to last pin out, hair fully tumbling downwards, save for her right side…which followed suite mere moments later. The white streak in her hair instantly becoming prevalent, as was her sigh.

Helena had been accurate, in that tomorrow, Kingsley would throw everything within his power at her…in an effort to undermine her credibility and the veracity of her claim for the recall vote.

And…as tired eyes met their reflection, she couldn't help but feel…old.

And exhausted.

"February." She quietly uttered, "I just have to hold on through February." No longer sure…she could make it.

Shaking her head, she dispelled the grime thought as turned on the water and splashed it on her face. She needed to keep her thoughts clear, focused and on anything but what the future would bring.

Because, she knew it only would bring more pain. Brown eyes momentarily stared back at her…and she blinked away the water droplets to once again see her reflection.

And if at all possible, she suddenly felt worse as her thoughts immediately went to Hermione. The incredible woman…who…while she couldn't afford to feel more than friendship for…was fast becoming that which it couldn't.

She was bound for Merlin's sake!

Not that they had been getting along well of late…

"Dammit!" She snapped, swiping her hand across vanity top; glass flying into the wall and shattering outwards, fracturing the mirror and splaying across the bathroom floor.

* * *

Xoxo

_A/N: Still reading? If so, hope you enjoyed. And I'll see ya in a couple of weeks.  
_


	56. Chapter 53 December 9th, 2009

**Chapter 53 ~ December 9****th**** 2009 (Wednesday)**

Hermione skimmed the article again, utterly elated. Arthur Weasley had been named the Minister of Magic on Monday in what amounted to a landslide recall vote ousting Kingsley from the position.

**Arthur Weasley ~ Minister of Magic**

There splattered across the front page was a picture of Arthur being sworn in. Beneath the picture was another one, one…that drew her attention. Arthur and Minerva shaking hands…before she leaned forward and embraced him a hug as she mouthed what could be easily discerned as 'Congratulations'. Her eyes remained with the esteemed witch as the picture reset, she had known that Kingsley had been a hellacious drain upon Minerva personally and professionally; but she hadn't known how intensely until now. She could see it in the way her features weren't masked, an easy smile flowing over her face.

At the very least, Arthur's appointment would mean that Harold and the Unspeakable division would not be tracking Minerva. Along with who knew how many other countless areas that were affecting her friend.

_Perhaps…things will continue to go our way._

She picked up her cup of coffee as a soft pop resonated next to her. "Good morning, Bonnie."

The matron elf gave a curt nod, "And to you."

"I'm sure you have heard, but Arthur Weasley was sworn in last evening as the new Minister of Magic."

"The news warmed my heart." Bonnie continued on, in Gaelic. _"As do most things that eases Minerva's life."_

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "I understood do, most, and Minerva; what was the rest?"

A crooked smile spread over worn features, _"It is time to learn that which you do not know."_

Hermione sighed, "Alright. I get it," She fought down her own frustration, knowing that Bonnie would not divulge what she had just stated. It was _her _job to learn it. And so…her day began. _"How are you?"  
_

_ "A bit tired this morning. You?"_

Hermione repeated the phrase she didn't know. "_…tired?"_

"Fatigued, tired." Bonnie translated.

_"Why?"_ Hermione questioned.

_"Preparation for the Holiday event."_

Hermione's face twisted, "A bit more help, as I did not understand _preparation or holiday_."

_"You didn't answer how you were."_

_ "Good." _Hermione stated, and found herself elaborating as a smile inadvertently graced her lips. _"Better after..._reading the Prophet."

_"Reading." _Bonnie converted into Gaelic.

_"Reading."_ Hermione repeated.

Bonnie nodded, _"Good. Again."_

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione inadvertently glanced to the clock, _Filius was late…it was three past seven. _She had hoped that Minerva would be conducting the training this evening, enabling her to speak with Minerva and offer congratulations. But…there had been no inference stating that it would not be Filius leading her to believe that Minerva had other plans for the evening as she had not been at dinner. She was probably having a celebratory drink with Helena and Harold…

The door opened interrupting her thoughts, and she turned, Filius' name upon her lips…only to see Minerva stride through the door.

A smile easily breaking across her face. "Minerva."

"My apologies for being late." She stated, her walking stick pinging against the wood floor. "Dinner took a bit longer with the Minister."

"How is Arthur?"

"A bit overwhelmed," Minerva slipped off her cloak, "But, I believe that within a few weeks, he'll be doing quite well."

"Has he rescinded the Unspeakable unit?"

Minerva peeled her hat off, banishing it to her rooms. "This morning." A look of relief flashing from her eyes. "Though, the team did relay to the Minister that they had a rather difficult time with their charge and while no longer assigned per se in watching my movements, they would like to continue on as they do not know how I was able to travel without them tracking my whereabouts."

"Harold said this?" She asked, disbelieving that Harold would desire to track or rather try and track Minerva considering the strife it placed within their friendship.

"The team assigned did dear." Minerva waved her hand, and a tray with two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid appeared. "As they did not believe Harold would because of his association with me."

"I can't believe they went around him."

"Don't think of it as going around him, rather trying to solve a mystery that they know Harold is not keen on solving. Harold will do what is ordered by the Minister regarding my affairs, nothing more."

"And they know this."

Minerva unstopped the bottle, lifting it with practiced ease. "Of course. His team is well aware of my close relationship to Helena and subsequently Harold."

"So, why would they ask to continue?"

Minerva finished pouring one glass and pointed to other, eyes asking a silent question to which Hermione gave a nod to. "It is an oddity for an Unspeakable team to not be able to track a person."

"One, that I am sure, you are relishing."

A smile quirked the corner of Minerva's lips as Hermione took her glass, "Quite."

"And Arthur told all of this to you?" Hermione was moderately shocked that Arthur had shared all of this with her.

"No." Minerva stated without elaborating.

"Harold?" Hermione's curiosity getting the better of her.

Minerva's brow arched, a quaint smile lighting her eyes. "They both divulged slightly more than they should have, yet neither one shared it all."

Hermione knew there was more to the story, but it was unlikely she'd learn the whole of it. "To…mysteries." Hermione quietly toasted, wondering how many more the woman before her held. And how many…_she _would discover.

"To friends." Minerva remarked as their glasses clinked together before she took a hearty swallow; feeling her muscles along her neck ease for the first time in almost a week…the weight of the Minister beginning to wane.

"If you don't mind me asking, why did the Unspeakable team have difficulties tracking you?"

Hermione's question, while not unexpected, did make her pause and reflect on _how_ much to share with the younger woman. Her internal debate was momentarily silenced as she downed the remainder of her whisky. Only to see brown eyes waiting for an answer to a question, that she shouldn't be answering. Yet, she found herself giving way…even if it was only half way…perhaps it was because of the softness of her eyes… "The primary reason is that I live at Hogwarts."

"And the warding structure prevents a trace."

"Correct."

Hermione felt her eyes narrow, "But that only amounts to when you are here; what about when you are at your home or even at the Ministry or other locations?"

"The family property has blood wards that are as strong as Hogwarts."

"And from the other locations?" Hermione watched as emerald eyes sparkled with mirth in the low lighting.

"I do believe it is time for you to begin training." Minerva nodded to the floor, "Filius stated your last three practices have centered around dueling and that he noted your deflection skills continue to improve."

A surge of hope pulsed in Hermione's heart at the mere notion that she would be dueling Minerva, dampening out her curiosity regarding the Unspeakable activity. How could she not? Minerva was a formidable witch, and…she had never truly dueled her. And…she wanted to. Who wouldn't? But almost as quickly as the thought formed, Minerva read it as it flashed across her features.

"And while you have been dueling Filius," She poured herself another ample glass. "Our lessons for the foreseeable future will be relegated to form, theory and strategy. And before you ask why," Setting the bottle down, "Let us assume that we dispute the topic for several minutes, until I…" She let her fingers dangle over her tumbler for a minute, "Finally appease you with this shred of information." Before picking the glass up, eyes locking with Hermione's. "After recent events," She found herself pausing, forcing herself to correct her time allocation to maintain the appearance that she needed to. "Ten days ago…"

"The night with Harry." Hermione murmured.

Minerva gave a solitary nod, not wanting to lie. "Helena suggested that I minimize my magical use to essentials unless necessary for a few weeks."

Hermione's blood turned cold. She had known that Minerva had expended an enormous amount of magic to save Harry's life, but…for Helena to suggest that she not use magic… "Minerva, how bad was the drain?"

Green eyes never moved, staring straight into brown ones. She should have said that she'd be fine in a few weeks; that she had nothing to worry about; that they'd be able to laugh about their escapades next summer while preparing lesson plans for the following year…but she couldn't. Because, they weren't true and she didn't have the energy to obfuscate anymore. "Acute."

"Minerva…"

Long, slender fingers of her right hand lifted up and Hermione's words died on her lips as her thick contralto voice rumbled across the expanse between them. "Let this be."

Hermione's mouth opened again, but she found herself unable to pursue the question at the heartfelt gaze being cast upon her. And…she found herself asking the far more important, and pertinent question. "But you'll be alright?"

Minerva lifted her glass to her lips, "With time." She muttered before swallowing another lie, taking a deep breath and clearing her throat along with her thoughts. "Now, this evening."

Hermione nodded, feigning a smile. "Yes," She found herself setting an empty glass down on the table, not recalling how she had finished off the amber liquid. "What do you have in store for me today?"

"We are going to see how much you've been practicing the counter spell for the Cruciatus curse."

"Today?" Hermione's pulse jumped, "I thought you said…"

"Dueling and casting a singular spell," She finished off her second glass of malt. "Are quite different."

"Ahhh," She could feel a cold sweat break across her skin, "I, ahhh…"

"Haven't been practicing." Minerva finished, feeling mildly relieved at the reprieve she had been granted at not having to cast the damning spell upon Hermione. Though, if she had known, she probably wouldn't have drank quite as much before, during and now after dinner.

Hermione's cheeks flushed, "I'm sorry; it's just…with everything."

"It's important, Hermione." Minerva unnecessarily reiterated, her relief transforming into a mild annoyance. Because…despite the reprieve, she had psychologically prepared herself to cast the Cruciatus curse this evening, for naught. "You have one week. Liberio."

"Liberio." Hermione easily repeated, causing Minerva's brow to arch at the correct pronunciation and a more detailed explanation to fall from Hermione's lips. "I practiced the first week, its just…after everything I figured that it could wait."

Inwardly, Minerva wished it could too, however, the reality was that it couldn't. While her grammar sounded thorough, she couldn't take the chance that Hermione didn't know how to successfully cast the spell. Because, all too soon, Minerva wouldn't be here to train her; and there were not many people who were still alive who could…or would. "It cannot and is very important. And for that I am sorry that I have not made time to work with you."

"Minerva, in the last month…"

"I am very much aware of what the last month has entailed, Hermione." Her words holding a steely conviction, "But, this is important too." She set her tumbler down, "Very important."

"Why?" Hermione questioned, "As I don't see how it's more important than saving Harry or Ron on the off chance I'm struck with the Cruciatus curse. And even then, we always travel in twos…" Her voice trailed off, eyes narrowing at Minerva. "Is there something you aren't telling me?" She took a step closer, hair suddenly standing up on end along the back of her neck. "Minerva…" She felt her breathe hitch and stomach plummet as a flash of something…passed across Minerva's features. "What's wrong?"

Knowing that her mask was on the verge of failing her, Minerva dropped her gaze letting a wistful smile cross her face. _She should have known that Hermione would ask, and will continue to…as it is in her nature, _Minerva thought while pondering if it was truly wise to have another glass of Malt.

"Minerva…"

She felt a hand tentatively along her upper arm, and Minerva slowly lifted watery eyes to meet concerned brown ones. Less than a meter separating them…as they stared at the other, seconds quietly passing by unnoticed.

One…trying to ascertain what news could possibly bring _her_ to tears…compassion mixing with heartache as the seconds stretched onward, and a tear slipped off ebony lashes.

The other…struggling to maintain what remained of her stoicism as she silenced her own musing and thoughts; knowing that for a moment, her eyes were as open as a book…and she buried the truth beneath the shattered remnants of her soul.

Then…it was gone…

And Minerva…the woman who hid behind the wall, returned; a teary expression still upon her features…but a tender smile were already curling her lips as she reached up with her opposite hand, patting Hermione's. "Ruminations." She quietly remarked, "And as for…" She cleared her throat, "The other, it is important, dear." _Very important._

Concern and trepidation lined Hermione's features, "Alright…" She muttered, more to herself than to Minerva. Not at all believing what Minerva had just stated, but knowing that now was not the time to push. _ Research and patience…_she inwardly repeated, trying to assuage her thoughts. "I'll practice."

Minerva nodded, "Good."

"I…" Hermione paused, debating. "Was wondering if you had time to finish our previously started game of chess?"

"After practice?"

"I thought…"

A genuine smile lit up Minerva's face, "That your practice was done?"

"Ahhh…" A look of chagrin passed over Hermione's features, a rosy blush immediately following. "Mistakenly, yes." She admitted, "However, _after_ we finish, perhaps…then a game of chess."

Minerva, albeit internally torn in her response, was already shaking her head. "I'm afraid that my correspondence has overridden my office, and while a game of chess sounds lovely. I have a bit of work to finish before I retire for the evening."

"Then we should begin, as I have no doubt that there are letters piled as high as your windows." Hermione half heartedly quipped, knowing full well the truth regarding Minerva's correspondence. If said she was behind, then…she could only imagine what that entailed.

"Only in half the office." Minerva bantered back. "Now, have you and Neville had time to dance once or twice since we last did?"

A second look of chagrin in as many minutes passed over soft features. "Only two."

Minerva's sharp mind retraced their practices…along with the last month, her frustration at Hermione's lack of diligence dissipating. She had been extremely busy too, not counting having to find time to spend with her children…something Minerva no longer _had_ to do, but like Hermione still found time to do. Even if only for a fraction of the time both Tessa and Percival wished it to be. "Alright," She stepped into the large expanse, soft music suddenly fluttering across the room. "Then let us continue on with the lesson."

Hermione squelched her sudden apprehension as she took several steps forward, and stopping opposite of Minerva. The last time they had danced, she had…stepped on her feet over a half dozen times…and…the mere thought of doing it again…

"I am sure, you'll do fine." Minerva reached up, taking her glasses off and tucking them into her robes.

It was rare for Minerva not to wear her glasses, and Hermione's heart innately skipped a beat at the notion…and almost gasped aloud as green eyes blinked and looked at her. Her voice remained normal, as did her face…with effort, but internally she marveled at how different the woman before her looked, without glasses. Especially this close. "I hope so," She willingly took one more half step forward, one hand meeting Minerva's…the other resting upon the edge of her shoulder. "Or I'll owe you another foot massage."

A low chuckle rumbled ever so brief across Minerva's lips as her left hand slipped to Hermione's waist. "Ready?" She inquired, as she listened to the faint notes…years of experience telling her when would be a suitable time to begin…and at Hermione's nod…a half beat later, Minerva began to move…followed instantly by Hermione.

Minerva could feel Hermione's unease, the rigidity of her back…the stiffness of her arms…the almost robotic form trying to glide beside her. "Remember, slow…slow, quick…quick." Minerva murmured in time with their movements, "And let the rest of your body relax."

"I just…don't want to step on your feet." Hermione's gaze momentarily flickering up to Minerva's and away from the floor.

"You won't." Minerva easily turning them, "As your brilliance extends far beyond the confines of a book."

Despite _wanting_ to drop her gaze to look at the floor, Minerva's comment stilled her eyes. "Thank you."

"Merely stating the obvious Hermione," Minerva's candidness surprising Hermione. "You are the brightest witch of the age, in all walks of life."

"I believe that title is currently held." Hermione returned.

"Ahh…" Minerva's eyes sparkled with emotion. "But, with your aptitude and skill; I believe it will be yours before long. As you are the most gifted witch I have ever seen."

"That is what I would say regarding you." Hermione didn't think, her feet moving in time with Minerva as she turned them effortlessly again. "I have seen you do things with magic that are truly spectacular, and beyond the scope of traditional magic."

"As will you." Minerva innately replied, "Given time."

"Perhaps with your help."

Minerva spun Hermione away, giving herself a moment reprieve to recollect her own thoughts and do what was needed…and two steps later…her hands fell easily upon Hermione's waist as she pulled her back in time with the music. "Perhaps." She stated, "But, you seem to do quite well without it."

"I don't think that is necessarily the whole truth." Hermione rebuked, not understanding the elder woman's commentary. "You have taught me so much this year, and without your and Filius' tutelage I…"

"Would still learn what we have taught, or most of what we have taught you. What I was inferring, is that you have an uncanny thirst for knowledge that has and will continue to propel you into realms so few delve and in conjunction with your intellect…will have you surpassing my accomplishments within two decades and probably sooner."

"Nonsense, Minerva" Hermione rebuffed, "Especially in Transfiguration. You're a world renowned master, one of the best – if not the best in the field. And, what of you; you'll have another two decades of research, publications and who knows what else within that time."

_Ahhh…how wrong you are as most of my research has long since stopped…and the little that has continued will go unpublished and unknown, as it will die with me. _"Twenty years is a long time," Minerva stated aloud, "Let us get through this one, and revisit it."

"Yes…" Hermione agreed, "Perhaps over our summer holiday, with a clear head, rested, and no looming threats."

Minerva easily recalled their morning conversation from last week and her remark about the need for a long vacation over the summer…and Hermione's quip about joining her. "There is a quaint village off the Isle that fits the criteria; and affords both rest and anonymity."

"Where?" Curiosity easily prevalent in her tone.

A flicker of a memory flashed, and Minerva recalled the last time she and Albus had visited their home in Khania, a small town along the Mediterranean. Their home was nestled in the cliffs, looking down… "It's on the Isle of Crete."

"Why not go there before summer, and take a few days respite? You are exhausted, and the last few months have been anything but…relaxing."

_Because how do you take off all the responsibility, the weight of it all…and after a few days, put it all back on…willingly? _"Albeit tempting, it is not something I have time for before or after the holidays. But, I shall keep it in mind."

"Please do, Minerva." Hermione's voice came out in a hushed whisper, as her body spun away from Minerva, the music shifting.

"We made it through a whole song." Minerva brought Hermione back to her, but stepped away as the new song started. "With my feet very much intact."

A wry smile spread across Hermione's face, "Apparently anything is possible."

"And let us see how you manage, blindfolded."

"Ahhh…" Hermione felt the words clog in her throat as Minerva held out a blindfold. "I don't think that is…wise." She murmured while taking the proffered cloth.

"I have faith." Minerva's right hand innately dropped to her hip, the joint throbbing in time with her pulse. For several reasons, she'd need to visit with Helena. Her fingers, pushing upon the sore muscles along the outside of her thigh, Hermione pausing as her eyes fastened upon Minerva's actions. Causing Minerva to inwardly chastise herself for her comfort around the younger woman…and not waiting another two minutes, as Hermione would have been blindfolded…and not seen her discomfort.

"Are you sure you're up to continuing?" Hermione inquired, concern emanating from brown eyes.

"Quite." Minerva shifted her weight to not make it as obvious that her hip was anything less than optimal. "It is an inconvenience, one I have lived with for over a decade. Now," She nodded to the blindfold. "If you please."

Hermione reached up, a dubious expression clouding her eyes, but her world blackened as she placed the cloth over her face. "I'm sorry, in advance." She stated aloud, head remaining riveted to where the elder woman had been moments before.

"Nonsense." Minerva's lilt moving from her prior location, and Hermione turned slightly, trying to follow her voice. "You'll do fine, just focus on our movement."

Hermione's voice softened, feeling Minerva draw near. "I hope so."

Pausing, Minerva's gaze briefly rested upon Hermione. She had lost a bit of weight; and from the fatigue lining her eyes, it was apparent, she was not sleeping well either. Squelching the emotional pull, Minerva reached out…her hand easily finding Hermione's waist and other hand as Hermione stepped into the dance construct between them…a rush of almond, vanilla, and oatmeal laced with a hint of chalk, ink, and parchment from her day…and Minerva forced herself to stop analyzing the rich, heady scent. The one that she had long since associated as _Hermione's_. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded, straining to listen to the faint music….and feel the woman's subtle movements. Surprisingly, she felt a muscle ripple…shoulder's move…and Minerva had begun…

The first several steps were stilted, awkward, and on two occasions…she bumbled, stepping on Minerva's foot before her timing matched Minerva's. By the second strand of music, Hermione could feel her own muscles beginning to relax as they moved about the dance floor…her own comfort with the dance and Minerva's movements becoming apparent.

"Now…let's invert our arms." Minerva stated, sliding her left arm upward and forcing Hermione's down to her waist, while hers settled along Hermione's shoulder. "Feel the muscles along my side expand as we move…as so." Minerva indicated as they turned.

"Your right arm dips slightly too."

"Yes." Minerva moved them in time with the music.

"Balance." Hermione felt the muscles move jointly.

"You merely have to understand what is connected and what is not."

"If only…" Hermione jerked her body into the next set of steps, "It were that easy."

"For you it is becoming easier."

"True." Hermione acknowledged, feeling the muscle beneath her hand shift and she moved her body in parallel to Minerva based upon the subtle shift. Several quiet steps followed, Hermione trying to understand the feel of muscles to subtle shifts in the way Minerva moved them about the floor. "Do you mind a question?" Hermione asked as they started the beginning of a fourth song.

Green eyes focused back on soft lines, "By all means."

"Your glasses." Hermione could feel rather than see the way Minerva's muscles tightened, as if a shroud had befallen her…the way her mask typically fell about her face. And…despite being blindfolded, she could _see_ the way Minerva's face became hidden behind an emotionally distant wall.

"Yes?" Minerva inquired, trying to remain relaxed and relatively unguarded as she responded…knowing full well how her reaction was seen…albeit not physically, they were dancing. And it had shown, whether intended or not.

"Are you near or far sighted?"

"I fear I am dreadfully…nearsighted."

"Yet you wear them while reading?"

"Bifocals that are another indication that the years seem to travel by with great speed."

Hermione recalled Minerva and Albus' wedding album, and the innumerable pictures contained within. Not in one of them, was Minerva wearing glasses. And her…animagus typically held very good vision… "Did you have an accident after your marriage?"

Minerva's heart leapt, Hermione's startling intellect and analytical mind quickly assessing the facts. One, that she had no viable answer to that would satisfy her…save for the truth; and she was not intent to share that. "Several, why do you ask?"

"In your marriage photo album and the other handful of pictures when you were younger, you did not wear glasses. Nor do your children, unless Esmerele and Callum did. And if both you and Albus had a vision impairment, then genetically one and probably more of your children would. So, I was wondering if you had an accident that adversely affected your eyesight?"

Despite her every effort, Minerva felt her own steps falter…causing Hermione's fingers to tighten and her movements to become stilted. As…she was no longer upon safe ground, nor in any way able to deflect Hermione without giving _something_ away; because while Hermione couldn't see her…she was close to her. Fingers splayed across her waist, hand within her own…steps gliding in sync with hers…and no matter how well she was able to still her face or even her voice behind decades of practice…she couldn't lie with her body. "I did not have an accident." Minerva replied, wishing the damning song would end.

"Then how did you become farsighted?" Hermione could feel the continued rigidity in Minerva's form, and she couldn't help but wonder…why.

"Several years ago…I had a life altering event that…permanently impaired my vision." Minerva stopped, stepping away from Hermione.

"I didn't mean…" Hermione reached up pulling the blindfold from her eyes, "To...upset you. But…I cannot help my curiosity." Minerva's expression was reserved…yet, contemplative. "As, you appeared to have excellent vision and at some juncture, you began wearing glasses…and while most do not find it odd; I cannot help but wonder why. I have skimmed over almost fifty years of Prophets, and not once did it state of an accident that left you permanently injured to the point of wearing glasses. So, forgive me, when you say life altering…what does that mean?" She mentally tracked back through the Prophets, "And it had to have been before the late 80's, because by that time, your golden rectangular frames were as synonymous as Albus' half moon ones."

_Ohh, how too true._ Minerva thought, knowing that at this point no matter her response, it would be anything but…truthful. Because, Hermione was right. It had been before the late 80's, about fifteen years prior to. And…because of her time at Hogwarts, no one could place when she started wearing glasses…only that…she did. However, she knew the exact moment that caused her vision to become…less than savory, as did Albus. For his became immeasurably better, while hers…far worse. "It means that something happened, Hermione. And…" She opted for a semblance of truth, "While it was incredible on so many levels, there were drawbacks. One being my vision. And as for seeing it in the Prophet, you would not. As what occurred was personal." _Deeply personal, _she finished.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva stepped from the shower, her hip pulling as she did…causing a moan to slip from her lips. _Damn, at this rate…she'd need to see Helena sooner than anticipated._ She mused, wandlessly summoning a towel, her magic straining…an audible sigh leaving her lips in frustration.

Gently, she patted herself dry before wrapping the towel about her. She lifted her hand to cast the simple cleaning charm on the shower, and shook her head…forcing herself to leave it. She could not afford the simple act of magic, no matter her desire to cast it. She paused and cast weary eyes upon her reflection. The circles beneath her eyes, while not oppressively dark as they had been even last month, were still prevalent. Eyes sunken in…as were her cheeks…and her once vibrant irises had become glazed. The sheen of her hair muted…and the first hint of gray forming along her right temple. The stress from the last few months visibly taking a toll.

And…as her eyes gazed across her skin…she noted that she had lost a bit too much weight from her lack of appetite and irregular hours…something she could ill afford as she had never been large in stature. Green narrowed at the milky marks spread across her chest…upper right arm…inside both forearms…her scars standing out. Another sign of her overbearing fatigue.

"Fortitude." She murmured, trying to believe it as she gathered her evening gown and limped into her bedroom.

"Your hip seems worse." Albus stated as she gripped the doorframe for support, pausing for a breath as she did.

"It is sore, nothing more." She remarked, willing the pain to momentarily abate while striding across the handful of steps remaining to the bed.

His lips tightened in disbelief, knowing full well how her hip was engorged in pain. The last three hours, he had been pacing back forth in the Ridge's portrait, no longer able to sit from the discomfort. "While at dinner with Arthur, I agree."

With a gentle tug, the towel fell from her moist skin. "I have taken a pain potion, as you well know, and it is becoming less…intense. And," She slipped her arms up through the material, "I will make every effort to see Helena tomorrow to see if there is another bone chip in the joint."

Albus watched as the silk fabric slipped tantalizingly down his wife's delectable curves. "You are beautiful, my love."

She pulled the sheet, blanket and comforter back. "I wish you were here," She yawned, "I'm so tired and would love nothing more than having you hold me tonight."

"As would I." Tenderness lacing his words. "Arthur…rescinded the Unspeakables?"

"He confirmed that," She eased into bed. "At dinner. Along with giving me a most interesting file that I had Elgin take to the Manor."

"File? On what?" Albus' curiosity piqued.

"Me." Minerva shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, "It seems the Ministry has been collecting data for several years…the latest entries are from the Unspeakable division."

"And…Arthur gave you the file?" Albus couldn't help wonder, why.

Minerva could feel his doubt and concern; it mirrored hers from earlier. "Yes…"

_Arthur reached into his robes, pulling a small parcel out. "And this is the second reason." He slid it across the table towards Minerva._

_Minerva took proffered item, brows knit together as she enlarged it…and immediately noted that it was a large file. She paused, eyes glancing upwards to his, seeking permission…and with a nod, she opened the cover. Her heart stopping at seeing a picture of herself…decades younger. _

_ It was a file on her._

_ She found herself torn between wanting to skim through the contents and shouting at the top of her lungs as to why the Ministry had such a file on her. She opted for a slightly more…professional approach._

_ "And…I am assuming you are showing me this for…a reason, Minister?"_

_ "That…along with a handful of other files…were kept in a vault by the Ministry. And…as the Minister, I…am giving you the file to do with it what you will. As there…" He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling insignificant next to the woman before him, "Is information contained within…that I do not believe…anyone has a right to know."_

_ Dread swelled in her stomach at what could possibly be contained within the file, "Then you have read it?"_

"Did he tell you why?" Albus' concern for their family, their life…everything they had sought to protect...dampening out her fatigue.

She lifted her head ever so much, eyes narrowing to see his outline. "You." She whispered, a tear sliding down her lashes. "The Unspeakables discovered that you and I had married…"

_"I'm sorry." Arthur whispered, tears pooling in his blue eyes. "So, very sorry for your loss, Minerva."  
_

_ She found herself swallowing the oppressive lump in her throat, tears blurring her own vision at his proclamation. "Thank…you, Arthur." She trembled in response._

_ A subtle shake sloshing the liquid in his glass as he raised his hand, "To you…Albus…and…" A gentle, knowing smile broke across his visage. "All that you both were and are…and all that no one will ever know or understand on what you both have sacrificed; on behalf of the wizarding world…" His voice dropped, "I thank you."_

"From Harold?" She could feel his sudden pulse of anger. "Helena?"

"Esmerele's DNA." Minerva rebutted, immediately squelching his thought line. "Kingsley exhumed the body."

"How did he get pass the protections?" Albus' eyes blazed, "And why on earth didn't Harold tell you? Or Helena? As St. Mungos would have to verified the DNA."

"First, Harold didn't know." She snapped, "Nor did Helena. And you damn well know if either had known, they would have told me."

"You're of course, right. My apologies." He ran a hand through his hair, "But, that doesn't negate the fact that his team and at some point, he…"

"Albus…" She hissed. "He _didn't_ know."

"Without the Unspeakable division, how did Kingsley bypass the warding you placed on her grave?"

She pushed herself upright, "Because I'm not _you_."

He bristled at her remark, a stray thought telling him not to push…but…passion and reason, did not always mix. "What in Merlin's beard is that suppose to mean?"

"You're the smartest wizard of the age," She flung her covers off, no longer tired. "Figure it out."

"Minerva, this _is_ serious."

"No," She summoned her walking stick and glasses, adorning the thin frames…his face clearly snapping into focus. "It is not as Arthur gave me the file."

"If Kingsley was able to discover our union…"

"It's over, Albus." She drew near, voice sounding defeated. "The new Minister is thankful for all that we have done for the wizarding world…and has permanently closed the investigation into me…and subsequently you and our family. Besides…" Her brogue thickly lacing her words, "In less than six months, the only people left who it will matter to, will be Tessa and Percival…as we'll both be dead."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione tiredly pushed her hand through her hair, closing another Prophet. One from April 12th, 1978…Minerva was wearing glasses in that one too. She rifled through the pile on her table, until she found one far enough back…October 7th, 1968.

Absently, she lifted her tea cup as she flipped open the paper…eyes quickly scanning the pictures for a younger version of Minerva. _Well…not too young,_ she mentally corrected. _It's not like…she's changed much in…_her thought stopped at seeing a picture with her next to a group of transfiguration peers, without her glasses.

"That gives me a ten year window." Hermione closed the paper, setting it aside.

"Miss….Hermione's." Milksy appeared to her left. "Is you'se needing more tea?"

Brown eyes flickered to the stack of Prophets, and back to the young house elf. "No…well…" She was tired, needed to sleep…but… "Perhaps one more pot."

"And," A gnarled finger lifted upwards, "Will I'se be taking these back tonight?"

Hermione fought off a grin, knowing full well how Irma would be in the morning with thirty years of Prophets missing from her library. And…she'd tell the one person, she didn't want to know. "I'm done with over half, and you may begin taking those back."

Relief passed over her face, "Very well." She stated, "I'se gets your tea and begin."

"Thank you." Hermione murmured already pulling another Prophet from the stack. One with the date…stemming from 1973. Twelve Prophets later, she found one that housed Minerva's picture and found herself frowning at seeing that she…was wearing glasses. "How far back…did this happen?" She muttered aloud, closing the paper…and reaching for another one…from farther back.

Two hours later, Hermione glanced between the two pictures…and the dates. The last time Minerva was pictured, publicly by the Prophet without her glasses was February 14th, 1972…as one of Britain's most eligible bachelorettes'. _How little did they know…_

The second picture was the first time she appeared in the Prophet wearing glasses…which occurred over ten months later, December 22nd, 1972.

Two things didn't make sense…

The first being that she had gone ten months in the Prophet without being pictured, which….was an anomaly all by itself. Typically, she had been featured or even partially shown at Wizengamout meetings, galas, Hogwarts…any innumerable reasons, all of which still occurred – but without her in the picture.

The second…she looked at the small article on the front cover of the Prophet dated September 1st, 1972.

**Hogwarts Headmaster Late in Returning**

_The Board of Governors has granted a short term sabbatical to their current Headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress, Minerva Katherine McGonagall. Board chair, Alayah Aves was quoted on the matter, "Filius has been appointed the interim Headmaster until Albus or Minerva return from their assistive efforts in Egypt."_

Hermione had gone on to read that scholars from around the world had traveled to Egypt that summer, as they had found a pyramid to the south of The Great Pyramid…that was beneath the ground, and built entirely by magic.

_Perhaps something happened while there?_ Hermione had initially thought, her gut…not really believing the notion. But…she knew of the find. How could she not? It was one of the greatest historical finds in the last two hundred years – the pyramid had been discovered by Gregory Ursaun, a muggle. Not that he remembered. But, there was a great pictorial rendition of the find published in the 70's. Hermione, asked Milksy to bring it to her…and after another hour, she had been greeted by thousands of faces, but as she suspected…not once did she see Albus or Minerva.

"What happened that year?" She asked glancing back to the two Prophet pictures housing Minerva. "That you…" Her eyes dropped to the headline, and then back up to her pictures. "Both of you were late in returning to Hogwarts, and upon returning…you needed to wear glasses…"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Played a bit of hooky on Tuesday…enabling me a few uninterrupted hours to finish this chapter. As always…I truly hope you enjoyed and thank you so very much to those of you who have reviewed. Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels. With luck…you'll see an update…soon._


	57. Chapter 54 December 10th, 2009

_A/N: Two chapters in under a week...aren't days off awesome! Enjoy._

**Chapter 54 ~ December 10****th**** 2009 (Thursday)**

Helena poured herself a steaming cup of coffee, as Minerva sipped hers. "Sleep well?"

"Your medical journal did wonders for calming my mind." Minerva quipped eliciting a half smile from her dear friend.

"Minerva…" Harold glanced to his wife and then back to Minerva, hand absently tying his robe as he stepped farther into the kitchen…veering towards their friend and leaning over, giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Good morning."

"And to you Harold." She reached around, giving him a hug and kiss in return.

"Everything alright?" He questioned as Helena handed him a cup of coffee. "Sugar?"

"Have to add it dear." She responded, as she too turned to Minerva.

He gave a nod, and in a blink he was adding a lump to his coffee. "Minerva…" He questioned again. "What's happened?"

"I merely needed a respite." She feigned a smile, while absently twirling her cup between her fingers, "And figured that Helena would be able to cure my insomnia."

Before he could ask what had spurred her sudden bout of insomnia, Harold felt his curiosity become dampened and Helena engage their friend. "Harold indicated that Arthur has rescinded the Unspeakables?"

"He did." Minerva easily answered, knowing that Helena was far more tactful than Harold…and while she hadn't asked outright. It was only a matter of time before she would ask what had driven her to their home last evening. "In addition, he gave me a…" She paused in her movements as she sought the best way to describe the file Arthur had given her. "Thank you gift for my years of service to Britain."

At this, both Helena and Harold perked up. "Ohh…how wonderful." Helena proclaimed, "He should have done a ceremony and…"

Harold leaned forward, realizing Minerva's words had been…sarcastic. "What did he give you?" He asked non-pulsed. "Because I very much doubt it would be something that either you or he would want presented in a ceremony."

"I daresay, probably not." Minerva remarked, "As it seems that the Ministry has been accumulating information on my family, friends, associations, businesses…anything and everything about me."

Helena gasped, "No…"

"Kingsley…" Harold snapped.

"Was the latest Minister, but the file had been started under Fudge's tenure."

"He gave you their file." Harold realized. "Last night."

"That he did." Minerva replied.

"Dear Merlin Minerva, what did it contain?" Helena asked, "As you and Albus have always been so careful regarding your family…"

"I did not read the whole of the file, but I did read the summary highlights before sending it to the Manor."

"And?" Both Helena and Harold questioned simultaneously.

"Fudge learned that I owned the majority share of the distillery and that the Manor was not my primary residence – and to this day, they do not know where the Ridge lies nor of our homes off the Isle. Kingsley has diverted several resources through the years, and knows that I…" She paused, her gaze dropping to the remnants of her coffee before whispering a harrowing truth. "Leveraged political clout to free Lucius, though he does not know why. He had Esemerele's body exhumed and utilizing muggle technology, had her DNA tested…" Finally, she lifted her gaze back up. "And discovered her parentage."

"How?" Helena expanded upon her short question. "Did he…I mean…Albus' has been dead for thirteen years and…"

"Your blood markers in the Department of Mysteries." Harold interjected. "He stole our blood samples."

"Yes."

Helena's brow furloughed, "Blood what…markers? What in blazes are you talking about?"

Harold opened his mouth, but Minerva shook her head. "No, don't Harold. You'll be breaking your oath…I won't be." She turned to Helena, "Those who've worked in the Department of Mysteries or on the rare occasion have been approached…"

Understanding sparked in Helena's eyes, "You have been trying to ascertain various witches and wizards magical capabilities and their genetic disposition." She turned to Harold, "Have you had any success?" His face blanched at the open question and she could feel him try to bury his feelings and response. "No." She answered easily translating his feelings across their bond.

"Helena…"

She cocked a brow at her husband, turning to Minerva. "And you know of this…how?"

"It isn't solely about genetics, Helena. Nor is that Department's pursuit, rather..."

"A witch and wizard's strength. Dear heaven's…" She murmured, turning to her husband. "You're trying to understand how someone like Albus or Minerva are such powerful witch's or wizard's so you can augment…"

"No." Harold held up his hand, "Not augment, Helena. Merely understand."

"There are some things that are not to be tampered with." Helena pushed back in her chair, standing. "Playing with a person's magical core…"

"You misunderstand dear." Harold quickly interjected, hoping to stave off what would be at best…a colossal argument.

Folding her arms, she waited. "Then do explain."

"You are accurate in that we have tried to ascertain how a person's magical core can be so varied. And…" He turned to Minerva, "We wish to know if it can be replenished…" Then back to Helena, "I do not and will not advocate augmentation but…we need to understand limits and processes so that we may begin healing those whose have been shattered or severely depleted. Because someone like Albus or Minerva…or even yourself…had such a deeply powerful core…we need to know if they can jumpstart another's. So, we began to identify markers in the blood that would let the department rate witch's and wizard's. It also…seems…that in addition to the standard types of blood O+, A+, AB+, A-, AB- and O-…we have found a subcategory to each phase that makes a remarkable difference in a magical person's healing ability; it mimics magnetic polarity. We've classified it as an x or z to each blood type."

"Why…" Helena turned to Minerva, "Did you know about this?"

"Only the initial core markers…" Minerva met Harold's blue eyes, "And the polarity…so to speak. It is not de-habilitating to the person receiving a transfusion if the blood type matches but the polarity doesn't?"

"No, as the body can process the blood, but…the reason it takes longer for him or her to practice magic is because the body has to re-polarize the blood. We used to believe it was based upon a person's magical core, but…it has to do with polarity in the blood."

"Why did you never say anything?"

"We've only just discovered this six months ago…" A deep sigh, left his lips. "And, with everything else going on, especially the Minister…I couldn't accidentally let it slip as the Minister receives bi-weekly reports on our research."

"And now?"

"I'll speak with Arthur this morning about releasing our research to you. There is ample research that you should be able to start test trials within a few months."

Minerva silently watched as Helena and Harold found a détente…as another layer of Kingsley and his time as Minister slipped away.

"Alright…" Helena finally murmured, "But this is not entirely dropped…"

A light sparked behind blue eyes, mirth lining his features in response. "I'd not have it any other way, love." He leaned over, gently kissing her lips…both holding the moment as they savored the feeling of their love before pulling back. "Now…I believe we got slightly sidetracked," He reached over and took Minerva's cup, "More?"

"That'd be lovely."

He nodded, "You were saying he exhumed Esmerele's body." He poured a measure into her cup, "How'd he get past the enchantments and warding?"

"I don't know." She remarked, hearing Albus' voice from the night before.

Helena easily read her friend, "You and Albus fought again last night."

"Hmmm…." Minerva met Helena's gaze, taking the proffered cup. "Yes, over the bloody file and Esmerele."

"Don't tell me he gave you a hard time because Kingsley exhumed the body." Harold's voice mirrored the sudden rigidity in his back.

"It was slightly more involved than Esmerele's body being exhumed."

"Minerva…what happened between you two last night?" Helena gently asked, knowing that it was not simply an argument that had propelled her friend to her home shortly after eleven at night in her nightgown and outer robe…barefoot. She had asked her last evening, only to have Minerva shake her head asking her to leave it till morning.

"We…fought about the family, the warding…"

"He blames you for not casting a strong enough series of charms to hide her body." Harold whispered.

"Amongst several other things."

"Minerva…" Helena was already enveloping her in a warm embrace.

Harold's heart seized as Minerva sunk into his wife's arms, a tear running down his cheek as a harrowing gasp slipped unbidden from her lips…followed by a soul shattering admission.

"…we're drifting apart…"

Helena instinctively tightening her arms…

"…and I don't know how to…"

Harold's heart breaking more as sobs broke across her sentence…

"…fix it…"

Harold pulled both his wife and dearest friend into his chest as his tears joined theirs.

"…or even if I can."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Bonnie blinked, "Excuse me?"

"What happened to Minerva between February and December in 1972 that caused her to become farsighted and have to wear glasses?" Hermione repeated verbatim, reading the shock and anxiety in yellow eyes.

Bonnie numbly stood in the younger witch's quarters, utterly rooted to the floor. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe she would be asked this question…and what was she going to say?

Of course she knew what had happened to Minerva. The whole of the house elves did. After all…it had been a long summer at the Ridge as the Mistress and Master Albus _adjusted_ to life after their bonding. She could still hear the screams as they roared at the other…magic bursting the walls apart…before they were wrapped in each other's arms, clothes being shed as they fought to become…one. Two days after their bonding…she had been asked to bring an optometrist to the home; to her surprise, it had been for both Minerva and Albus. As Albus' vision had become incredibly better, whereas Minerva's…far worse.

She thought back to the first several years after their bonding, and the events held at the Manor...remembering strands of half conversations, questions…causing distraught eyes to finally meet expecting brown ones that had been waiting for an answer. Bonnie had known that the young woman before her had been keen on understanding Minerva, the family…but…there were some things that had to come from Minerva and no other. "I cannot say." Bonnie held firm.

"You have served her the whole of her life, I doubt very much that you do not know why she suddenly began wearing glasses."

Bonnie's back became slightly straighter, "I did not say I did not know, rather I would not say."

"Why?" Hermione questioned, realizing on some level that the importance of the reason still held true today.

"It is not for me to divulge and you will have to ask Minerva." Bonnie slipped into Gaelic, _"For that event still affects her now and is a cause of privation for the Mistress that so few will ever know. And while I wish you to know, it is not within my power to tell you. Though, we shall see how keen your intellect and sharp your memory are, for if you remember these words in several months time, then you shall also be privy to the most important one – bonding." _

Hermione unabashedly stared at Bonnie, knowing full well that whatever had been said in Gaelic…would have been immensely helpful. She had barely understood a third of the verbiage. "She will not tell me."

_"No, she will not." _Bonnie agreed, using a string of Gaelic she knew that Hermione would understand.

"And…you believe I should let this go?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"No." Bonnie reached out, hand gently touching her wrist, though her voice holding a steely edge. "I do not."

Hermione's eyes constricted, "I…" Her mind reeling with Bonnie's conflicting statement. "Huh?"

"Do not give up in your quest, Hermione." Bonnie's eyes boring into Hermione's. "I beseech you."

Hermione instinctively kneeled down, "Why? What is it that is so important?"

"Love." She whispered, a moment of silence stretching between them before Bonnie took a step backwards, "Now…I believe we are late in starting our day."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"I can't." George rumbled as Rory's hand slid up his back. "Mum's having everyone over for dinner."

"And who said anything regarding dinner?" Rory questioned, pulling George into his chest as he wrapped his arm around George's waist.

"You said drinks…"

"Aye," Rory whispered against his neck. "I did."

"With McG." He said turning his head to glance back at his lover.

"Uh-huh..." Soft kisses tracing the ginger mane.

George shook his head, "No…" He went to push Rory away, but the elder wizard's arm tightened about him. "I can't." All traces of sleep vanishing, "I'm not like you."

"She isna just anyone." Rory leaned back, concern lacing his features. "She is my closest friend."

"Yes." George confirmed, "She is…and…she also happens to be the Headmistress of Hogwarts…one of the most reclusive person's…" He shook his head. "I'll be intruding and…it'll be uncomfortable and…"

"She asked that you come."

George's mouth dropped.

"Just you." Rory shifted, bringing their lower bodies closer, "Me." He whispered, his arms braced on either side of George's face. "And her."

"…Wh…y?" George asked, disbelieving what he had heard.

"Because, she loves me." Rory leaned closer, "And wants me…" His breath intermingling with George's. "To be happy…and therefore…"

"She doesn't know me." George murmured against Rory's lips.

"Nor do ya know much about her." Rory's brogue reverberating off his skin.

"How can I not know much about her," George instinctively turned his head, "She's Minerva McGonagall, First Order of Merlin, Headmistress of Hogwarts…"

"Aye," Rory interrupted, "But what do ya know of Minerva?"

"She's…"

"Survived three wars." Rory pulled back, grey eyes burning into blue. "But lost the whole of her family save for two children, two grandchildren, and a handful of second and third cousins. Did ya know that she fronted the money for Arthur's mother ta buy the burrow and subsequently keep it when she died? Or that…she loves ginger newts because that is what her mother used ta bake for her? That she has won dance competitions? That her brother taught her how ta play the piano, and upon rare occasion I have heard her play – it is as enticing and beautiful as…you." He shifted his weight, bringing his right hand upwards, running it across George's cheek. "Ya do not know her, George. Few people do, but…she'd like ta get ta know ya. And…I'd like ya to g'it ta know her."

Despite his own fears and concerns, George found himself drowning in Rory's eyes… "Sunday?"

"Aye." Rory whispered, "I know…ya are worried about what she'll say or infer; but…ya needn't be."

"It's just…" Tears instantly burned at the back of blue eyes, "I've never…no one knows, Rory."

"She isna anyone, George. She's what's left of my family, and I…" His voice cracked, "I want ya ta get ta know her, before…" He pushed away from George, not able to show the young wizard how dire Minerva's situation was, as he sat up and turned away from him. "Before something happens and ya canna know her like I do."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Aegis narrowed his eyes, blue becoming almost predatory as he watched the exchange between Potter and Draco. _He's being outright foolish_, he thought as he gingerly shifted his weight; eyes skimming across the other outlying buildings…and his stomach turned. A story beneath him and two buildings to the south were a pair of wizards.

He reached into his pocket, fingers gripping the flat metal surface…and pulled it from the depths of his robes along with it…a small worn nub of a quill. Without looking, he scribbled a message onto the flat plate…and then…it was gone.

His eyes continued to remain fixated upon the two perched wizards despite the ache in his hip…waiting for the young fools to leave so he could eliminate the larger problem…and if he was lucky, he'd have help while doing so.

Potter turned to leave, his black robes swirling about his thin frame; causing Aegis to involuntarily grip his wand tighter, knowing full well that in just a few moments…the alley would be riddled with errant spells.

He watched as Draco remained still, waiting for Potter to duck around the corner before he too vacated the dismal alley. Black robes and hair vanished…and Aegis flipped a protego charm outward between the foes and Draco's back.

The two men were already lifting their heads towards the origination of the defensive spell, Aegis having cast a vanishing spell upon their perch as their eyes met. Recognition flashing as the ground dissipated beneath them.

The men went to apparate, but found themselves unable to…and at once slowed their descent while casting spells at both Draco and Aegis.

Neither one seeing the newly arrived wizard. His long white hair blowing about his face…as his black wand glinted off the morning rays as one man fell to the stone, unconscious. The wizard immediately spun around, a sprig of fire bursting outwards, and Lucius pulled water from the ground to dampen the flames as the second man fell to the ground petrified.

Aegis already hurrying forward, "Impeccable timing."

"As is yours." Lucius gently bent his fingers on his left hand, noting the slight discoloration of his skin.

Draco glanced at his father then the elder wizard known as Aegis, "What…were you following me for? And who are those men?"

"Go with your father, Draco."

Draco bristled at the comment, "I will not listen to a two bit…"

Aegis wandlessly summoned Draco's wand, and felt a mild bit of satisfaction at the startled expression. "Be thankful I followed you, as you have become sloppy and Johannes suspects that you are feeding the Ministry or Minerva information; and if I had not come here this evening, you'd be dead." He flipped Draco's wand backwards and handed it to him. "Now, go."

Lucius was already kneeling next to one of the two men, his voice barely heard as he cast an oblivate spell.

Draco reached outward, retrieving his wand. Sincerity lining his features, "Thank you."

"Thank your father." He turned to Lucius, "I'll get the other one," His eyes momentarily focusing on the singed skin. "You need to get your hand treated before returning home."

"I will be fine." Lucius flexed his hand again, "Draco what were you relaying to Potter?"

"What you should have been relaying as it was spoken at the Manor." Draco snapped.

"You didn't tell him of Minerva's cousin." Dread filling Aegis' heart.

Draco took a step back, "They are going to execute…"

"Yes," Aegis took a step forward, "They are, you daft fool." He ran a hand through his hair, "That's the point."

Draco turned to his father, hoping to garner some understanding. "I don't…"

"Johannes believes Warren is her secret keeper." Aegis snapped, "As he is one of the handful of cousins that she still speaks with. He knows she has not made her immediate family nor her dearest friends her secret keepers…so, logically…Warren is the secret keeper. However, if someone intercedes, he'll know that she has been forewarned. And believe that she altered her secret keeper…while placing all of us in great danger."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione cast her gaze about the room, "A little more on the upstroke Miss Storr."

The dark haired student bobbed her head as she did as was instructed, the transfiguration occurring without a problem…a smile lighting her face.

"Ahh…Mr. Lyle, I do believe you are having difficulties…" She drew next to the young man. "Not because of your pronunciation but…" She wandlessly summoned the wand he was using. Or rather, pretending to use. "Your wand seems to have been purchased from the Weasley's Wheezies." She kept her face non-reactionary as the wand became limp, her temper flaring at the young man's audacity at his blatant disregard. "This class is not a joke, Mr. Lyle." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the young prankster. "Thirty points from Gryffindor and detention for a week."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Potter stared at Draco, voice breaking as he asked the simple question. "What?"

"She can't know." He repeated.

Black hair shook with the violence of his feelings, "You can't ask me not to tell her…"

"I have to." Draco whispered.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, "No. After all that she has done for me, my family…" Tears welled up, "Even you Draco. I can't not tell her."

Draco swallowed as the two men stared at the other for a long moment, before harrowing words left pale lips. "Then Harkiss wins."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Aegis pulled the tattered cloak tighter about him, obscuring his face from view as he entered the remnants of Bagshot's home. Without pausing for recourse, he stepped forward and threw a small bag of floo powder into the grate.

"Headmistress of Hogwarts."

In a flash, he was stepping out of the grate and could feel a hundred pair of eyes descend upon him…as well as a wand pressed into his neck.

"Your business here." Came her steadfast voice, causing a smile to break across Aegis' own.

"Merely a message, Minerva." Aegis distinct voice broke the tension.

Minerva pulled her wand away from the man's neck who appeared to be Aegis Black, her brow arching; wand still aimed at his chest. "The last night before I left for Germany…"

Aegis' jaw rippled, eyes flaring with emotion as he flipped his hood off his head. "You told me that…you miscarried."

Albus' portrait baulked in surprise, as did every other portrait in the chamber. Dily's hand instinctively covered her mouth as did several others to keep their response…minimized. Minerva, though, could feel Albus' response. Unadulated shock. Anger. Hurt. As she lowered her wand. "Why have you come?"

"We have learned that Johannes will kill Warren."

"He thinks I would be foolish enough to have Warren be my Secret Keeper?" Minerva asked, aghast at the notion.

"Yes, and he means to eliminate him." The fire light reflecting off his rugged features.

Minerva drew her emotions inwards, after all…she'd have time for those later. "That is not why _you _have come. As you know that he is not my secret keeper, as he is too exposed."

"I do." Aegis acknowledged.

"Then why not tell Johannes…"

"I need you…to let him die." Minerva turned away, and while she would not outwardly display any pain caused by his statement, he knew from the stiffness of her posture that she was riddled with it. "Or he'll know that there is someone on the inside."

"Draco told Harry." Minerva quietly pieced together. "And you are circumventing…" She turned back to Aegis, "Do you know when?"

"Minerva…"

"The day…Aegis." She snapped eyes ablaze.

"Some time before Christmas."

Her mind was searching for viable scenarios, "And will he be there?"

"No." Aegis whispered not wanting to tell her who would be, but…as soon as the word left his mouth; he knew he had given away what he sought to hide.

"It's you initiation." She could feel the tears, "Who will be there besides you?"

"I only know that I, along with four others are to eliminate your secret keeper and…"

"Johannes will be waiting to enter my home immediately upon his death."

"Yes."

Her pupils darkened as her jaw clenched, "Leave me Aegis."

"Minerva…"

"You have delivered your message, Aegis." She clipped, "Now, leave."

"For what it's worth, I am sorry." He turned back to the fireplace, hand sinking into the floo powder.

"As am I." Tears slipping down her cheek. "If his family…" She cleared her throat, "Is injured or…killed…"

"They will be fine." Aegis whispered glancing backwards.

Green eyes hardened despite the fire sparkling off the dampness from her cheeks, "And after?"

"We will finally have a way to know where he is…and will be."

The fire crackled, the portraits unabashedly stared as the seconds silently ticked by on the clock upon the wall.

"Then safe travels, my Slytherin." She murmured, not trusting herself to say more. Her own rage and anger mixing with Albus'…

He gave a solitary nod, "And to you my beautiful Gryffindor." He drew his hand back and she felt a weight settle in her soul as the fireplace flashed green and she was left alone in her office…mere seconds before a chorus of voices resonated from the walls, her husband's the loudest.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Ginny threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "Have you heard a word I was saying?"

"Huh…" Harry lifted his gaze and inwardly cringed, as his day went from worse to intolerable. "I'm sorry." He tried for the umpteenth time to focus on the here and now, "What did you say?"

Ginny saw a flash of remorse, and her anger at Harry's inattentiveness dissipated. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He murmured, "Just…a long day."

"Harry…" Her voice rang with a measure of her disbelief. "Tell me."

"I…" He reached up pulling his glasses off, "Today…I…"

Sirius and James both skidded to a halt, "Ohhh…" Sirius swallowed, trying to make the brooms they were carrying vanish. "Ahhh, hi dad…mom…we were…"

"Put them back." Ginny pointed to the hallway.

James' face soured, "Mom…"

"Now." Harry curtly stated, "Or I won't take either of you out this weekend."

James was already running out of the room, Sirius paused at the edge; "Then we're still going on Sunday?"

Harry felt a measure of relief ebb across his soul at Ginny's gentle caress. "Of course."

"Ya think…Rose will be able to come?" He asked, "And Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione?"

"I'll stop by and remind them both, as for Rose…"

A coy smile spread over Sirius' features, "She doesn't practice as much as James and me…but…I think she's got lots of skill."

"I'll see if Bill and Fluer are coming too." Harry said beating Sirius' next question. "Along with Charlie and George."

Sirius' face broke into a broader grin, "So, you think…we'll be able to play a game."

"Yes." Ginny answered, "Now, get moving young man."

Sirius nodded, "Alright, mom." He went to step through, but paused and turned back again. "What…about Uncle Neville? Or…Aunt McGonagall?"

Ginny felt Harry's muscles tense and felt an immediate sense of dread fill the pit of her stomach, though she now knew why Harry's mood was so…off. "Of course, they're invited." She nodded to the door. "Now, get moving young man."

"Ya know…she used to play quidditch; think she'd be interested in the game this weekend?" Hope burned in the depths of young green eyes.

"Never hurts to ask." Harry whispered, knowing that she'd say no; but…not willing to break his son's heart. _After all_…he reasoned, _there's always a first time. _"Now…broom, go."

"Right." Sirius spun around and was gone; leaving Harry and Ginny alone again.

Ginny waited until she was sure they were in another part of the house, before broaching the topic. "What's…wrong with McGonagall?"

"I…" He leaned back, "I need to do something, but…" He could hear Draco's words and see…_her_ face. "I can't."

"Honey…?" She knelt down, drawing his hand into hers as her eyes searched his. "Whatever happened, whatever it is…you can talk to me."

A spark flared in the depths Harry's soul from years before…a remnant and slowly he began shaking his head. "No." He squeezed her right hand with his left one, reaching out with his right one to put on his glasses. "I can't."

She felt the hair's on the back of her neck prickle, "Harry?"

He scanned her face, leaned forward, gently kissing her cheek. "I can't." He breathed against her skin. "I'm sorry." He let her fingers go, standing. "I'll be back later."

"Where are you going?" She stood up, fingers clamping onto his shoulder.

"To talk to…Minerva." He whispered, hating himself for doing what he needed to do, wishing he could do what Draco had stated; but he couldn't. Just the thought of it…had been torture to him, let alone if he followed through.

Innately, she took a step forward, her hand falling from his shoulder to his waist as the other one wrapped around him; kissing the back of his neck. She felt him let out a long exhale, head falling back and resting against hers. "I love you." She murmured into his shoulder before letting him go to do what he needed to.

He paused at the door, "I love you too, Ginny." He glanced over his shoulder, "I'll be back later tonight…and I'll talk about it then."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione moved her bishop to E5, eyes glancing to the surreptitiously quiet gallery. She had been in the office for just over an hour, and not once…had any of the portraits, even Albus or Severus said hello or made any other comment. They had just…sat and watched. Added into the abnormality was Minerva's quiet demeanor. Upon arriving, it had seemed as though her eyes had been mildly bloodshot, and perhaps even a bit puffy…but…before she had taken two more steps into Minerva's office…she had appeared, normal. Even…rested looking, and Hermione knew that she had cast a Glamour charm.

The question was…why?

Minerva, herself, had barely spoken after her arrival; deferring to the reason she had come up here this evening – their game of chess that had been postponed to tonight. And so, the game had begun and the four times she had tried to engage Minerva…had fallen flat; once regarding the Ministry, another with Helena, a question of the latest Transfiguration Journal that had been published on Monday, and the last one was regarding the quidditch match on Saturday.

She blinked as Minerva slid her rook to the opposing side of the board, exposing her queen. And…Hermione found herself unable to continue with the charade of their game, "What's wrong?"

Minerva's focus remained on the board, as it had for the whole of the night. "I'm sorry," She forced her gaze upwards, willing the sadness in her eyes to remain hidden. "I just…have had a rather long day."

Hermione leaned incrementally forward, "Are you sure that's all, because you seem…off tonight?"

"That's all." Minerva pushed ahead, forcing her mind fully away from the two hours before Hermione's arrival. "And I hear Mr. Lyle will be visiting you for several more days."

Brown eyes searched green ones a moment more, knowing something was off…but…powerless to help her, unless she opened up. And…it seemed that whatever it was, she was going to remain quiet about. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you heard about it."

"No, although, I was surprised to hear that he tried to use it in your class." Minerva remarked.

"As was I." Hermione moved her knight, capturing Minerva's queen. "I thought he had more brains…"

Minerva countered her move almost instantly before settling herself back into her chair, and listening to Hermione. She found her voice as soothing as her presence this evening.

"Well not more brains, but at least a little forethought. What in blazes was he thinking? Bringing a fake wand to Transfiguration class." Hermione's voice pitch dropped, "And to think he believed he would get away with it. Even George and Fred had more respect…" Hermione went to reach across the board, fingers resting upon a pawn. "They never would have dared to cross you in class…or even Snape."

"They did." Her words surprising Hermione. "Though," A partial smile pulled at her lips. "Only once."

"Testing their boundaries." Hermione moved her piece, intrigued. "What did they do?"

"Their first year, George tried to be Fred and vice versa."

"And…you caught them?"

"Of course." Minerva could no longer stop the smile as she recalled the day. "Fred had a far more natural ability in Transfiguration, so during the practical part…"

"You were able to discern their swapped identities."

"Quite." She moved her knight. "Much to their surprise."

"And…what did you do?"

"Publicly or privately?" Minerva countered drawing a look of astonishment from Hermione.

"Ahhh…both."

"I do believe I deducted quite a few house points and assigned detention to them. Privately, however, I informed them if I ever caught them playing practical jokes in my class again, they would no longer be eligible for my class."

"I would have thought they would have taken your ultimatum as grounds to push harder against you."

"I may have been slightly more colorful." Minerva admitted as Hermione moved another pawn.

"Such as…?" A hint of eagerness lacing her voice.

"I reminded the boys that I too had been young once, and while not often practiced; I knew far more ways to conduct jokes than they could conceive. And I may have…partaken in one that evening to highlight my meaning." She ushered her second knight forward.

"I never heard…of you playing a joke upon them."

"I daresay not." Minerva remarked, "It would not be something that they would willingly spread; being bested by an old transfiguration teacher."

"You aren't old."

"To an eleven year old, I'm ancient." Minerva continued on, not wanting to talk about her age on top of everything else today. "I happened to stick their furniture upon the ceiling while transforming their clothes into singular pieces."

"Shirts and pants were molded together?"

"It seemed an adequate example," Minerva watched as Hermione moved her knight.

"How long did you leave them without their wardrobe?"

"Merely a day." She exposed her king.

"Why…?" Hermione slid her queen forward placing Minerva's king into check. "Did you do that?"

Minerva slid her rook forward, protecting her king and pinning Hermione's queen. "It seemed to be a sufficient way to even the game."

"That it did." Hermione commented appraisingly. She had to make sure to remember that Minerva was a strategist by heart; or at least, she excelled at it as well as transfiguration.

They continued on for another hour, idle chatter occurring between them before Minerva finally cornered Hermione's king.

"Well played, dear." Minerva stayed Hermione's efforts on putting the game away. "I shall take care of it tomorrow."

"It'll only take me…"

Minerva stood, "Thank you." She motioned to the door, "For the game and the company."

"What happened today?" Hermione stood too, hand reaching out to hold Minerva still for a moment. "Minerva…" Her voice innately becoming softer, hoping to reach the elder woman who had yet to turn to her. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here."

Slowly…almost reverently, Minerva lifted her gaze; the depth of emotion exposed to Hermione taking her breath away at the pain and rawness staring back at her from emerald depths… "I know."

Hermione gently withdrew her hand, "Alright." She whispered. "Then…I hope you can get some rest this evening."

"You too." Minerva gently breathed, as she pulled away from Hermione's comforting presence.

Hermione paused for a moment more, but Minerva was already turning away…heading towards the staircase to take her to her living suite and without looking back, she made her way to her own living quarters. Her mind riveted upon Minerva's peculiar behavior and the portraits muted one.

Absently she gave her password, stepping through and then paused at seeing Godric's pensive expression.

_Godric._ She thought, _he'd know what had happened, or at least…a part of it._

And she felt her words die at his shaking head and raised hand. "I cannot divulge what happened this evening in the Headmistress' office, as you well know."

"She's withdrawing."

"That she is." Godric acknowledged, "And rightly so."

"Godric, either hold your tongue or divulge what you know." She admonished.

"Too true," He nodded, "My apologies." He went to vacate his portrait but felt a strange sense of…something and paused. He knew she cared for his previous charge and as much as he wished the world would turn out differently for Minerva; it hadn't. And the current strain upon her had become nothing short of intolerable. Not counting…the growing tension between her and Albus. He could commiserate with both; however, their perceptions were colored by what was becoming vastly different lives…as his view was becoming stagnant – for a lot could change over thirteen years in the land of the living while hers…was continuing to grow as was her relationships. Their love being stretched as the wedge became more intense with the mounting pressures and discord; and the fissure between them grew. However, they were intent upon making it work…despite the continuous heated exchange that seemed to punctuate their every conversation.

And then…there was Hermione. He had watched as she had miraculously slipped between what most found to be impenetrable walls and somehow had emerged…as Minerva's friend. She was fast becoming a respite for her...and he'd daresay...perhaps even unwittingly becoming a pillar in Minerva's life.

"I will tell you she had two visitors this evening." Godric spun a bit of straw between his fingers, "One being Harry Potter. I'd suggest you speak with him regarding his conversation with her; as it mirrored her earlier conversation she had with Aegis."

"Black?"

He gave a slight nod and she instantly summoned her cloak, knowing that whatever Aegis has spoken with her about…would have countless repercussions. She grasped her cloak, "Can you let Filius know I had to step out?"

"Do be careful, Hermione."

She slipped her arm through the sleeve, "Always. And thank you."

"Do not thank me, Hermione." The gravity of his voice stilling her movements, "For you are on the precipice, dangling over waters that you have no notion as to their depth."

"I'm not interested in riddles Godric." She shrugged on the last of her cloak, "Besides, it sounds dangerously like a mirage."

Her audacity caused a grin to break across his face, "It seems as though you do make a fine pillar."

"Huh?" She questioned, meeting his oddly alive gaze.

"Just making an observation." He replied, "I do hope you find what you seek, good night."

She stared after him, dumbfounded by his odd comment and subsequent response before grabbing a scarf and heading to Harry's.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva began brushing her hair out, "No."

"Minerva…"

"I refuse to get into another argument with you tonight, Albus."

"Just please, tell me why you never said anything about your unborn child."

She paused mid stroke, "What would you have had me say, Albus?" A deep tiredness lacing her lilt.

"Tabby, I love you." He whispered, "And there is nothing that you can say would _ever _change that. Please, Tabby…I only…want to know."

Minerva slowly pulled the brush through her hair, shoulders sagging as a heavy sigh left her lips. "There isn't much you don't know, love." She conceded, a deep tenderness staring at her from the portrait. "You know that Aegis and I had a rather intense and torrid affair the summer following our final year at Hogwarts…and intermittently for several months later; I ended up pregnant. I didn't even know it." Her voice caught; "Until after…everything happened." She took a steadying breath, "They found my parents and…the stress of their death caused my miscarriage." Her voice sounding distant even to her ears, "I didn't know how to cope. I was in love with a man that…neither of us could be in love with the other; our families had forbid it…and I had become pregnant with him, and lost our child. I…had just lost my parents, my brother had died less than six months before, over half of my aunts and uncles had been killed…Digs…" She forced smile through her watery eyes, "Had been murdered a week before and Helena…was temporarily paralyzed, Lizza…was in a coma. And Grindlewald had turned what remained of my family against me because of my father's writings; and I refused to turn them over, causing even more of my extended family's death."

"You never said…that all happened before I saw you in Germany."

"No…" She whispered, "I was afraid you would have sent me back." Her fingers tightened on the corner of the sheet into a ball, "I wasn't even nineteen…and…felt like the world had collapsed in upon me."

"Hence, your request for the front lines." Albus immediately understood, "You never meant to return." She had hoped that the war would claim her life and end her guilt with regards to her extended family and friends. Though, despite over a hundred missions in three years; she had always returned alive, more often than not bringing back injured or lifeless members of her team.

A soft wind whistled through the aged windows, disrupting the stillness that had settled between them. "It seemed as though fate had other ideas." She finally admitted.

"I, for one, am glad it did."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Ginny frowned at Hermione's appearance, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah." She stepped in and out of the brisk night air. "Harry up?" She asked while hanging her cloak on the hook.

"Hey." He slipped a shirt over his head while stepping into the hallway, "You alright?"

"I need to talk to you." She stated without preamble, eyes flashing to Ginny and then back. "Alone."

"Hermione…"

Pattering footsteps trudged down the stairs, "Aunt Hermione!" Sirius practically flew across the expanse arms gripping her in a bear hug.

"Aunt Mione!" James immediately following suite.

"Why didn't you come earlier?" Sirius asked as he and his brother pulled away.

"I'm afraid I was busy having someone sit through detention, love."

This caused both Harry and Ginny to raise their eyebrows, but neither remarked; though both wanted to.

"Why were someone in detention?" James blinked up at his aunt.

"Why was…" Hermione gently corrected, "A young boy didn't listen to his teacher, now…I believe you were both in bed." She motioned to the stairs.

"Ahhh…Aunt Hermione…" They both whined, and at seeing her face remain set, turned to their mother. "Mum…"

Harry negated any further commentary, "Bed boys, or I will forget to ask your aunt if she can make it this weekend."

James and Sirius' shoulders sunk but both nodded, "Alright." They mumbled, "Night Aunt Hermione." Sirius paused giving her another hug, "See you this weekend."

Hermione returned the hug, "Night boys."

Ginny and Harry exchanged a look, and Ginny shooed the boys to the stairs, following behind them; giving Harry and Hermione a bit of privacy.

"Wanna talk in the den?" He motioned for her to join him, and after she stepped through, he closed the door; locking it behind them. "What's up?" He questioned, as she placed a silencing charm on the room.

She slipped her wand back into her robes, "What did you go speak with Minerva about this evening?"

His face momentarily blanched, "Ahhh…I didn't see her…"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Harry." She took a step closer to him, "Especially about this. As…I am at Hogwarts trying to protect it, along with it's Headmistress."

"I haven't even told Ginny."

"And she isn't the one who will be accompanying Minerva into Merlin knows what."

Frustrated, Harry ran a hand through his messed hair. "Fine. But, she'll know it came from me; and then what?"

"It can't be that bad…"

"Harkiss believes her cousin is her secret keeper and to maintain the secrecy of the person on the inside, she has to let him die."

No words were at her command as she stared at her dearest friend, mouth agape. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed…

Harry continued on, knowing full well, that once Hermione found her voice…he wouldn't be able to say two words for the rest of the evening. "It is supposed to happen before the Holidays, and when I spoke with her tonight…she seemed to withdraw into herself…" His jaw clenched, distress lacing his normally vivid eyes. "Before saying that she would take care of it, and that she already knew. How…I haven't a clue." He shook his head, "I mean, what can she do? Except…let him die." He rambled on as Hermione stared at him, still too shocked to speak. "Polyjuice…won't work, because once the body dies it reverts back. We could set up an ambush, but we don't know if Harkiss is going to be there…"

"And…you took this to her." She finally interjected. "I can't…" She shook her head, feeling the onset of a migraine pulse behind her eyes. "Believe you…" She could not imagine a world where she had to choose whether someone were to live or die, "What did she say?"

"Only that…she'd work it out."

"What does that mean?" She questioned trying to keep her world from spinning anymore than it already was.

"I don't know." He gravely whispered.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Once upon a time…far far away, I bantered the idea of this story with someone for an entry into Hermione's Big Bang – gave her the general overview, said it dealt with a bonding between Minerva & Albus but would slowly morph into a Minerva – Hermione storyline. Explained that it would take place over the course of a year, though at that time, I was under the delusion of writing a far shorter story – using a normal story timescale versus a chapter for each day. She had been rather adamant that it couldn't and wouldn't work; believing it would be 'icky' and those who read Hermione/Minerva stories wouldn't go for it. And so…I put a few stories on hold and started this one with the notion of entering it into the contest. Alas, eighteen months later, I'm still not finished (good thing I opted not to enter it), but…I do have a query for those reading this… piece of fiction. _

_Do you think the story has successfully captivated the Minerva – Hermione storyline, despite beginning as a Minerva/Albus relationship? _


	58. Chapter 55 December 11th, 2009

**Chapter 55 ~ December 11****th****, 2009 (Friday)**

"It isn't even six this morning." Disbelief ringing in her words, "How can she not be here?"

"She left rather early this morning." Milksy's ears turned down at her Mistress' obvious dissatisfaction with her answer.

"Early?" Hermione murmured, "Did she even bloody well sleep last night?" She asked more to herself, but was surprised when Milksy answered.

"Very little. As Elgin looked a bit piqued this morning."

_Great, _she silently thought. _So much for getting some much needed rest._ "Do you know when she'll be back at the castle?"

"Her schedule shows she has a meeting at eleven with Master Filius."

Hermione's shoulders dropped as her right hand raked through her wily hair. "And…by happenstance, do you know where she went at such an obscene hour?"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"I'm not asking." Minerva rebuked, fire lighting her eyes from within.

"And I don't give a horse's ass. The answer's still no." Helena held fast.

"This isn't for some theoretical research, Helena."

"And these people deserve to be properly buried."

"They will be."

"You're going to incinerate their remains."

"Yes!" Minerva yelled, "I am. So I can save Warren and his family's lives."

"You have to find another way."

"I need actual bodies, Helena." Her brogue thick, along with an unfamiliar sound of defeat, "As I cannot transform a stick or log into Warren's body at this point."

The air rushed from Helena's lungs at Minerva's stinging admission, the reality of her friend's decline becoming readily apparent. "Then tell me."

"That would be like you telling me how morph skin into bone."

"You know I can't talk about…"

"And you think my discipline has any less stringent rules?"

"Alright, for purely hypothetical sake, is there anyone who can perform the spells as you need it?"

"Each person who knows past us creates an exponential pyramid of people who could lead Harkiss to the truth."

"And you didn't answer my question."

"Other than Kane, no."

"Kane?"

"Kane Tsu."

Helena remembered the name, "And why is he not an option?"

"He was arrested and jailed."

"What in heaven's for?"

"He has a panache for altering money."

"And there are no other Master's with the expertise?"

"How many people in your field would you trust with a member of your family's life?"

"Fair point." Helena conceded. "And…when is Kane to be released?"

"Ten years."

Helena sighed, "Do you think Harkiss will wait?"

"Their bones and mine will long since be turned to dust by the time Kane's available."

"Is there any other option?"

"I've been up all night, Helena. And the only way I can save them is to transform another body into theirs and then fake their deaths. Otherwise…" She swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain stoic. "I have to let Warren die."

Helena choked back tears, head shaking. "No, Minerva…that is not an option."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Exasperated, Hermione spun on her heel and quickly descended the stairs. She was already late; dinner with her parents and children started…five minutes ago. She rounded the corner, and instead of veering to the oak doors; bolted to the east wing, eyes having seen a distinct flash of green disappear around the corner.

"Professor McGonagall." She called out, hoping that Minerva had heard her. She had tried, and failed to see her for the whole of the day; and…while she didn't have time now, she was willing to make the time.

However, upon stepping around the corner and seeing the eastern hallway empty, it seemed that she would be making time later this evening…after her children went to bed, not willing to be any later than she already was. She retraced her steps and quickly made her way to the apparition point. Five minutes later…she was striding into her parents' home.

"Sorry I'm late." She called out, banishing her cloak to the rack as she veered to the dining room, her children meeting her halfway with heartfelt hugs and sloppy kisses.

"Mom!"

"Mum!"

"Have you both been good for Nana and Peepaw?"

"Yup!" Hugo nodded.

"Of course mom." Rose answered.

She stood, her eyes gravitating to her parents who both nodded at her silent question. They had been good for them. "Come on. We need to finish dinner." She guided her children back to the table, sitting next to her mother and Rose.

"We going to see Aunt Minerva this weekend?"

She was going to let her children jabber a moment as she dished her own plate up, but at Rose's innocent question she felt not only her children's eyes descend upon her, but her parents' as well.

"I believe so." Hermione replied. "Though, we'll have to see her tomorrow, because we are going to Uncle Harry's on Sunday."

"Is she going too?" Hugo's question caused Rose to smile at her, nodding.

"I don't know, honey." Hermione answered, humor lacing her mother's features.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Lovely." Minerva remarked skimming over the menu.

"You are sure it is not too ornate?" Bonnie asked, trying not to fidget. After all, it had been a long time since the McGonagall family had held a gala event; she had been…practically a youth at the time, bustling around as she cleaned linens, polished the floors…as her mother and aunt coordinated the intricacies of the event. And now…over seventy years later…she was planning the event…and she couldn't help but be a little nervous.

Kind eyes met worried ones, "It's perfect, my dear."

Bonnie's heart soared at the rare endearment Minerva had bestowed, "Thank you."

Long fingers extended the parchment back to Bonnie, "It is I who should be thanking you for all the time and energy you have put into organizing it."

"I will need you to contact Tom."

"I spoke with him over a week ago." Minerva met her gaze, "He will be sending over the requested amount. Is there anything else?"

"Relating to the main event, not today."

Minerva smiled, "Understandable. And how is the family one coming along?"

"Quite well. Though, you did include Miss Hermione in the family gathering; did you also wish space for her children?"

"I will be able to provide you with a finalized guest list for the family by Sunday evening."

"And regards to the entertainment…"

"I have faith in your abilities to make it happen."

"They have another engagement…"

"Call Tyler Stanner." Minerva watched as Bonnie quickly scribbled the name down, "He should be able to work out the scheduling conflict."

"Very well." Bonnie's arms dropped to her waist, "You do realize that the cost will be twice as much as the Gala's entertainment."

Green eyes twinkled, "It's a present for me…so we'll pay for it out of Albus' vault."

Bonnie chuckled, knowing that while the cost was rather steep; compared to what they used to purchase for the other on a whim, it was barely a drop of sand along the ocean. "I am sure he will be amenable to it."

"Undoubtedly." Minerva replied, "Anything else of note?"

"Uhhh…" A light flush graced Bonnie's cheeks, "You should know that Master Rory has…taken a lover."

"I believe it would be more apt to say that said lover has taken Rory."

Bonnie agreed, "He does seem rather infatuated with the young wizard."

A rich, decadent laughter reverberated off aged office walls, "Infatuated…" She took a deep breath, "How true, Bonnie. How true. Though," She gently brushed a bit of moisture from the lashes of her right eye, "It would be wise not to say such things to Rory."

A look of horror flashed across the matriarch's face, "I would never say something so…uncouth."

"It is not for that reason, my dear friend; but I fear he would not take kindly to another person pointing out how quickly he fell for his young friend; and he may view it as an affront to Derrick."

"It has been many years since I have seen the light shine behind his eyes or the bounce that now floats his step."

"Yes, it has." Minerva quietly agreed.

"I'm afraid your words and meaning escape me."

"I was only inferring that young Mr. Weasley has not only piqued Rory's interest, but in the matter of weeks, I daresay he has captured his heart as well. And it would be wise for both of us to wholly support his decision, lest he think it unwise and question his own heart."

"Hence, we are having guests this Sunday." Bonnie began understanding Minerva's reasoning.

"That amongst other reasons," Minerva cleared her throat, pushing the 'other' reasons that she and Rory spoke of at the beginning of the week aside. "As always, discretion is paramount."

"But of course."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Robert, would you be a dear and watch the children?" Jean shifted in her seat, "I was hoping to speak with Hermione without the children for a moment."

Robert stood, "Just be sure to say good-bye before you leave honey." He paused kissing his daughter's cheek.

"Of course." She smiled back to her father before he stepped into the living room, leaving her alone with her mother. "Is everything alright with the children?"

The unease upon Jean's face lessoned instantly, "They are fine." She twirled her wine glass a moment, trying to decide the best way to broach a topic that had puzzled her for the last several weeks. One that her grandchildren had been quite vociferous about; especially as the weekend drew nearer. "However, I did wish to speak with you regarding the children's enthusiasm at seeing Aunt Minerva."

Hermione felt her muscles relax as her stomach oddly tensed for a moment regarding the course of the conversation. "She is the Headmistress at Hogwarts," Hermione continued on almost automatically, "You've met her before as she was the woman who delivered my Hogwart's letter and subsequently when I graduated from Hogwarts."

_She had been right,_ Jean thought. "And, she has remained the Headmistress?"

"She has, although," Hermione felt compelled to tell her mother more than she should, "She may leave after this term is finished."

"I imagine, as she stated that she was in her seventies when you were in school."

"She recently turned eighty-seven."

"And she is still teaching?" Disbelief ringing in Jean's words.

Hermione's heart sunk, "Yes. Magic folk age differently mother."

A dubious look passed over Jean's features, "Age differently?" She shook her head, "What type of absurd…"

"It's true." Hermione interjected, "Minerva is perhaps, middle age for a witch."

"You're telling me that an eighty-seven year old woman in the wizarding world is equivalent to a woman in their forties in the non-wizarding world."

"Yeah." Hermione nodded, "And she'll probably live well past a hundred and fifty."

"How is that even possible?"

"When I next see Helena, she is a very respected healer at St. Mungos, I shall ask her."

"And you?" Jean leaned forward, "Will you age as slowly as…you know, others?"

"Like Minerva?" Hermione asked for clarification.

Her mother mutely nodded, shocked at the notion.

"Yes, I will." She watched as Jean opened her mouth again, but Hermione knew the question already, and answered it without prompting. "As will Rose and Hugo."

Jean blinked back a sudden wave of tears, "Truly?"

A gentle expression came over her face as she nodded. "They'll live to be well past a hundred and thirty; and who knows, maybe upwards of a hundred and eighty."

"And there isn't an issue of overpopulation?"

"With wizarding wars, accidents, and disease; there is actually a scarcity of witches and wizards."

"What of the Headmistress? Well," Jean found herself stumbling backwards as she tried to correct her thought line, "Perhaps she is not a good example, as I doubt she has had time for a family."

Hermione frowned at her mother's gaffe, in more ways than one as her own back became slightly straighter. "Actually, she is a heart wrenching example of what has happened in the wizarding world over the last century. She has lost both of her siblings, her husband of forty years, both parents, two of her four children, a grandchild and I do not believe any of her aunts or uncles survived the first war she lived through either."

"And I am to presume that she is helping to neutralize the growing threat that you mentioned last month?"

"She has been instrumental in helping the wizarding world to prevail over the last three wars, and this one too."

"She sounds like…an amazing woman."

"She is." Hermione whispered more to herself than her mother, but at her mother's curious expression upon her face, she found herself quickly elaborating. "Minerva is one of, if not the premier witch in England; is the leading expert in the field of Transfiguration, the Headmistress of Hogwarts…"

"No wonder why the children enjoy spending time with her." Jean stated in realization. "As you seem too as well."

"Of course." The words falling from her lips without thought, "She's a good friend."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The fire flashed, "Minerva?" Helena's voice ringing outward.

"Yes." She answered, spinning around in her chair. "Problem?"

"I spoke with Charles, my compatriot at London Metro and between us, we can come up with four Jane and Joe Doe's over the next week."

"While wonderful news, Helena, I can't wait a full week."

"It isn't like either of us receive a plethora of mystery bodies on any given day."

"I know." Minerva sighed, biting back any further commentary, as Helena was doing everything in her power to help. "Thank you."

"I'll let you know when we have the first one." Helena's voice fading away as the fire reverted to normal.

Minerva stared at the flames for a moment before turning back to her desk, a menagerie of thoughts and feelings coursing through her, from a sprig of hope to a pit of despair brewing in her stomach. Either way, she'd have to speak with Warren.

"I'm sure she'll be able to provide the bodies." Dilys softly interjected, "As she has placed an additional dozen calls to other facilities and asked Charles to do the same."

Without so much as a nod, Minerva spun her chair back to her desk; Albus' voice trailing behind her. "Dily's is right, Helena will pull through."

"I do hope so." Minerva absently picked up her quill, banishing the splattered ink from her dropping it so quickly moments ago. "As I'll need one of the bodies starting tomorrow to transfigure them all by Monday evening, as I cannot afford to wait much longer, or I will have to ask Warren to sacrifice himself – "

"Tell me you are not going to tell Warren?" Disbelief ringing from Albus' portrait.

"He is one of three cousins I still speak with Albus after everything that happened from my youth; I owe it to him to tell – "

"No!" Albus' shrill word effectively ending her sentence. "How can you think to ask him or even tell him of this?"

The tip of her quill hadn't moved after Albus mentioned Warren's name; the ink spot having grown too well past the size of a galleon, as the tip pierced the moist parchment, imbedding itself into the desk before snapping apart. She could feel her ire spark in response to his own anger, her jaw tightening as she tried to keep her emotions in check; not wanting their exchange to disintegrate into yet another argument. "I promised him years ago that I'd always be honest with him," She slowly turned back around and peered into her husband's face. "And I mean to tell him about this Albus." Her voice matched the conviction contained within her eyes, "Either way."

"It'll be easier to leave things lay if you cannot save him." He whispered, desperately trying to help her see reason and spare both she and Warren from any unnecessary pain.

_Oh, how she'd love to slap him_, a stray thought passed through her consciousness as she slowly turned around; eyes ablaze with unadulterated fury at her husband's impudence, "And you saying that it'll be easier, is a fallacy; one I cannot swallow." She choked out.

"He'll run and Aegis will be killed." Albus tried another tact, hoping to appeal to her sense of duty at seeing this through; knowing that the more persons who knew the greater likelihood it would fail. _And to tell Warren of all people, why in Merlin's beard would she do that? He knew his wife had been stressed of late, but to tell a potential victim, strategically that was a poor move at best._

She stood, "Then he runs, as will Aegis." Her words were cutting, "But, you and I both know that is not what will happen."

"Minerva…" He tried again, "I cannot stress to you how unwise it is to tell him."

"It is not wise, but it is important that he knows."

_How could she not see reason? _He thought staring at his wife, disbelieving. "Why?" He asked, "So that you'll feel better."

A collective gasp swept through the gallery, Minerva's back became straighter, if at all possible at his comment; "So he has an ability to weigh in on what becomes of _his_ life. I am not god, Albus. And neither were you, he has a right to know."

"Minerva, please do not tell Warren; it will not go as you hope." He pleaded, hoping she will listen.

"As you have told me, and while I _do_ hear you; I am not you Albus, and I'm doing this my way." She swept away from her desk and her husband, "Warren will be told." Her words fluttered across the air as a soft pop resonated outward, the Headmistress having gone.

"Dammit…" Albus snapped, "Does she not realize what she is doing?"

No one commented, everyone's gaze cast downward and away from blue inquiring eyes, save for the Founders who as one exited their frame and Severus Snape who met Albus' gaze with his own hardened one. "You know better than anyone here that Minerva rarely, if ever, acts impulsively. Hence, I believe, she knows what she is doing. And I'd wager the whole of what remains in your Gringott's account that you do too." Albus opened his mouth, but Severus continued on unabated, "But, you have to accept that you are not in charge Albus. Nor do you have control over the world as you once did. You, like all of us, are relegated to the confines of a wooden frame amongst a prestigious gallery of like minds; but who are no longer able to exert influence as we once did. And despite being torn between two worlds," Severus' voice becoming oddly cold, detached. "You are still more here," He held his hands outward, exemplifying his meaning. "Than there, my friend; while your wife remains fixated where you cannot be. And you have to do what you have and always did do." A warmth lacing the last of his tirade, "Trust her, Albus."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva stretched, her back leg and hip pulling as she leaned forward, it had been far too long since she had transfigured into her animagus. And even longer still since she had run full tilt through the whole of Hogwarts. While she shouldn't have this evening, it enabled her to exercise some of the animosity out of her system after her disagreement with Albus, again.

A noise to the south caused her to pause in her stretching, and turn her head to the side; ears perked trying to ascertain the distance and age of the person. The childhood cadence caused her insatiable curiosity to flare, and with little more than a jolt, she was trotting up the eastern stairwell.

She found herself pausing at the sixth floor, and a smile innately pulling ever so much upon her lips; barely perceptible in her current form as she began trotting up the final set of stairs. Her curiosity satiated. Rose and Hugo had arrived.

Moments later, Minerva placed her paw upon the edge of the door that lead to her prior rooms, the cat notch opened and the children's laughter washed over her in waves. At once, she cantered forward; a rumble coming from above followed by an extremely soft, yet familiar voice.

"How are you doing, Minerva?"

She paused, glancing up, head tilting to the side; her tail swishing in the air.

Godric gave a nod, while he did not understand the whole of her meaning, he grasped the essentials. While she was doing better, she was still in no mode to deal with her husband. "I'll ask him to move to the Ridge for the evening."

Minerva pounced up onto the chair, and then the ledge; a purr emanating from her depths as she walked past his portrait; her appreciation clear.

"Enjoy the children, and goodnight." He whispered and at once stepped from his frame to take care of a relatively unpleasant task.

Minerva paused a moment, eyes scanning Hermione's den; knowing from the noise Rose and Hugo, along with their mother had migrated to the living room. Without effort, she jumped down and ambled forward, head tipping around the edge of the doorway enabling her to see into the living room. Her heart leaping at the sight of Hugo lying atop her mother's chest, reading; while Rose was sitting on the floor next to them, drawing.

"Do you think Aunt Minerva will animate these?" Rose asked, tipping her head back to ask her mom.

"I'm sure if you ask her, she will." Hermione stated.

Rose nodded, "And we'll see her this weekend?"

Hermione cast a glance down to her daughter, meeting young versions of her own eyes. "Yes, she is looking forward to seeing you this weekend."

"I am too." Rose turned her attention back to her drawing, Hermione glancing up; but paused, eyes noticing a slight movement towards her den and she focused her gaze and found herself blinking a second time, but as was before, there was nothing there. However, for a split second, she thought she saw green eyes from a cat.

"Hey," She kissed the top of Hugo's head, "Pumpkin, I need to get something from the den."

He clambered off, yawning as he did. "Alright, mum."

Wasting no time, Hermione stood and wandlessly cast a silencing charm behind her as she strode forward. She didn't see anyone else, more importantly – Minerva, as she stepped into the room; and as her eyes scanned along the wall, she didn't see a cat either. "Minerva?" She questioned, quickly casting a glance back to her children who were fine for another minute before walking further into her den. "Minerva?"

She waited another heartbeat, the result the same. Nothing. She turned to Godric's portrait, his visage appearing ghostlike; a sign that he was occupying two frames at once. "Godric." She watched as the ink in his portrait solidified.

"Yes, Hermione?" He inquired.

"Was Minerva here?"

Godric's visage remained blank as he answered the question as asked, "No, she has not been here."

Hermione absently nodded, "Thank you." She paused in turning, "Do you know if she has returned to Hogwarts?"

Godric inwardly sighed, as Minerva had returned just over three hours ago; and shortly thereafter she and Albus had yet…another row, causing her to flee her rooms for the last two hours. "She has."

"Could you send word that I'd like to speak with her for a moment this evening, if she has time?"

"Of course," He replied, but felt a nagging in his forgotten soul to impart a warning, "Though…" He cleared his throat, "Might I suggest that little business nor weighty matters are discussed. As she has had little respite these past few days."

"I know." Wisdom burning in brown depths, "I spoke with Harry."

"Ahh," Godric's heart lifted incrementally, "I see."

"I just wanted her to know that I am here for her."

"Then heed my words, Hermione; as she needs…" He found himself altering the word friend, because, at this juncture she required far more than a friend; and the man who used to occupy that role in her life was causing more consternation than Johannes at this point. "A shoulder to lean on, and if need be to cry on."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Godric's shoulders imperceptibly sagged at Minerva's remark. "She only wishes but a few minutes."

"And while I know she means well," Minerva unfastened the clasp along the shoulder of her robes, "I do not have the strength in me tonight to speak with her." A tired smile graced her lips, "For that, I am sorry Godric; but the fact remains, I am tired."

"I know." He conceded, as she had been up the whole of the night before trying to strategize on how to both save Warren and maintain the illusion of Aegis' allegiance to Johannes. "But, I don't believe it to be an arduous meeting."

Fingers poised upon her desk, Minerva momentarily thought of giving way and telling Godric that if Hermione could be there within the half hour she'd concede, but she couldn't. She had already invaded the woman's personal space, unknowingly upon Hermione's part, to find a moment of solace. And while she would invariably enjoy her company, the truth was simple; she was exhausted. "I am sure it is not. Ask her if she and her children would like to meet for breakfast, and after I will speak with her before we head to the Order meeting."

He knew better than to push any farther, and was about to nod when a subtle hand slipped upon his shoulder and Rowena's voice broke the stillness. "And if she is able to help in your plans to save Warren?"

Minerva fully stopped making her way to her rooms and turned to the portraits. "How does she know of Warren?"

Rowena turned expectantly to Godric, who in turn felt the slight push upon his back by another one of the Founders, "Tell her." Helga's nodded to Minerva.

"Potter." He answered without preamble, "She wishes to help."

Minerva sighed, feeling a burst of adrenaline, but after her jaunt this evening and having not slept the night before; her curiosity would have to remain till morning. "While interested, I will be asleep before the clock chimes ten; please relay my message Godric. We will see what she has to say tomorrow, goodnight."

Quietly, the three Founders watched her go before Godric cast a nod to Rowena and vanished to the Tower. He had a message to relay.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rose pushed again. Frowning. "Come on." She whispered, pushing again. "I know it's here." She stepped back and tipped her head to the side, brow furloughing as she tried to remember the door that had led her and her mom and Hugo to her Aunt's. She knew it was here. She just had to find it.

The firelight flickered across the sage green décor, and each time she thought she saw the door; she rush forward only to find it seemingly gone.

"Whatchya doing?" Hugo asked dragging his blanket behind, wondering why his sister was pushing on the wall.

"Trying to find the door to that leads to Aunt Minerva's room." Rose stated matter of factly.

Hugo yawned and pointed, "It's right there." He tiredly rubbed his eyes as he walked ahead. "Other way." He motioned to Rose. "There." He paused beside her, point at the base of the wall where there was a scribble mark from one of their crayons. "I marked it."

"You are brilliant!" Rose stated aloud, causing Hugo to put his finger to his mouth.

"Shhhh…mum's still sleepin'."

Rose nodded as she smiled, "Sorry. Now, we just got to figure out to open it."

"Ma…gic." Hugo stated through his yawn.

"We don't have a wand, silly." Rose admonished.

"So." Hugo countered, "Aunt Minerva didn't when she caused the door to appear."

Rose had opened her mouth to reproach him again, but found her brother's logic soundly accurate. "You're right."

It was Hugo's turn to smile, "I know." He stated to himself, starting to hum as his fingers traced along the wall.

"Keep doing what you're doing." Rose couldn't believe her eyes, her brother had caused an outline of the door to form.

"I'm just humming." He said turning, fingers leaving the wall.

"What are you humming?" She asked, standing next to him.

"I…uh…don't know the name. It's from Nana's and Peepaw's music box." He shook his head and started again.

Rose heard the faint notes, it was from their grandparents' music; Nana listened to it some evenings. She joined his hand and Hugo cast a brilliant smile as she started to hum too. Almost instantly after they both started, the door solidified and Rose reached up and opened it. "Come on."

"What about mum?" Hugo pointed to their mother's bedroom.

Rose yawned, "She's sleeping."

Hugo cast one final look to her bedroom and followed his sister into the dark hallway. "How we know where to go?"

Rose glanced to the left and then the right, trying to remember but the only thing she felt was scared. "I…don't remember. You?"

Hugo looked to the door and then the hallway and back, "Close it." He pointed to the door.

"You sure?" Rose reached up, starting to pull it close. "We won't be able to see."

Hugo bobbed his head, "Yup."

Rose paused, pulling Hugo's blanket all the way through before it closed and then as her brother said; magic. At least, it sure did seem like it as the whole hallway suddenly became lit; one way the lights were a green tint the other red. "We need to follow the green lights." Rose stated, reaching out and grasping her brother's hand. "That'll take us to Aunt Minerva's."

"She does like gween." Hugo tugged on his blanket as they went around the corner. "What if she's not waked up yet?"

"Sleepover." Rose stated matter a factly.

"Cool." Hugo said before another yawn momentarily blurred his vision.

They walked another thirty steps before the lights ahead suddenly became darker, Rose glanced to the approaching door and then down the darkening hall. "I think," She paused at the faint red door. "This is it."

"Try." Hugo pointed to the bronze knob.

"Remember, we have to be quiet." Rose whispered as she gently opened the door, both brother and sister peering cautiously inside.

"This is it." Hugo pushed it open farther, "It smells like her."

Rose followed her brother, accidently tripping on his blanket and stumbling into the room; causing a sconce to spring to life and they could see the couch and chairs they knew to be their Aunt's. Hugo started to head towards his Aunt's bedroom, but Rose stopped him a minute as she went back and closed the door. Hugo followed, and as soon as she was done, grasped her hand and pulled her to their destination. He stopped at the door and stretched upwards with his right hand; the tips of his fingers touching the middle of the knob and he cast a look back. "Rose…helps."

She nodded, "I got it." She whispered, moving around him; before turning the handle.

They both had expected the room to be basked in darkness, and were surprised to see a light on the far side of the room; and almost instantly hear the bed shift. Rose stood up on her tip toes, "Aunt Minerva?" She quietly whispered expecting to see her on the other side of the bed, but it was empty. Frowning, she scrambled forward, "She's not here, Hugo." She said scampering onto the bed.

"She's gots to be." He replied trying to follow, but could only get half way up. "Ro…se…" He muttered, feet dangling in the air, "Can't get," He tried hoisting himself up again, "Up."

And before Rose could help him, their Aunt materialized behind him. "Wow!" Rose said, "Aunt Minerva!"

Hugo turned his head; face beaming, "Aunt Merva!" He went to let go, but stopped as Minerva set her wand down on the edge of the bed. "Up you go, my little lad." She said as she hefted him onto the bed.

At once, he clambered around and both he and Rose flung their arms around her. "Hi!" They said in unison. "We came to visit." Rose said after giving her a quick kiss, followed by Hugo's far sloppier one on Minerva's cheek.

"I see." Minerva said, head tipped down so she could see over the rim of her glasses.

"Where'd ya come from?" Hugo peered over the edge of the bed, "We didn't see you." He cast a glance to Rose, "Did we?"

Minerva felt torn; she could either indulge their mischief and let them stay a wee bit or take them back to their mother. It was just before three in the morning, after all; and they needed their sleep. As did she, though, it would a fifty percent chance on whether or not she'd fall back asleep tonight. She had already slept over four hours, and had begun reading a boring historical rendition of Cristal's battle to aid her in her sleep efforts. Hence, the children were welcome diversion. One, she felt inclined to indulge if only for a wee bit…

She tucked her right hand slightly behind her back, the tips of her fingers having becoming moderately burnt from her animagus transformation; as she picked up her wand in her left hand. "I'm an animagus." She said, as she walked around the bed; while the children walked atop it to the far side.

"What's that mean?" Rose asked kneeling at the edge of where the cover had been thrust backward.

"I can change into a cat."

"Do it again!" Hugo said as he bounced next to his sister.

"Not tonight," Minerva set her wand on her nightstand, "But before you return to your grandparents' home I will show you."

"Promise?" A yawn trailing her question.

"Yes." Minerva answered, "Now, what do I owe the honor of your visit?" She questioned as she too sat on the bed, debating on whether to grasp her robe, as her nightgown was not suitable for visitors; but opted not to worry about as her current visitors would not know the difference. And, she did not wish to wear her robe to bed.

"We wanted to see you." Rose simply stated.

"Yup." Hugo pulled his blanket closer, "We did."

"And how did you manage to come all the way up here?"

"We used the red door from your room." Rose pointed out of her bedroom door, "With the hallway."

"Had to make it dark first," Hugo curled up on the pillow, "To find you."

"And does your mother know you came here?" Minerva asked, and tried not to smile as Rose looked to Hugo who frowned and shook his head, while she tried to continue looking elsewhere. "I see." Minerva finally stated, "Did you leave her a note telling her where you were going?"

Rose's head remained bent down, lip pinched by her tooth; "No." She murmured, "We thought you would be sleeping." Rose cautiously raised her eyes, "So, we could come sleepover too; and go back in the morning. Mom will say it's all right; she likes you. Please say we can stay tonight, Aunt Minerva. Please…"

"Yeah, pleeze Aunt Merva." Hugo joined his sister's chorus despite his drooping eyes.

Minerva's heart melted and she found herself consenting. "Very well." The words no sooner left her lips and Rose gripped her into a bear tight hug.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Alright," Minerva eyed the bed and then glanced to the loo; "Have you both been to the bathroom since you woke up."

At their chagrined faces, Minerva stood back up; "Rose, please take your brother and go to the bathroom." Both of them opened their mouth, but stopped short at seeing her brow arch. "I'll be along in a minute," She stated and after one more look, Rose scampered down as did Hugo; both disappearing into her bathroom.

She summoned her walking stick and gingerly made her way into her small office; where she penned a two lined note to Hermione letting her know that her children were safe and she'd explain in the morning. Upon sealing the parchment, Minerva took a moment and focused; picturing her old rooms, the living suite, bedrooms and den before overlaying the furniture and with effort she realigned the wards and a muffled crack split the air; signaling her letter had been delivered.

With a wave, the candle went out and she made her way back to her room just as Hugo and Rose stepped out of the bathroom; their pajamas bearing the evidence that they did indeed wash their hands.

"Good job." Minerva stated as she came around the side; setting her walking stick against the wall before helping Hugo up into her bed.

"What's that for?" Rose asked pointing to the wooden stick her aunt had just been using.

"I have a bad leg, my dear and it helps me walk." Minerva replied, "Now, if you are both going to stay here this evening, I do need a bit more room so I can sleep here too."

At once, both children moved over; enabling Minerva to slide in. And before she could get both legs under the covers; Hugo climbed over her while Rose nestled in on her right side and Hugo on her left.

"Told ya…" Hugo burrowed into Minerva's side. "It smelled like her."

"Smelled like whom?" Minerva bent her head down, glasses interfering with her vision and she reached up, peeling them off.

"You." He placed his arm atop her waist, "When we came here."

"That's how we knew we were in the right place," Rose whispered as she snuggled against Minerva's shoulder and the pillow.

Minerva set her glasses down on the nightstand as she turned off the touch light. "And what do I smell like?"

Hugo's singular word bringing tears to Minerva's eyes. "Home."

Minerva's heart swelling with love as she steadied her voice, "Goodnight my wee lad and lass." She whispered, kissing the top of both of their heads.

Neither one responded, at least in words; as Hugo's breathing was already leveling off as was Rose's and before too long, Minerva felt her eyes growing heavy too.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: First, thank you very much for the wondrous responses to my query; I was floored with everyone's feedback. Thank you!_

_As always, it seems that our little duo has once again stolen the 'day'; hope you didn't mind. _


	59. Chapter 56 December 12th, 2009

**Chapter 56 ~ December 12****th****, 2009 (Saturday)**

The night had passed in aimless reflection across two dozen portraits, bringing little solace to his thoughts or significance to his evening since departing Hogwarts. He did not understand how Minerva could talk with Warren and relay the possibilities; and for her to think either of them were God was ludicrous. He merely wanted her to be cautious and plan accordingly.

Severus had been accurate, he did and always had trusted her; and this was no different. He only worried that her plans would not go as designed and she'd be faced with the disheartening reality of her cousin knowing that she'd sent him to his death. He knew that her heart couldn't take it; not the death of another loved one.

He had born witness through the years, and then felt her pain through their bond later in life. At first, when he had felt her remorse, it had been nothing short of staggering; ripping his breath away. He learned it was compounded by the guilt she still carried from her parents passing, her brother and the estrangement of what remained of her extended family and clan. And then…they lost her younger brother. And then their son. His wife. Their grandchild.

The pain had been…crushing.

And yet, somehow they had survived. Whether they had wanted to or not.

As life, in its typical fashion, went on.

The years passed, the pain began to marginally lessen; only to become exemplified in a way that neither could ever have foreseen or imagined.

His death.

A rueful noise slipped past his lips at the irony of it all. He had been cursed the summer before; their bond having saved him much as it had saved Minerva at the end of term. However, they learned that their blessing would be at best, short lived. As the curse he had been exposed to would claim his life; and much to his dismay, hers as well.

He had wished to separate, save her life; she wished to remain bound – her logic, though, had been irrefutable.

_"I love you Albus; and for better or worse wished to remain bound…"_

_ "At best we'll live two maybe three years." His voice pinched, "You could live for decades longer, Minerva I beg…"_

_ "And if we become unbound; what then?" She snapped, irritated. "You'll be dead within the week."_

_ "Minerva…"_

_ "Don't Albus." She cut off his words, "Don't." She said holding up her hand, the stiffness in her own movements easily felt by him, as it resonated across his own hand. "I can't hear it. And I won't." Her jaw rippled as he felt her control over her emotions slip and a damn of emotion plowed through him, "I love you. And I'd much prefer two or three years than a week. Wouldn't you?"_

_ "I am so much older, it is not even a choice my dear. I would choice a life with you."_

_ "And if age were not a factor? Like Pernelle and Nicolas?"_

_ He recalled their long conversation and the necessary demise of the Sorcerer's Stone, and what that would mean to the Flammel's. They had chosen to share their elixir while they put their affairs in order, versus elongating one life or the other. "I'd still choose you."_

_ "And do you think I value our love any less?" He stuttered in response, she continued on. "It was never a choice for me Albus."_

The first hints of dawn were beginning to stretch across the sky, and he found the hint of mauve and purple merely another indicator that the day was starting out as anything but normal. Much like last night had been.

Not only had he felt a peculiar contentment settle upon their bond shortly after three, but this morning still found her sleeping past six. His curiosity piqued as to what manner or miracle had enabled his wife a moment of peace in these trying times.

Sighing, he glanced at the clock again. 6:22.

He settled himself into his chair; it would be another two hours before she'd depart Hogwarts and join him at the Ridge. Perhaps they'd have time to speak before the Order meeting; he thought while pulling his last lemon drop from his robe.

**

* * *

Oxox

* * *

**

Hermione turned over, stretching as she yawned; blinking the last vestiges of sleep away as she glanced at her clock. It was after seven.

After seven! She sat up, throwing her covers off, panic coursing through veins as her children would have been up well over an hour ago. She grasped her robe, a piece of parchment falling to the floor and with a motion, which she summoned before she slipped on her robe while hurriedly stepping from her bedroom.

Her fingers absently parted the wax seal, noting the quiet oddity that existed within her suite. "Rose?" She called out, "Hugo?"

And not only was there no noise, but no mess.

"Rose?" She hurriedly crossed the living room, opening the door expecting to see her daughter sitting on the floor; Hugo pouncing about on her bed, as she drew another scene she wished to be animated by Minerva. However, only an empty room with rumpled covers greeted her eyes. "Hugo?" She spun around, heart hammering in her chest as she flung open his door, to find a similar scene.

"Milksy!" Panic lacing her voice as a hundred scenarios of what had happened to her children sprung through her head.

At once, the diminutive elf appeared, worry prevalent upon her features, "What is the matter Miss Hermione's?"

"The children." She pointed to the bed, "Have you seen them? Were they taken? Do you know…"

"It is okays." Milksy laid her hand upon the anxious woman, "They'se is fine."

"Where are they?" Hermione asked, feeling marginally better that Milksy knew where they were.

"With the Mistress." She answered plainly.

"Huh?" Hermione asked dumbfounded. She had expected any number of things, from them getting out of their rooms to being in the hospital wing, or even…Merlin forbid, having somehow have been kidnapped. But with Minerva…? How, when…was that even possible?

"The Mistress." Milksy reiterated, pointing to the note. "She left word."

"Oh," Hermione glanced down, noticing the note clutched within her hand. As she brought it up, she immediately recognized Minerva's script.

_Hermione,_

_ Your children are fine and with me. It seems that they wished to visit. I shall explain in the morning._

_ Minerva_

Hermione reread the note twice, before glancing back up to Milksy. "How long have they been with the Mistress?"

Milksy knew that the question, while sounding innocent would do nothing but get the little ones in trouble. "Since quite early."

"And how did they get there?" Hermione pushed on.

Milksy shrugged, "I'se do nots know. Elgin though, was rather perplexed this morning."

"And they are there now?"

Tiny ears bobbed, "Yes, they are getting ready to eat breakfast."

"Can you ask Elgin if he'd be kind enough to send another cup to Minerva's room?" Hermione said walking past Milksy and to her rooms.

"There is already a setting for you, Miss Hermione."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva felt the gargoyle activate, "Your mother is on her way up here." Minerva pointed to the door that led to the mystic stairs.

Both children set their juice down, flying around the table and to the door; just as Hermione stepped through, immediately waylaid by her children.

"Mom!"

"Mum!"

"And what mischief have you been up to this morning?" She asked while picking up Hugo and kissing Rose's cheek.

"None, mom." Rose said as she grasped her hand, "We were having breakfast, want some?"

"Frenge toast." Hugo pointed back to the table, squiggling to get down.

"French." Hermione corrected.

"Yeah." Hugo murmured, "That." He darted back toward his waiting breakfast as soon as his toes touched the ground.

"Coming, mom?" Rose tugged on the sleeve of her robe.

She rubbed the top of her daughter's head, as she glanced up to see an amused woman staring back. "Good morning, Minerva."

"And to you, Hermione." Minerva reached out, picking up her tea cup. "Please, join us."

"Yeah, mom." Rose continued pulling her mom's sleeve. "There's French toast, eggs, a round stuff;" She said pointing at Canadian bacon, "It's good, and just plain toast."

Hermione sat opposite of Minerva, next to Rose; while Hugo scooted closer to Minerva. "This all looks delicious." She said peering up at Minerva, not recalling having ever seen Canadian bacon or even French Toast upon the tables at the Great Hall.

Minerva noted Hermione's perplexed look, "There are a few perks to being the Headmistress."

"Just a few?" Hermione quipped as she poured a cup of coffee.

"Of late," Minerva gently replied, "Yes, just a few."

Hermione glanced up at the quiet sentiment, an unspoken moment of understanding passing between them; before Hugo handed his sticky fork to Minerva.

"More?" Hugo licked his lips, "Pleeze?"

"You have to have another bite," Minerva took the offered utensil, piercing a piece of banana. "Of fruit first."

His face scrunched up, head shaking. "No."

"And what if it magically turns into a…"

"Cat?" Hugo asked, suddenly interested in the pale fruit. "Likes you?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes as if in thought, "I was thinking of turning it into a fish."

Hugo frowned, "Why a fish?"

Mirth lined green eyes, "Because that's what cats like to eat."

Hermione's jaw slackened at how Hugo's head bobbed up and down at the idea; because he hated most fruit. And the fruit he did eat was only under duress. She felt a burst of magic and the banana morphed into a fish, Hugo eagerly reaching up and taking the fork; smile on his face as he gazed at it before chomping down on the item. "Like that?" Banana mush easily seen as he asked the garbled question.

"Just like that, but we mustn't talk with our mouths full." Minerva directed, "Now, did you want a second piece of French toast?"

Hugo nodded, but also pointed to the dish of fruit after he swallowed. "Fish too."

"That's called a banana, dear."

"Yeah," Hugo said, "That."

"You have to say it." Minerva magically floated a piece of French toast onto his plate.

"Banna." Hugo pointed, "Pleeze."

"How does three more pieces sound?" Minerva asked leaning down to look into his face.

"As fish?" Hugo reached over to grab the syrup, but Hermione picked it up first.

"I'll pour." She stated leaning over to drizzle some syrup on his toast, as three pieces of banana appeared in a morphed version on the side of his plate. Hugo didn't wait, jamming his fork into the bananas.

"Slow down, Hugo." Minerva commented as Hermione sat upright again; utterly amazed at the woman opposite of her. "You need to chew first."

He opened his mouth to speak but Minerva shook her head, "No talking while chewing." She interjected and he clamped his mouth close.

"I am curious, how you got to Minerva's last night?" Hermione asked Rose.

Hugo sputtered a response drawing an admonishing stare from his aunt. "The hallways." He turned to Minerva, "Sorry." He closed his mouth to finish chewing his bite.

"Hallways?" Hermione turned to Minerva. "As in the inner passageways that you and Filius use?"

"Yes." Minerva succinctly answered.

"How did they…" She turned to Rose, "Did you find the doorway?"

Rose blanched and turned to Minerva, face wide-eyed and fretting.

"I spoke with both Rose and Hugo this morning," Minerva easily drew Hermione's gaze, "And I believe I know how they were able to access the internal passageways."

"How?" Hermione questioned, still not believing that her children had managed to access passageways that were hidden from all but the Deputy and Head of Hogwarts.

"When my children were here, we permitted them usage of the passageways between our rooms, the north wing, the outer north doors and along with the kitchens. Last night's jaunt by your children highlighted a slight oversight by Albus and I; as it seems we never sealed the doorways."

Hermione frowned, "Then why can't I see them?"

"We can't either." Rose spoke up.

"Nope." Hugo chimed in.

"They remain invisible." Minerva explained.

"Then how did they manage to find the door, let alone open it?"

"By humming." Rose said proudly.

Hermione stared at Rose for almost a full minute before lifting her gaze to Minerva. "Humming?"

"A particular tune will create the passage, which our young lad seems to have an affinity for." Minerva remarked.

"What tune, Hugo?"

Hugo shook his head, "Nope. Can't tell you." He pierced another piece of toast, "Just me and Rose."

Hermione turned to Rose, "What tune, honey?"

Rose shook her head, brown curly locks flying side to side. "Just me and Hugo know mom. Sorry."

Brown eyes flickered to green, "I am sorry, Hermione. However, I cannot divulge how to access the passageways. And I have had to ask your children not too either, as…" She paused, careful not to divulge too much. "I do not wish to alter the wards."

"You mean my children will be able to traverse through the inner passageways of Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"But I have walked through them." Hermione countered. "Why can't I access them?"

"You have, but you haven't accessed them on your own; Hermione nor has the Head of Hogwarts or Deputy granted you access."

"But, since Rose and Hugo have, they can access the passageways when they want too?"

"We spoke about when they could and could not use the doorways this morning, didn't we?" She asked the children.

They both nodded, "Yup." They chorused.

"And," Hermione turned to Rose, "When can you use the doorways?"

Rose turned to Minerva who nodded for her to go ahead, "She said," Rose returned her full attention to her mother, "We cans use them to visit once per weekend."

"With…" Minerva prompted.

"Yeah," Rose's voice dropped, "With you knowing and saying it's okay."

"And if your mother doesn't know?" Minerva asked.

"We's can't come no more." Hugo sighed, glancing to his sister, "Why didn't you'se tell mum befores we left?"

"She was sleeping." Rose replied.

"And if you want to come in the middle of the night again, are you allowed?" Minerva continued on.

Both Rose and Hugo shook their head no. "Not unless mom knows and with your okay."

"Do you remember why?" Minerva gently inquired.

"We don't want to worry mom and you…" Rose turned to her aunt, "You said you might be busy and not able to see us." She took a step closer to Minerva, her fingers picking at the emerald sleeve. "I still don't understand why you wouldn't want to see us?"

"I do, lass." She whispered, heartfelt. "However, there are times during my day that I am extremely busy and as much as I'd enjoy spending time with you; I have to deal with Hogwarts' business."

"Like helping dad and Uncle Harry stop bad wizards?"

"I don't do that often, Rose;" Minerva was about to explain, but stopped. It didn't matter, the only aspect that did was the time she did or did not spend with the children. Much like when hers were younger. "But yes. Something like that."

Rose sighed, "And you also help all kinds of older kids learn how to do magic, right?"

"As does your mother." Minerva expanded.

Rose glanced to her mother and back, "I'll ask first." Rose murmured, "But does that mean no more sleepovers?"

Thankfully, Hermione was saved from having to come up with an answer; which she had no clue as to how she would answer. Her daughter had just…well…she had just, invited herself and her brother into Minerva's life, without so much as a blink as if she had just asked her for a glass of milk and there was nothing extraordinary about it.

"I believe we can do a sleepover during the Holidays," Minerva committed to, "But…" She forced a smile on her face to hide the pain within her heart, "After that, we'll need to wait for a while. I don't know when I'll have time again."

"What about during the summer?" Rose's face beaming at the suddenly brilliant idea.

Hermione caught the imperceptible wince as it flashed across regal features, along with the flux in the tenor in her voice as she answered. "We'll see, alright?" Minerva swallowed hard as she quelled the bile at the back of her throat.

"Yup." Rose said, turning back to her breakfast.

Minerva's eye noticing Hermione's steady gaze upon her, and she feigned a smile hoping beyond hope that Hermione had not caught her slip; but knowing that the odds were against it.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I'm afraid I have to go as well." The soft tenor easing the news to the children.

Rose looked from her mom to her aunt and back again, shoulders sagging. "Alright."

"Elgin." Minerva called out.

Rose and Hugo both jumped back as Elgin appeared beside them, and unlike Milksy, did it with a barely perceptible pop. "You'se quiet." Hugo stated in awe.

"Mistress?"

"Would you please escort Rose and Hugo back to Hermione's rooms? Milksy will be

waiting."

"Of course," He reached out, barely touching Rose and Hugo; but Rose's voice stilled their departure.

"Will we see you again before we leave?"

"I do not know, Rose." Minerva honestly answered, "But if not, I will see you both before Christmas."

Hugo slipped from Elgin, walked over and reached up, intent clear. He wanted a hug. Minerva knelt down, wrapping her arm around his small body as he squeezed her neck; "Thanks for being a cat this morning." He whispered, though, it was still loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You're welcome lad." She let go as did he. "Be good for your mother."

"Yup." He bounded back to Elgin as Rose scampered over and gave her a hug too.

"Bye, Aunt Minerva." She kissed her cheek. "And, yes, I'll be good." She said, already anticipating her aunt's comment.

"Remember, the passageways are…" Minerva looked expectantly at the children.

"A secret." They replied in stereo.

"And you only can use them when?"

"With mom's okay." They both answered again.

Minerva gave a subtle nod to Elgin, and with a pop they were gone; leaving Minerva and Hermione alone. Minerva remained motionless a moment, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable questions and comments – her respite over.

"Thank you." Hermione stated, hoping the simple proclamation would stymie the walls that she could see Minerva already erecting after her children's departure.

Minerva lifted her gaze, before pushing herself upright. "It is not I, rather your children who should be thanked." Minerva picked up her tea cup, "They helped bring life back into perspective." She took a hearty swallow, finishing her tea. "And it was most needed this week."

Hermione met emerald eyes, noting the lack of walls and overall openness returning her gaze. "I'm sorry about Warren." She quietly stated, hoping she wasn't being presumptuous; but needing to take the opportunity to talk about it. Because, she had been trying to for two days to no avail; and she was afraid that if she didn't talk about it now, they wouldn't. "And that Harry told you." Hermione continued on, her own feelings finding voice. "He should have tried to find a solution before further burdening you."

"Oh, Hermione…I wish it was as simple as a burden, but you should know now that it is not." She gave her a soft smile, sitting. "Nor was Harry the only person who shared with me Warren's potential fate."

"Who else knows?" Hermione sat opposite perplexed.

"The warning came through Aegis, and whether through happenstance or not, Draco learned of the news thereby relaying it to Harry." She finally set her cup back upon the table.

Realization dawned upon Hermione. "They don't know Lucius is helping you or Aegis."

"No," Minerva stated, "Nor can they know. Lucius is balancing on a precarious edge and Aegis…" Her countenance became troubled, "Is trying to walk where Lucius cannot."

"Why doesn't Lucius let Draco know he's helping you?"

"Primarily, for Draco's welfare; and his grandson's. He doesn't want Scorpio growing up without a father."

"But Draco's still putting himself at risk."

"Comparatively minor to what Lucius has been involved with of late." Minerva expanded.

Hermione wanted to ask what she meant; but held her question, knowing that if Minerva had wished to share she would have. "Is he involved with Harkiss believing Warren is your secret keeper?"

"I'm afraid that is Johannes' own machination." Minerva's jaw involuntarily tightening. "Derived from one of many conversations regarding family and friends."

"You've never mentioned Warren," Hermione gently directed, immediately feeling the effect as the room's temperature spiked. "Is he a close friend?"

"Rather a cousin."

_He was family, _Hermione fought to keep the shock from her face. _Oh, shit. _She thought, _Johannes was going after the last of her family._ "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had family left."

"Not much." Minerva's succinct reply was punctuated by a catch in her voice that didn't not go unnoticed by Hermione; concern flashing across the younger woman's features. And Minerva felt…compelled to reveal a hint of what had transpired all those years ago; despite the pressing Order meeting, the items that Bonnie had wished to go over, amongst the litany of issues Elgin needed answers to as well. "After Grindlewald…" Minerva's fingers tightened against themselves, the recanting of the time and events were still almost as painful as having lived through them. "There were very few members of the McGonagall family alive along the wizarding blood lines; mostly second cousins, an uncle and two aunts from my father's side who lived in the Highlands, and their respective son and daughter besides Derrick and I. I…" She could still hear her Uncle's cuttingly harsh words as he blamed her for his brothers and sisters death; "Had made some decisions during the war, that while seemed right at the time, had unforeseen repercussions." She finally brought her gaze to meet Hermione's, "After the war, the Council of Elders met and I was banished from the McGonagall clan."

Hermione hadn't known what she had expected; _maybe a falling out with her uncle and aunts, but banishment? _She was flabbergasted, stunned, and in a state of disbelief. _How and why would her clan banish her? And…what of her brother? Hadn't she already suffered enough?_

"For close to two decades." Minerva trudged on, purposefully ignoring Hermione's questioning face, "During that time, there were three members of the family whom I remained in contact with; one was Warren." She preempted one question, as she expanded her answer to include all three family members, "Also his mother, my Aunt Ria; and Chloe, a second cousin. To this day, I have remained close the them and their respective families; but the rest of my relations I have," She paused as she sought for an apropos phrase, "Not remained nearly as close for a sundry of reasons. Mostly involving Clan politics and fiduciary reasons."

Hermione blinked, realizing that Minerva had indeed finished; and she couldn't stop the obvious question from stumbling across her lips. "Why were you banished? You had just helped overcome Grindlewald, save Europe, the wizarding world; you yourself had lost your parents, brother and countless other friends and family members. What reason could they possibly have had to banish you?"

Perhaps…it was her fatigue. Her constant and draining fights with Albus. That she needed to talk to someone. Not that she couldn't talk to Helena or Rory; but of late, her conversations with Helena dealt with what couldn't be changed, her impending death or matters that _had _to be dealt with for Hogwarts or St. Mungos or their children or goodness knew. And Rory; had far more important matters to contend with. Not that he wouldn't say that hers were by far and large more important; but really, how often does one fall in love?

And that lead her back to Hermione. She had learned a variety of things about her and she hadn't passed judgment. Hadn't pitied her. Had accepted her, for her. Not the woman everyone perceived her to be. It could have been any one of the aforementioned, and it could have simply been that she found Hermione's company; consoling and at times, comforting. However, no matter the reason, Minerva found herself quietly answering, "Upon my Callum's death, a note was left requesting that I relinquish my father's Arthimancy journals to Grindlewald or he'd kill the remainder of my family until I did."

Hermione recalled an earlier conversation with Helena, and the events now being discussed. Events Helena had relayed so matter a factly, as if imparting simple facts that held little or no meaning; like her best friend had fallen off a bike and not that her best friend had suffered a horrific set of events when she was only seventeen. It had made sense – had been simply black and white; a fact which had led her to believe she had learned another nuisance of Minerva. However, that fact which had been relayed so blasé, so nonchalant, as if it had been just another footnote in the annals that helped to craft the woman, Minerva McGonagall. But, that fact…that simple seemingly nonchalant fact, was _anything _but simple and held far more relevance than she had ever imagined or thought possible. It was now staring back at her – not as a simple dictation or footnote, but the mournful, harrowing truth was spilling across time from emerald windows that seemed to bear a fraction of Minerva's soul and it was ripping her heart out. Hermione whispered a response that she already knew. One she had easily surmised when it had been a _mere _fact, and not an integral piece of Minerva's life. "You didn't give it to him."

"At first, I didn't even know where they were." Minerva recalled as shaking hands pulled the bloody note from the door. "I…was stunned, heartsick. I had arrived back from Hogwarts; my parents and Callum both leaving slightly before me. Derrick was riding the train, I had wished to stay a few moments to finalize plans with everyone." She could still hear Lizza ribbing Digs while Helena and Peter shared a soft kiss, "We were going to Egypt. A celebration of sorts considering the mischief we had always found ourselves in, and yet, had somehow managed to graduate. I apparated home, Helena joining me…" Tears welled in her eyes, "We arrived at the gates, blood was everywhere." Her voice broke, lilt highly prevalent and laden with emotion. "At first I had thought it a sick ruse, a prank." The bone chilling squeak from the gate as it opened, "Until I entered the property. Fifteen house elves met me at the gate, including Bonnie. She informed me there had been an attack upon my family after they had returned from Hogwarts. I learned much later, that there was never a fight. The witches and wizards had been waiting for their return. If I had accompanied them home…" She let her words trail off; the truth even now was hard to bear.

Hermione could see the heartache, the pain; but it didn't negate the simple truth. "You probably would have been killed."

"Aye." Minerva agreed, "I would have. I was young, foolish and head strong."

"What happened?"

Minerva took a long breath, steadying herself. "They asked father for the journals, and he wouldn't provide them."

Hermione's stomach churned at what Minerva might relay, she could only imagine and frankly didn't want to. A parent having to watch as their child died.

"So, they cast the Cruciatus curse upon mother; long and hard enough until she spat up blood before releasing it. He still refused. They did the same to Callum. And although it haunted him until his death, father didn't relinquish them. They sliced off Callum's right arm and somewhere in that time, mother managed to touch the gates."

"The house elves." Hermione whispered, drawing a nod from Minerva.

"They came and managed to save my parents, but not Callum. And they paid dearly as well. Five elves were killed outright, two who placed themselves between my parent's and the killing curse. Another three died from wounds sustained during the fight. Bonnie's mother being one." Her voice becoming self reflective. "I don't remember much of the afternoon, just flashes really. I recall asking Helena to get Rory. I remember reading the note. Trying to clean the blood off the lawns…before Derrick got home." She paused, as the memory washed over her, "Taking Callum's body and having it wrapped; before placing him in the wine cellar. I remember still being down there when Derrick came home…"

_"Minerva." The stair creaked, and she couldn't bring herself to turn. To move. To say anything. Her fingers still laying atop Callum's remains, "Helena said that you were here and…"_

_ It was the sudden stop, the sharp intake of breath that had forced her gaze away from one brother's body to see the rapidly paling one upon the steps._

_ "Who…is…" His voice broke as it had during puberty. "That?" Eyes filled with panic, pain, horror had snapped to hers; "Min….erva."_

_ She couldn't stop the tears from slipping off her cheeks as she stood; she didn't remember crossing the distance between them; but she could still remember the way his arms had tightened across her waist in a bone crushing hug as she whispered the answer._

"Telling him that our brother had been killed. A few days later, we buried him in the family's plot; no service, no memorial; just the two of us."

"What about your parents?"

"They returned two weeks later." She could still see the sheer relief in both her parents' eyes as they were pulled into a lengthy family hug, "They had both been taken to healers, their own injuries from the afternoon having been significant. Due to the nature of their attack, the healers hadn't let them send word or leave."

"And what happened with the journals?"

"I had found them the week prior;" She had sent Derrick to Helena's after they buried Callum, before she ransacked the house and its entirety. "Though they made little sense to me, I was never one to spend great lengths of time on Arthimancy. And even after, have found little use to trying to calculate the future. Upon father's return, we spoke at length regarding the contents; and I made a commitment to him at that time that I would never relinquish his journals."

"And you didn't." Hermione whispered, wondering if her father had known what he was asking of his daughter.

"In the end, I did not." Minerva admitted, "But, for a time, I was greatly tempted."

"Do you think…" Hermione leaned incrementally forward, "That your father knew what he was asking of you?"

"Part of me believes he did, the other part; no." Minerva expanded upon her answer, "While a Master in the field; he was just as fallible as every other person. He wasn't a God or a prophet who could see into the future. He took the information he had at the time, and did mathematical equations. The farther from the point of reference, the greater their inaccuracies. So, while he may have known that there would be hardships for both Derrick and I; as to their extent, no I don't believe it was possible for him to realize or calculate."

Hermione shifted not sure how to ask the obvious, without…asking. Clearing her throat, she plunged ahead, "If your father was that good of an Arthimancer, then didn't he know that there would be men awaiting their return from Hogwarts and the outcome?"

"He did." Minerva offered no more explanation, no additional details; just two simple words.

"Then why go?" Hermione asked dumbfounded.

"The same reason he went to the warehouse and mother joined him, why Adam and Victoria were in Edinburgh and why he went home after his stay at St. Mungos." Minerva countered, "Because they live their lives based on calculations and odds; and for whatever reason he believed, he thought the family's best odds of surviving was if they went home that afternoon."

Hermione frowned, "Didn't he ever tell you his reasoning?"

"He tried, but I was somewhat impetuous in my youth and by the July had enlisted in the war efforts. Father used his influence to keep me posted within England; but…our relationship was never the same."

"Then you never reconciled with him?" Hermione's question laced with trepidation. There was a pregnant pause, and Hermione wondered if she had pushed too far.

"No." The tenor belaying the depth of her pain, "As he and mother were killed the following year; however, he did leave me a…"

A sharp crack cut off her sentence, startling both women as Bonnie turned to Minerva. "I am sorry, Mistress; but…" Her face holding a look of concern. "You did not send word and Miss Tessa along with Master Percival have arrived."

Hermione quickly inferred what Bonnie was talking about; the Order meeting. Minerva must usually meet with her children or Helena prior to and she had not yet arrived.

A sad smile crossed Minerva's face, "Yes, I'm sure they have."

Hermione could see the tenuous walls begin to erect and rebuild; duty had called, and the weary woman would answer. And from the incremental way Bonnie's shoulders dropped, she was sure the faithful elf had seen the shift in Minerva's demeanor too.

"If you'd tell them I was delayed with…" Her eyes slid to Hermione, "An unexpected guest and will be there shortly. And if you have not; please stoke the fires in the hall."

"The fires were stoked this morning." Bonnie hated to broach the topic especially with Hermione present, but she knew that the Mistress' son and daughter would most certainly question her upon returning. "However, the children were most insistent regarding some time with you prior to the meeting." She involuntarily shifted onto her other foot, "As they had tried to see you here before arriving at the residence, however, your floo was closed."

_Elgin, _Minerva inwardly mused, _Bless his little heart. He must have closed them when I fell back asleep._ _But why would they come here and then the residence, unless there was a problem. _She sighed, "I'll ask Elgin to reopen the floo; ask that they come here."

"Very well." Bonnie replied, finally turning to Hermione. "Good morning, Hermione." She tipped her head in respect and with a barely perceptible pop was gone leaving a myriad of unanswered questions between the two women.

Hermione had every intention of leaving, but Minerva was already standing. "If you will wait a few moments, I will be back." She swept away, shoulders and back becoming slightly more rigid as she drew near the stairs. "Elgin," Her voice ringing out and into her office. He appeared to the side of the landing as she stepped upon it.

"Mistress."

"If you could be so kind and reopen the floo. It seems my children wish a word." Minerva began to descend and Elgin was about to respond, but his gaze caught sight of the woman still within his Mistress' suite. Without thought, he cocked his head to the side, question easily prevalent; as their eyes momentarily locked. _Why was she still there?_

And as Hermione watched Elgin vanish, Hermione could help wonder why as well. However, she remained, ears perked…waiting for what she didn't know. Her mind, however, was combing through the startling account Minerva had shared with her. _No wonder why she so rarely lets people in. To have lost her brother…_

"Mother." Hermione frowned at the sudden sharp tenor, followed by what could only be her son's voice. "We just heard."

"And good morning to the both of you as well." Minerva admonished, "Now, what was so important that could not wait."

"We are to have the family dinner at the Manor?" Tessa rebuked. "What if…"

"Yes, we are." Minerva interjected, "And no." She countered before a rebuttal could be argued, "It is not open for discussion. It will be at the Manor this year for innumerable reasons, the primary one is time and energy."

"Then cancel the gala on the 21st." Hermione felt her jaw drop at Tessa's remark; she could only imagine Minerva's expression.

"Is this why you have come this morning?" Minerva asked, "About the gathering and location, or was there something of relevance?"

_Talk about total drop and redirection, _Hermione thought as the room remained eerily quiet for several seconds.

"Bonnie indicated that Rory was bringing someone over for you to meet on Sunday." Percival's harmonic voice tentatively broached.

_What!_

"Do you think it wise?" Tessa questioned, Hermione absently nodding in agreement. "I mean, it's not that we don't think you should, you know…not be happy mother. But…it's sudden, and with the holidays and…"

A ripple of laughter echoed across the Headmistress' office and into her suite. And despite the utter shock Hermione had found herself in by the comments, the musical cadence felt like tiny bubbles breaking across the top of her skin.

"It is Rory bringing someone with him," Minerva's lilt holding some of her previous humor, "For him. Not I." Hermione felt her chest become incrementally lighter and heavier all at the same time. Her next though being of George and how disappointed he'd be to find he had missed his opportunity to see if there was any chemistry between them. "They are coming over for me to meet him."

"Uncle Rory?" Both brother and sister chorused, "Who is it?" Percival continued on, his enthusiasm tangible even from Minerva's suite.

"I'm meeting him tomorrow evening, and no neither of you are invited. It'll just be three of us."

"He found someone…" Percival remarked, before continuing on. "Mother, surely you know who it is."

"He won't mind if we happen to stop over." Tessa interjected.

"No, and no."

"Mother, stop being obtuse, and let us meet him."

"There are reasons Rory does not wish to reveal who his lover is; so let it be."

"Mother…"

"Enough, Tessa." Minerva's voice holding a steely edge, "And don't think of crossing me on this Tessa; I'll have Bonnie remove you from the property if you step foot upon it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye Mother, and when did ya become so meddling?" Percival's tone having shifted upon asking the question.

"I'm not meddling, Perc; but there is no reason not to tell us."

"I'll see you both shortly, now…" Minerva's voice became softer, "Be safe."

"You aren't going to tell us, are you?" Tessa questioned again.

"No she isn't and frankly, I wouldn't either. You're being a prat this morning. Did you and Malcolm have another row? Or has your disposition somehow worsened in the morning?"

"It's only worsened because of the obscene hour that you called." Tessa quipped.

"See yourselves out." Minerva remarked, obviously leaving.

"Good-bye mother." There was a pause, "And Audrey nor I will be there this morning, she has an appointment at St. Mungos."

"Nothing serious?" Concern lacing her words.

"Just a check-up." He replied, "And, if you have time this evening, we're having some fresh crab."

"That does sound delectable, but I've plans already."

"No doubt, Hogwarts business." Tessa's remark unleashing her brother's ire.

"I'm seeing Warren this evening, not that it concerns either of you. Percival, please give my best to Audrey and I shall try and see you this week; Tessa," There was a pause and Hermione could only imagine a shifting occurring as the second stretched to two and then three…and still, nothing. "I have neither the inclination nor desire to fence with you over such trite, so discover the root of your petulance this morning and then we shall have words. And if it is regarding Hogwarts and my decision to remain; you needn't waste either of our time. Give my best to the children and Malcolm."

"They have asked if you will have time this holiday for a sleepover." Tessa called out.

"I shall make time." Minerva answered, her cadence becoming tender. "I shall have a list of possible dates to you by the morrow."

Hermione heard a rustling and whispers of what sounded like parting words before the banister creaked and the floo roared. Hermione poured herself another cup of coffee before edging back fully into her seat as she waited for her hostess to rejoin her. She didn't have to wait long, Minerva hesitating at the landing; a tired sigh eschewing from her lips and Hermione couldn't help the comment from stemming from her own. "They are worse than seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins."

A wane smile brushed across her visage, "Their personalities are like oil and water, but through circumstances have become exceedingly close."

"Does it ever get any easier?" Hermione twirled her cup in her hand in contemplation."

"You'd think so, but no." Minerva idly summoned her walking stick, fatigue already too much for her hip this morning. "As you will always be _mom._"

"I'd have thought after having children of their own, they'd understand."

Minerva's forced herself forward, "In a way they do, but as far as Percival and Tessa are concerned; I am Minerva McGonagall first, Hermione." A melancholy sweeping over her visage, "Their mother, second."

"I don't believe that for a moment." Hermione countered, "From what I've seen and know of you; how can they believe that?"

"I did not ask you to remain to speak of my children, Hermione." Gingerly, Minerva sat opposite, "As that would take the remainder of the month," She said lightheartedly, taking the sting from the redirection, "But to finish…telling you, of Warren."

"You are to see him this evening?"

Minerva eyed the younger woman carefully, "Yes. And no," She raised her hand halting the commentary, "I do not need nor wish for you to go with me. It will be a difficult conversation between us as it is without him having to concern himself with whom you are and if you can be trusted."

"Then you are going to tell him of what may happen?" She asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Minerva replied, "Along with options."

"Options?" Hermione's brain went into overdrive, "What options are there, except fighting back and blowing Aegis' cover or letting Warren die?"

"Those are two options, albeit non-preferred." Minerva quipped, "I was thinking of a third alternative, although it depends on some extraneous factors, it is still attainable."

"Third alternative." She whispered, frustratingly not seeing what the woman opposite was referring to.

"I have asked Helena to provide me with…" Minerva paused unsure of if she should share her intentions, but she needed to talk of it, to work through the idea, see where the holes were.

Sensing her uncertainty, Hermione spoke. "Minerva…" She waited a heartbeat until green eyes found her own, "What is Helena providing you with?" She gently questioned.

"Bodies."

Whatever she had been expecting, Hermione was assured, that singular word wasn't it. "As in dead peoples' bodies?"

Minerva plunged forward, _in for a knut…in for a galleon._ "Yes, to transform them into Warren and his family."

"Transform…as in, remain stable after death." _Brilliant, absolutely brilliant._ "They won't transfigure back into their prior state, and then you'll stage an accident." Her mind working out viable scenarios. "A fire. It'll help to hide time of death."

"Rather an explosion. His family wards do not stretch far past his house, and a fire he'd be able to evacuate his family."

_An explosion, _"What's his occupation or his wife's?"

"They are farmers."

Hermione chuckled, but at Minerva's solemn expression, she found herself sobering rather fast. "You are serious aren't you?"

"Quite." Minerva answered, not understanding Hermione's reaction.

"I just," She took a deep breath, "Never figured farming. I'm sorry, I assumed they were scholars." She fumbled, "As is most of your family."

"Their family owns a large plot of land and has grown wheat, barley, and mash for centuries."

Brown eyes suddenly flashed in understanding, "Is that why they remained in contact with you? They are part of the family business? As you buy their grain to make your whisky."

"No, that is not why they remained close. However, our respective business' have been silent partners for some time."

"Does he have a distillery near his home?" She asked, wisps of an idea taking form.

"Whether he admits it, there is a small one in his cellar." Minerva stated, suddenly realizing where Hermione was heading with the question. "And I believe it is large enough to achieve what you are suggesting. As he has several aging casks, along with grain alcohol he steeps for use in his farming equipment."

"He uses grain alcohol to farm with?" Hermione was stunned, "I didn't think he'd need to use equipment, I thought he'd be able to use magic."

"While adept, he operates a business and employs several persons to help him work the land. And as most are muggle, they use traditional farm equipment."

"Has he patented his engine? I don't believe anyone else is using alcohol to operate the farm equipment; but…I mean why not, he is growing his own fuel."

"He has a confundus charm placed on the property; people believe he is using petrol." A wry grin flashed across her face, "His competitors have been beside themselves trying to ascertain how he has been able to minimize overhead."

"Well that could constitute motive, especially if his business is still thriving as the muggle economy continues to soften. Now, viability –"

"At the conclusion of his Holiday party next Friday." Minerva continued on, "He holds one annually for his employees, their families and others."

Curious as to how Minerva handled her own business, she found herself asking. "Do you hold one for your employees as well?"

"Yes, Warren holds his the evening before the Ministry ball, and mine is in conjunction with the ball. It helps to minimize my time at both events."

"Why?" Hermione questioned, "You always seem to enjoy the Ministry galas and dances, along with the other social functions."

"I'm the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Hermione, I'm suppose to appear that I'm enjoying myself." She moved on, "As for next Friday, it could be plausible to wait until then; barring Johannes doesn't plan on killing him for another week."

"Will Aegis know?"

"Perhaps hours before, not much more."

Hermione surmised the dubious expression, "You don't think he'll wait until the following weekend."

Minerva sighed, "Anything past Tuesday, I fear is futile. Johannes is anything, but patient. It is not in his character."

"That's why you were going to speak with Warren tonight," She quickly realized, "What's your timetable?"

"Monday, barring I begin getting the bodies today."

"So you can begin transforming…" Hermione's brow furloughed, "Should you be doing that? Transforming bodies after everything with Harry two weeks ago?"

Minerva remained motionless not wanting to lie to Hermione nor tell her why it mattered little if she went ahead and transformed the bodies._ She was dying, anyway. At this point, what were a few days one way or the other if it meant saving Warren and his family's lives?_

"Minerva…?" Hermione felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach at Minerva's lack of response in conjunction with the events from two weeks ago. Hermione recalled her statement that she should not be practicing too much magic; how Filius had handled the Head of Hogwarts duties for several days; and even if she had forgotten all of the aforementioned, there remained the very visible very real streak of pearly white gleaming back at her. "You can't or at the very minimum, really shouldn't be conducting the spells, should you?" Her system flooding with unease, "What's really going on? Why are you possibly endangering yourself…or your magical core?"

Minerva's jaw clenched, emotions threatening to overwhelm her; "I'll be transforming the bodies slowly," She quietly answered, "So as to minimize any repercussions. I'll do one this evening; one tomorrow morning and subsequent evening and then Monday morning."

"Surely another Master can perform the spell." Hermione quickly sought for alternatives, "One of the Healers at St. Mungos who specializes in Transfigurations."

"There are only five wizards and witches, besides myself who have mastered Transformation."

"And I'm sure they would all be willing to assist you." Hermione interjected.

"No," Minerva answered, stunning the younger woman. "Nor would I be willing to have them assist; save for Kane and he is indefinitely detained in British Columbia's penal system."

It was surreal, really; to have a conversation with the woman sitting opposite of her. The tangents of facts so often hidden transposed upon a truth widely known. "I don't understand, why Kane and why not the others?"

"He is the only one I'd entrust with the Transformation; the others I can't…" Her voice caught, as she admitted something so personal. "Trust their work."

"Minerva…"

"No." Her trembling cadence effectively silencing Hermione. "Please," She leveled a tearful gaze upon brown eyes, "Hermione, I don't wish to hear platitudes or words containing false hope." Her jaw rippled from the obvious effort she was exerting over trying to continue speaking without completely losing control of her emotions. "He is family. And as for my own health, I am…" She swallowed the dreadful truth, "Taking precautions. But what I need is…" She forced the words out, "A friend who will…look at _this_ with a keen eye to help me…make the impossible happen, at least once more." A tear slipped down her left cheek, "Because, I don't think I have it in me to sit through another funeral; whether it be Warren or Aegis'."

"Of course I'll help." Hermione whispered, tears in her own eyes, conviction in her words. "And, we'll figure this out." She forced a smile, "Without any real funerals."

Minerva gently reached up, wiping the tear trail away as she nodded, "With you," She felt moderately better, "I have no doubt."

"Good." Hermione stated, drawing a small, albeit genuine smile from Minerva; before returning to what obviously needed to be discussed. "You have or will have suitable bodies to replace Warren and his family, there is ready access to a believable accident…what of wards? Will Aegis or another of Johannes' men not realize it's a false death when the wards remain?"

"They are blood wards." Minerva cleared her throat, hoping to steady her voice. "They would revert and realign with another member of his family, in this instance, his mother. But, we'll have to have him transfer the warding to her after the incident."

They continued on for another half an hour formulating a plan; Hermione trying to remain focused and not notice the depth of Minerva's own emotional concern by the prevalence of her contralto Scottish burr.

"And you'll ask him this evening?"

Minerva's reassurance doing little for either, as it was critical to their plan. "Yes. And I'll send word when I return this evening."

"If he says no…" Hermione began but a glint in Minerva's eyes stopped her sentence.

"One problem at a time." Minerva sighed, having realized the time. "And speaking of problems, we are late for this morning's meeting." She stood, followed instantly by Hermione.

"Late?" She frowned, "What time…?"

Minerva summoned her cloak, "Elgin." She turned to Hermione, "Ten past nine."

"I have to get my cloak and portkey…" Hermione took a step, but Minerva reached out, fingers barely catching her upper arm to halt her as Elgin appeared.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Wait Hermione." Minerva stated, withdrawing her hand and turning to Elgin. "Please bring a suitable cloak from Hermione's wardrobe."

There were times, like today, Elgin didn't understand his Mistress; but…with a snap he was gone. Understanding wasn't always essential.

Minerva shrugged on her cloak, "As you have already deduced, I have a second home."

Hermione momentarily felt as though she had taken Felix Felicis, "I, uh…yeah. The night you were exposed, Rory mentioned that he had checked the Ridge. But…"

Elgin reappeared with his hand extended out, cloak hanging. "Miss Hermione's."

"Thank you." She said taking the item without truly looking, returning her attention to Minerva who was wrapping a scarf about her neck before tucking the ends into her cloak. "You didn't seem inclined to talk about it or want anyone to know."

"Nor do I still." She pulled on a pair of gloves, "But the fact remains, you are aware that it exists."

"Yes." Hermione fastened her cloak, "I don't understand the point…"

"Succinctly, my children, Helena, the Order and perception in conjunction with time." She palmed her walking stick, and much to Hermione's surprise; Minerva's wand sailed into her hand from the bedroom before disappearing into her cloak. "Elgin, if you'd be so kind."

Hermione didn't have time to contemplate or attempt to understand, as she found herself outside the gates of Hogwarts, the cold air of winter cutting along her face and Minerva already stepping near. "I could have grabbed my portkey."

"It's time activated." Minerva replied, touching Hermione's arm. But paused, their eyes meeting, sincerity lacing both emerald eyes and her quiet lilt. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She whispered before the musical melody of Minerva's magic washed over her and the cold from before was nothing to utter chill now. Without thought, she brought her hands to her arms, hugging herself; wind and drifts of snow sweeping in front of…

She blinked.

She was standing in front of the napkin drawn rendering of a home. The house was just as the drawing…ostentatious yet quaint, large sprawling elms and oaks littering the expanse before the home, a brick walkway…other sundry of shrubs and bushes that were now barren from the winter cold. The house, though, appeared…warm, inviting, and as the wind howled again, steadfast. She could hear the rumble of the ocean, and found herself breathing deeply, the salt heavy in the air.

"Bonnie." Minerva's voice carrying away in the wind as she reached out, hand touching what seemed air; only to see a ripple wash before her eyes as a long and uncannily tall wrought iron fence with pike tips appeared before her.

As did Bonnie.

No words were exchanged, between the small elf and Minerva; but Hermione gratefully found herself inside a warm hallway and standing before a set of double doors. Doors she recognized. Doors she had stood in front of months before with Helena.

"You will need to return using a portkey; I fear…" Minerva unfastened her cloak with exceptional speed and adeptness, "I will be speaking with Helena for some time following the meeting. Please, ask Filius not to worry if I am late to the game this afternoon."

Hermione slipped out of her own cloak, eyes trailing behind said woman. And she noticed what she hadn't been able to see before; a gallery of portraits. She innately stepped back, eyes taking in over a dozen pictures…of her family. She felt a hand upon her arm.

"We need to go." Minerva's voice bringing her back to reality. She didn't have time to dally, and look at all the pictures or even to remain starring at the one that captured her attention.

Hermione slowly averted her eyes from the portrait or rather picture, realizing why it had momentarily captivated her. "You rarely laugh anymore." Hermione whispered.

Minerva's gaze flickered to the portrait knowing full well the one Hermione meant, and then back. "Laughter takes two, dear." Came the heartfelt reply before turning to the doors.

Hermione watched as Minerva paused for barely a perceptible second, and if she hadn't been watching, she'd never have known; but she was watching and did see…the woman's tired back straighten, jaw tighten, and could already see what everyone else would in a heartbeat – Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, First Order of Merlin, Transfiguration Master, Head of the Order of Phoenix…

The doors cracking open and Hermione stilled her own face as the rumble of voices drew to an eerie silence; eyes and heads moving to the noise.

"Good morning everyone," Minerva's gait was measured, as she followed her through the doors, "Sorry, Hogwarts business." She ended any questions before they began, taking a seat at the end of the table; Hermione drifting down a few chairs to an open one beside Dean. "I do, however, wish to keep it brief today." She swept her gaze across the room, pausing on the woman she had just entered with, "As I have a few personal items to take care of before the quidditch game today." A chorus of chuckles sprung up from the table, "But before we begin," She turned to Arthur, "I believe congratulations are in order." Her clap was immediately joined in by everyone in the room, and Hermione couldn't help but glance pass Arthur, worried about the woman beneath the venerable icon whose presence buoyed the room.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena felt Harold's hand still her arm, meaning clear. She needed to stop looking at her watch. She patted his hand with her own, trying to quell her anxiety, but at five past; even he glanced to his pocket watch.

They engaged in idle small talk with Tessa and also Filius, both trying to exude what neither felt. Calmness.

At ten past, Filius cleared his throat and apologized, stating that something must have come up at Hogwarts and he'd start the meeting. However, both Helena and Harold realized the statement for what it was; a cover, for he had no earthly idea where Minerva was. But, Helena inwardly smiled; he was a dutiful friend and Deputy.

However, he was saved from having to orchestrate the meeting without Minerva's intended agenda; as the double doors to Minerva's home split and unlike before, the Lady of the home stepped through. Helena edging forward in her chair as Hermione followed behind Minerva.

Her eyes instantly flashed from one to the other; and as Minerva confirmed Filius' lie; she felt a soft warm breath and a barely perceptible voice of her husband.

"I thought Hermione didn't know of the Ridge."

Helena leaned back, smiling as she kissed the edge of his cheek; Minerva sitting down. "She doesn't."

"Harkiss?" Harold risked one more question, knowing his wife would understand.

And…she did. Though, she wished she didn't; but she also knew Minerva. There were not many things that would make her late to the meeting and with Hermione in tow. "Indubitably." She replied before leaning back.

Husband and wife returned their respective gazes and attention to the matters at hand; two sets of blue eyes peering intently over the scene.

Helena easily noting the slight redness that Minerva's glamour charm didn't cover.

Harold the frequency Hermione went to glance towards the head of the table, but then made herself scan across the room.

The way their friend's smile was forced.

The concern lacing Hermione's eyes.

And the list continued on…Helena easily deducing that the weight of the last six months was beginning to take its toll on her dearest friend. But as her gaze landed upon the young witch now working at Hogwarts, and the concern brewing in brown depths she couldn't help but wonder how much the younger woman knew. For it was evident, perhaps not to any others, or maybe at least one other…she paused glancing to Rory as an edgy Harry finished up his report, and felt her gaze hold upon the Highlander. Not to see what she had intended to; whether or not Rory had noticed how important Hermione was becoming in Minerva's life; because from the spark in his own steely eyes, it was apparent his own attention had been lax and self indulgent. Not that she could blame the man; quite the contrary, she thought feeling happy for him. It had been a long time since she had seen _that _look.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva waited as Helena joined her; eyes momentarily fixing upon Hermione's visage as she watched her engage in a lively conversation with Angelina and George. The light laughter and gentle camaraderie…and Minerva idly wondered if Hermione and Angelina's relationship had deepened. Had they become lovers? Would she even know? Did it matter?

They were friends…at least, Hermione was to her. So, of course it mattered; but in truth…it only mattered that she was happy. She watched as Hermione's eyes lightened, the laughter stemming from her heart and with a final glance, she turned on her heel; Helena joining her.

"Are you sure you have time?" Helena inquired, worried about her friend's seemingly tight schedule.

"Hmmm…" Minerva turned her head to Helena. "Yes, please. I was hoping you'd have time for a spot of tea."

The doors parted as they stepped through, "Of course." She replied, "And it seems your hip is still not doing well."

"The cold has been dreadful on my joints this year." Minerva continued on, hearing the doors close behind her; missing the brown eyes flashing upwards to find hers. "I have had to take additional elixirs to stymie the pain."

"Minerva." Albus' singular word stopped both women, "I was hoping to speak with you for a moment."

Helena could feel the temperature in the hallway drop as Minerva turned to meet Albus' gaze. "I don't have time this morning."

"I am aware of your time shortage, but there are some things that we need to discuss regarding yesterday."

Helena didn't know if it was the tenor in her voice or the gooseflesh on her arms; but either way, it had gone from cold to downright frigid. "I'm aware of your views…"

"I wanted to say I was sorry, love." Albus uttered, hoping to quell some of the anger burning through him as well. "I should have trusted you."

_Ohh, dear heavens._ Helena thought, wishing she were somewhere, anywhere else.

"Thank you." Minerva began, but stopped as Albus continued on.

"But, I hope you realize that I my intent was merely to save you further pain."

"And how would not telling Warren make it easier?"

"Please, my love, I do not wish to fight. You were up half the night as it was," His cadence became soft, "I _know_ you are exhausted; please."

Helena breathed an internal sigh of relief as a gush of warmth could be felt across her skin, the temperature in the hall returning to normal.

"I am, and for the future; please don't make summary remarks, it does little for either of our tempers."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione watched as her daughter yawned a fourth time in almost as many minutes, "Why don't you go take a shower, and prepare for bed."

Rose nodded through a fifth yawn, "Alright." She set her pencils down before heading off to her bedroom; Hermione quickly making her way to her study. It was almost 9:30, and she knew Minerva had returned from her cousins over two hours ago.

"Godric," Hermione continued on without preamble, "Has the Headmistress returned to her rooms?"

His eyes swept past her, ensuring their solitude. "She is in the lower bowels performing the spell you spoke of earlier today."

Hermione felt odd for inquiring, but then again; today had been a rather peculiar day. "Would you please let me know when she returns to her rooms?"

"Actually," Godric eased forward, "She has been there for almost an hour."

"And how long does it typically take to cast that spell?"

"How long did it take her to become Malfoy?" He countered, answering her question with his own; and enabling her to know the information without him breaking his covenant to Minerva.

"Milksy." Hermione called out, as she summoned her outer robe.

"Yes, Miss Hermione's." She appeared, tiredly blinking up at her charge.

"Please, can you watch the children for thirty minutes?" Milksy's ears flattened, and Hermione sighed. "I am sorry, Milksy; I know you're tired. But, I promise, thirty minutes."

"Take as long as you'se need." Milksy answered, "I'se keeps them safes."

"I know." Hermione whispered, shoving her second foot into her boot. "Thank you."

"Hermione." Godric's voice stopping her with her hand on the handle. "Remember, she hasn't felt well and …it does take a fair amount of energy to cast the spell. She merely may just be taking her time."

Milksy's ears perked at once, "If you are referring to the Mistress," Both Godric and Hermione turned to her. "Elgin was just is called, she'se was returning to her rooms."

Hermione didn't have to ask, Godric was already gone and before she could comment to Milksy; returned.

"Elgin has indeed just brought Minerva to her rooms." Godric confirmed, "And upon arriving, I was asked to relay a message." He paused, ensuring that Hermione was listening. "Warren said yes."

Hermione outright smiled, "Thank God." She muttered, elated that Warren had opted to try their plan. "Did she say anything else?"

Godric's visage remained stoic, cadence indifferent as he casually replied, "That she'd see you tomorrow, she seemed rather tired and was heading to bed."

"The transformation spell…" Hermione muttered, "Hell, any spell this quickly after she almost destabilized her core…" She frowned at him, "Would you mind one more question this evening?"

"By all means." Godric grandly stated.

"Could you ask…Dumbledore who else has the skill necessary to conduct the transformation spells?"

Godric blinked and stared at the young witch. Had she no clue? "Surely you jest." He retorted, but at her blank expression he found himself expanding. "My apologies, Hermione. I only figured; that you knew of course."

"Knew what precisely?"

"Especially given your growing friendship with Minerva."

"Knew…?" Hermione prompted again.

"I don't have to ask Albus, or any witch or wizard; alive or dead, Hermione." Godric responded, "As I know. Every portrait in this castle knows; Hogwarts knows." For a moment, he seemed alive as he leaned forward, the way the fire glinted off his eyes; voice rumbled across the air. "The answer is you."

"Me?" Hermione questioned, not following Godric's archaic logic.

"You are the most powerful witch or wizard in decades to pass through these walls." Godric explained, "So when asking who has the skill necessary, you only need to look at yourself."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed the update, and the lengthy conversation/interaction between Hermione and Minerva. My sincerest wishes for each of you to have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year; and I'll see you all next year._


	60. Chapter 57 December 13th, 2009

_A/N: Grab a drink and get comfortable, the chapter below is a wee bit long._

**Chapter 57 ~ December 13****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

Hermione didn't have to wait, thankfully; or she may have lost her nerve. As, there was one person, even after all these years that still caused her to feel small and childlike. The wiry, elder woman, with paper thin rust colored frames – Irma Pince.

"Professor Granger." Surprise evident in her voice as she opened the door, a worldly gaze pinning the younger witch. "Is there a Prophet that is not in Hogwarts' collection or are you here for something with more sustenance?"

Much like the library, Hermione tread with care, knowing that Irma's loyalty lay with the fabled institution and it's Headmistress. However, in regards to obscure facts or details, there was no person on Hogwarts' staff whose knowledge was as vast. And Hermione was seeking a name; without having to scour the whole of every Transfiguration Journal. "I was hoping for a few moments of your time, Irma."

Irma stared at Hermione; Hermione unblinkingly met her gaze and held it. It was obvious, the quiet librarian was making a decision; and with a soft sigh and nod the door creaked and Hermione was permitted entry.

She hadn't known what to expect when traversing to her colleague's personal rooms. Truth of the matter, she hadn't known where they were and had to ask Elgin what portrait and upon which floor Irma's residence was.

She had suspected, it would be like the library; filled with books in almost every nook and cranny, containing large leather furniture with brass rivets, and an assortment of knick knacks lining what room remained. However, she couldn't have been more wrong.

The door opened into what appeared to be similar to Hermione's suite; a large den or office with a door beyond that undoubtedly led to the rest of her personal rooms. The room had a wide oak mantle with dozens of silver and brass frames; pictures of loved ones and friends, a small desk laden with parchment resting by the window, a tan chesterfield along with two matching chairs set close to the fire with a coffee table between which housed a bouquet of red roses and evergreen.

"Please, Hermione." She indicated a chair, "Would you like anything to drink?"

"No," Hermione answered, "I've just come from breakfast and as usual, ate too much; but thank you."

Irma sat opposite in the corner of her chesterfield, plunging ahead with the obvious; never having been one for small talk. "What can I help you with?"

Hermione had rehearsed the question dozens of times; and each time, it sounded particularly – bobbled. And always, her immediate thought reverted to how the curt librarian would respond; why didn't she simply ask Minerva. And…well, she'd be right. Why didn't she simply ask Minerva? Because, you know that Minerva won't tell you all that you need to know to help her transform the bloody bodies.

Her stomach constricted as she recalled Minerva's exhausted visage stepping through the Professor's entrance. Her color had been nothing short of ashen. The whole of the Professor's had noticed how poorly she had looked, and Minerva merely walked the length of the table as if the day was like any other, taking her seat; and she along with everyone else waited for Filius' obvious question ~ and the gentle reply.

_"I'm quite fine, just didn't sleep well last evening."_

As Pomona says – poppycock.

She probably slept the whole of last night after the transformation and…would probably sleep for most of the day following this morning's transformation – which Minerva had done prior to even her awakening at six.

Hermione leaned forward, "I was hoping you may know a person or where I may seek information regarding said person by the name of Kane;" Irma's brow rose imperceptibly and Hermione trudged on. "He is adept in Transfiguration. Unfortunately, I know very little else, but…"

"Transfiguration, you say?" Irma interjected.

Hermione swallowed, "Yes. Master level."

Irma narrowed her eyes, and Hermione braced herself; knowing what the woman was going to ask. "And you haven't asked Minerva?"

An outlandish notion crept into Hermione's consciousness. "No, I was hoping…" She sighed, "Actually, I was hoping you could help me. Minerva mentioned his name in passing regarding Transfiguration theory, and I had wanted to read his work to see if there would be a caveat I could use in class."

"And you didn't ask Minerva for his last name, because…" A wayward smile pulled at the corner of Irma's lips. "You might appear that you weren't as verse in a field she has spent a lifetime in?"

"Something like that." Hermione stated, trying to look chagrined.

"Transfiguration, theoretical research, mastery…" Irma paused as if in thought before uttering the answer. "His last name is Tsu." Irma interlaced her fingers, "You are a brilliant witch Hermione, and incredibly well read for a woman of your age. Next time, just ask her; she won't think any less of you. Matter of fact, you are the first Transfiguration teacher she hasn't commented upon since taking the Headship, save for positive ones."

Hermione felt a blush grace her cheeks, "Thank you."

Irma joined Hermione standing, "You are welcome and next time, please come and visit; merely to visit, Hermione."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"No, Tsu. T.S.U." Hermione spelled out.

"I'll make a few inquires tomorrow." Harry stated, shaking his head at Ginny and motioning for her to wait just a minute. "See what I can find, and I'll pull our database too."

"I need it today." Hermione rebuked, "It's important."

Harry felt his attention immediately pull back to the conversation at hand. "Then…" Ginny was shaking her head, mouthing that they had a party in a little less than four hours that they had to be ready for. "Later, alright? Ginny and I are still getting ready for our party this afternoon."

"Hi Gin." Hermione stated knowing from the tone of her best friend's voice that his wife was close by, "And sorry Harry, but later isn't good enough. I need it before the party."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Hermione – we're talking about a couple hours." Ginny snapped. "It's not like its life or death or anything."

Hermione fixed her gaze upon Harry's face, ignoring Ginny's comment. Her friend meant well, but she didn't know what they knew, nor the impact of her statement as Harry hadn't told Ginny about his conversation with Minerva or her. "Harry, it's regarding Warren."

"Warren?" Ginny questioned, "Who's that?"

Harry nodded, "I'll get it to you straight away, you going to be at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah." She watched as he started to move away, "And Harry…"

He paused, "Huh?"

"Thanks."

She was rewarded with boyish smile before his face vanished in the flames.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Then You bloody transform the bodies!" Minerva snapped.

Blue and green meeting in a haze of anger, "I would, but can't; and would rather not endure you doing it another two times!"

"As if I enjoy scorching my hands and arms!"

"The pain and pull upon our magic, Minerva is precarious at best. At this rate, you'll be dead before the start of spring!"

"Then you'll be able to rest easy, as will I, come summer." She rebuked causing his ire to flash at her insolence.

"This is no laughing matter…"

Minerva held up her pink hands and forearms, still tender from the spells she cast this morning. "Do you see me laughing, Albus? My arms hurt as a breeze blows across my skin and my hands; dear heavens, I cringe at the very notion of picking up a quill to write a letter. And Merlin knows that I have to force my hand to cast spells that were once as natural as breathing; because it hurts too damn much!"

"Then stop." Albus candidly replied.

"And if it was our son or daughter?" Emotions barely restrained, voice carrying with it the power of a thunderous storm on the verge of being released. "You'd stop at nothing, spare no one to ensure their safety and have."

"It isn't they."

"And your brother?"

The tone of the conversation becoming more, personal. "Minerva, I never asked…"

"No, Albus; I'll have none of it. He was family, and whether stated aloud or no, the sentiment was there."

"Warren isn't your brother, and he is willing to…"

"DON'T!" She yelled, "Say it!" Effectively cutting off his remark. "Or you'll be sleeping at the Ridge till I join you at the damn Crossing; Hogwarts and your confounded portrait be damned!"

"You are killing yourself!" He roared back.

"I don't care anymore!" Her shrill declaration causing his own commentary to falter and hers to continue on. "Or have you forgotten that I'll be dead either way! As I am, finally dying!" Tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, "And will finally be with you before the basis of us, and our bond are stripped bare; and nothing is left save for memories of what once was."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Arthur eyed his children; first Charlie. He was still a loner, and had a desire to skirt along the road of danger; it would be some time until his son settled down, if he did at all. His gaze remained fixed upon the young witch who clung to his arm, and with a swallow of firewhisky moved on. The woman would be gone within a month, she was too clingy.

Ginny…was doing well. She had a glow about her, perhaps that of motherhood or merely just of happiness. It made his heart lift to see how well she and Harry were doing for themselves. She played for the Harpies and Harry an Auror; yet they still had time for three children. It amazed him at their energy. And as her green eyes lifted upwards, and caught sight of Harry; he could swear they twinkled like those muggle Christmas lights.

Ron, on the other hand; he inadvertently raised his glass and took a hearty swallow. He had made a mess of his life and that of Hermione's. Of course, he'd never tell Molly; she was beside herself about him and his children, their grandchildren. Worried that Hermione would stop bringing them by, and he solemnly shook his head at her nonsense. Hermione, while no longer married into the family, was family.

Hermione was a marvelous woman. One, he was proud to call daughter, and at times he used to wonder what had made them fall in love as they were so diverse. But, all that said, it boiled down to Ron not putting forth the time and energy into his relationship with Hermione. And it broke his heart to watch something so miraculous fall apart, as Ron only half tried to keep it from breaking. In the end, he hadn't been surprised when she had moved out with the children; their arguments were no longer sheltered but public and their commonalities seemingly few and far between. He had hoped Ron would muster the fusion required to bring back their cracked relationship from the brink, but as time went on the only fusion he saw was the wedge being driven through what remained of their marriage. Now, Ron was wafting somewhere between denial and elation that his marriage had ended. And, the need for Arthur to refill his cup; lest he tell his son how foolish he'd been of late regarding Hermione; was profound.

Without a backwards glance, he smiled and made his way to the bar; spotting a half bottle of Red's Firewhisky.

"Hey dad." George's distinct voice cutting through his inward thoughts.

"George." He reached over, embracing his son. "Didn't see you come in."

An apprehensive smile crossed George's face, "Came via floo."

"How's business?" Arthur inquired as he reached for the firewhisky.

"Good," George handed his dad the bottle, and then grabbed a bottle of malt whisky, needing a lot more fortitude than he currently felt to get through the afternoon and evening. "It'll be better the middle of next week; the children will be off for break."

Arthur absently nodded, noting the worried countenance around his son's eyes. "Everything else going alright?"

"Yeah," George tossed his father a brilliant smile, "Great." He set his bottle down, "Just busy with work, the Order and all."

Concern laced his green eyes, "I am grateful for all that you did to help me get elected, George; but if it caused some undo…"

"No dad." George's face instantly sobered, his own worries momentarily forgotten. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Then what has it to do with, precisely?" Arthur asked.

George knocked his glass back, hand already reaching to pour a refill; "I'll tell ya dad, just…"

"George." Arthur laid his hand atop George's. Their eyes meeting, "What is it?"

For just one second, he thought of telling his father what had happened, and the love, he felt for another man. How he couldn't imagine living a life without Rory in it. How he didn't want to. But he couldn't, and he pushed the tears away. "Not today." He rasped out, before his fingers wrapped around the bottle and in one fluid motion; he was stepping from the bar and into the throng of the family.

Arthur's shoulders imperceptibly sank, of all his sons, George and his happiness worried him the most. He had lost his twin, his other half; and until recently he had begun to wonder if he'd ever see the twinkle in his son's eye again. He had been hopeful a few weeks ago…but, from the look he just received, it appeared his hope may have been in vain. And without thought, he followed his son's actions. Grasping the firewhisky bottle, and leaving his glass as he made his way out the back for some fresh air.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Wake up, you have a visitor." A voice boomed around the dark room, a soft light beginning to glow about his damning cell.

"I think I've more than paid my time, Minerva…" Kane's jaw clamped shut as a younger and more voluptuous woman stopped in front of his cell. Not that Minerva wasn't pleasing to his eye, but she always hid her beauty…while this one…wore robes that let one know of her womanly curves. His eyes racking over her visage, soft face, chestnut hair and kind brown eyes that held a hint of hardness; lovely didn't begin to describe her. "Who are you? What do you want?" His eyes flashed to the stairs and back, "And how did you get a pass to see me?"

Hermione met his roving green gaze, forcing her face to remain stoic as she took in the man before her. When they told her he lived only with the bare essentials; she had taken that to mean clothes and bed, but he had barely a scrap of cloth covering his groin and no other bedding, bed, faucet; only four walls and a toilet with a button to flush. He was just under six foot, lanky with stringy black hair and hundreds of tattoos covering his skin; most seemed Asian in design. "Mr. Tsu?" She'd start with the rudimentaries, and see if he really was the famed Transfiguration Master.

"Kane." He succinctly stated, "And you are?" He couldn't quite place the smell emanating from her robes…it held a sweet, earthly scent laced with a light almond from her shampoo.

"Hermione." She replied, "I have a half hour time and was hoping to have a candid conversation with you."

He crossed his arms, "Only a half hour. Not much time." He absently leaned against the bars, "And you haven't answered my questions."

"Before I do," Hermione took in a deep breath, unsure if she should continue or just leave. As it was obvious this man was not who she thought he was; a revered Transfiguration Master whose ability rivaled that of Minerva's and Dumbledore's and was one of the three recorded persons to apprentice with Minerva. "Are you Kane Tsu?"

A wry grin split his face, and Hermione could see a shadow of the man she had read about before. "Yes." He replied, but at seeing her hesitation he found himself, curious. It had been almost three years since his last visitor after all; but unlike the others - "You do not have the stench of the Ministry or even that of a reporter. Why are you here?"

"In the animagus registry, it states that you can morph into a fox terrier."

"Ahh, but I am being held with over two dozen protective wards to prevent transfiguration my dear as you well know."

"And what of your second one?" She whispered.

His eyes narrowed, a glint flashing before a chuckle resonated outward. "Preposterous. You _must _have had a flight of fancy before calling your father to permit him to grant you entry." His mouth moving, _'They are listening.'_

"No, they are not." Hermione replied, "I called in some favors. But in just over twenty-five minutes, they will be."

"Who are you?" He gripped the bars, eyes glinting in soft light.

"I need your help."

"I gathered," He replied, "But, I don't give a rat's ass. And to be frank, I don't give a hoot who you are, save for a diversion from my boredom." He went to turn away, but a hand gripped his shoulder.

"I came to help out Minerva." She stated and drew back her fingers as he glanced over his shoulder and at her hand.

His eyes darted back to hers; piercing hers. As his voice cut the air, "You don't know anyone named Minerva; however, nice try."

"Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Transfiguration Master and the woman you apprenticed under."

He leaned against the stone wall, "Wonderfully recited, it took you all of – ten minutes to discover that?"

"She almost destabilized her core two weeks ago saving my best friend, Harry Potter; from a transfiguration incident. Although, you know as well as I, she _rarely_ transfigures anything." She watched as his back became more erect, "Harry was struck with a spell that morphed through his protego charm and his body was trying to dually transfigure into that of an equine and anteater. She reversed it by conducting base ..."

"If they hear you…" He began yelling.

"You _have _to trust me!" Straining her voice, she overrode him. "Everyone is in suspended animation!"

"Only the Unspeakable division…"

"Harold Harrison who heads the division in Britain, and who you know is one of Minerva's closest friends is helping me."

_She knew the right names to drop; he'd play at least for a moment before she'd cave with inaccuracies of Minerva's life. _"Where is he?" Kane strode forward, "He'll tell me what is going on. He'll…"

"Not be able to help Minerva. Because you can't tell him about the spell, but you can tell me."

"I've never heard of you." He stepped back, "And after everything I've seen and been put through for the past twelve years; no." He started shaking his head, "You could be that damn Morsely in my head using Leglimency."

"She over stretched her magic," Hermione reached into her pocket pulling the photo that ran in the Prophet just over a week ago; "And now she is trying to transform four bodies to save her cousin and his family's lives. She can't and won't ask for help, save from you; and you aren't available. I don't know who you are, or how close you are to her family; but I do know that you are one of six Sixth degree Transfiguration Masters who can transform an object versus transfigure it. I came here to ask your help in learning how to transform an object, so I can help Minerva."

"Even if I could do what you are saying," He neared the bars, "It takes years to learn the subtleties. Not minutes. And you're what…a second, third level master?" He shook his head, "Impossible."

"No." Hermione stated, "Not impossible, just improbable."

Kane's eyes dropped to the picture of his mentor, his friend; and he glanced back to the woman opposite. "What level are you?"

"I'm not." She whispered.

"Forget it." He cast one final glance to Minerva's picture and then slid it back through the bars. "She'll find a way. She always does."

Hermione took the proffered item, "Not this time." A sadness ringing from her voice. "There's something different." She cast a glance to the picture, more to herself than to him. "I see it when she doesn't think anyone is looking."

Kane reached out, catching Hermione's wrist. "Different," His voice softened, "How?"

Her heart skipped a beat as she admitted the harrowing truth that she didn't know how to counter, "Almost like…she's resigned."

"To what?"

A deep tenderness laced brown eyes, "I don't know."

"And, you." He dropped his hand, "Who are you to her? Has the spinster of woman finally adopted a child? An heir to the famed McGonagall estate?"

"_You _know of her children," Hermione shook her head, "Why would you ask that."

"You're right, _I _do." He drew his fingers down the bars, "And I _know_ Minerva; not you." He pushed ahead, "So, then _you_ do not?"

Hermione bristled at his remark, voice terse as she answered. "She had four children, two still remain; they are married, and whether you know this or not; Tessa has two children and Percival is expecting. And, before you ask, she was married to Albus Dumbledore."

His eyes sparkled as he sought understanding and confirmation. "Why do you want to help her?"

"She's done so much for everyone else," Hermione easily replied.

"You didn't answer my question." He retorted, "Though from your response, I can see, you've been in her company recently." Kane felt a niggle in the far reaches of his brain, combined with the look in her eyes, and he whispered a question that deadened any and all noise from the room. "Are you her lover?"

The look of amazement and surprise flashing across her face answered his question with far more clarity than her words. As Hermione was left stumbling for some type of response, her mind having become momentarily paralyzed.

_Lover. It was such a simple word. And yet…not. However, one thing was certain, she – Hermione Jean Granger, was most definitely __**not **__Minerva's lover. She was a woman. Well, not that __**that**__ mattered; but, it could. Probably did to Minerva. After all she was married to Albus Dumbledore for decades, hell – she had been married to Ron and well…loving a woman, did matter. Didn't it. It was different. At least, she thought it to be. Or was that just her thoughts, and did they really matter? And love, was well…love. Wasn't it? At least, she believed so. But then, this wasn't about her or her beliefs; because it didn't make the slightest bit of difference regarding whether she'd be willing to love a woman. She felt…that with the right woman, she could. And Minerva…_her heart caught,_ while a wonderful woman, in more ways than she could recite…_"She's my friend." Hermione stated, feeling a margin of defensiveness overtake her._ How could he believe they were lovers? They were nothing of the sort._

He dropped his head, hair falling forward as a smile crossed his face. "Indeed." He whispered. Kane didn't know the whole of what was going on in Minerva's life; he did know one thing, a friend would never be privy to the notion of transformation, not even on her death bed would Minerva divulge that truth. Leaving one very real fact that he couldn't dispute, the woman before him was more than just a friend, no matter her proclamation. "Alright, I'll help you; but I need to know precisely what Minerva is seeking to transform."

His words momentary silenced Hermione's internal dialogue, "I don't see the relevance, as I'm sure the spell…"

"Is specific. Just as specific as each nuisance when casting transfiguration. And I cannot teach you the whole of transformation theory and the spell work in minutes. So, what is she trying to transform?"

"Bodies." And at his breath, she expanded her answer. "Human bodies; to that of her cousin's family."

"And the base matter?" He questioned.

"Other bodies."

He didn't bother to hide his disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"She stated Helena was getting her bodies."

Instantly Kane's fingers tighten upon the bars as his legs became unsteady.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, concerned by his reaction to her statement. "What did I say?"

"She…" He cleared his throat, "Is not well."

"What do you mean, not well?" The tenor in Hermione's voice rising a half octave.

"An abridged version is that; Minerva has the skill to take a blade of grass and transform it into the bodies. She can grow the mass, weight and alter the form on a base level. She is taking an object of similar mass, weight, and type to transform; and she would not do that unless direly needed. I don't have time to explain in greater depth, and for that I'm sorry." Sincerity lining his words, "As I am for the questions previously asked," He paused not recalling her name. "I do apologize; when we met I did not believe your name to be relevant; thinking you to be another Ministry official. What was your name again?"

"Hermione." She relayed.

"As in Granger?" He began to piece together stray thoughts, now understanding why perchance that the woman before him was told of transformation.

"Yes." She answered suspiciously, "Why does that matter?"

His eyes sparkled, "Because, you…" He waved his hand before bars and the steel groaned before shrinking and the grey falling way to green; the tips suddenly becoming flush in color. "Are to be my protégé." He handed her a bouquet of roses; the bars gone. "Of course, that is if something were to happen to Minerva."

Brown eyes glanced from the long stemmed red roses to Kane, to where the bars had been moments before and then back to Kane. "I don't understand." She pointed to the room, "If you could get out at any time…"

"Of course I can leave." He chuckled, "I am only here because Minerva asked that I abide by the judgment of the court for what I did. Unfortunately, the magistrate did not take kindly to my commentary nor my deed and sentenced me to twenty-one years. And while here, the Canadian Ministry has tried several ways to entice me to divulge how I broke the enchantments on their fiduciary system. As for you, Minerva holds you in high regard." He took a step closer, "Following Albus' death, she came to me with a short list of names that I should watch, and if they began to show an interest in Transfiguration; assist them. However," He could still remember the odd tenor Minerva's voice took when she brought up Hermione's name and made her subsequent request. "She asked that if something happened to her, that I would take you as my apprentice if you were to chose Transfiguration as your field of mastery. She believed you were and are capable of being the next great witch of the age."

_Minerva had said that about her? The next great witch…? What about Susan Bones or the young witch, Victoria Black? Surely they were as talented as she. And why would Minerva ask that of Kane? He did say she had asked following Albus' death, so perhaps before the Battle of Hogwarts; because it wasn't as if Minerva had been in danger following the battle – had she? _

"Come here." His whisper cutting across the scant space between them.

Hermione stilled her heart and her thoughts, taking a step forward.

"Have you ever been touched by leglimency?" He asked.

"No." Hermione murmured, not really sure of anything at the moment.

"At least," He breathed out, not knowing if this could and would work. "Tell me that you do have some working knowledge of Transfiguration and even if you don't; lie to me."

"I am currently teaching Transfiguration." She felt his hand upon her shoulder.

"Hogwarts." He murmured, realizing that was the scent he smelled; another layer of understanding peeling away. She was working with Minerva.

"Yes." She replied.

His eyes swept over hers, "Minerva's been working with you?"

"Not regarding transformation, but movement and dueling."

Envy laced black eyes, "You are quite lucky. She has only taught those trades to members of her family." His fingers lightly touched her temple. "Now, I'll show you the memory of the first time I succeeded, followed by a series of thoughts on how to transform a body. That is all there is time for." He pulled inward, feeling a low bubbling an awakening of something almost forgotten, "And Hermione."

Her eyes blinked, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry." He whispered, and she could feel her breath catch as the last of his words graced her ears. "As this is really going to hurt."

And it did.

She felt her breath leave her lungs, tears flood her eyes…her magic crackle and then she was standing in the middle of a silent room, Kane striding in…Minerva beside him.

"…you've done." Minerva's voice trailing in and Hermione could feel Kane's warmth toward her.

"I'll remember that _small_ detail," His voice was light, rich…and full of life. He looked to be only a few years younger than he was now; and Hermione wondered if he became a sixth level master shortly before being incarcerated.

"Kane," She drew to a stop, "Remember I cannot waiver despite my feelings."

"You needn't have to, Minerva." He pulled his wand from his sleeve, a cocky grin spreading across his visage. "Drinks will be on me this evening."

"Reginald will be less than happy, as will both Albus and Esmerele if you achieve external transformation this evening."

He shrugged, "Well, perhaps, but if I do; it'll give me a wonderful reason to stop by and see your lovely daughter."

"I doubt you'll have the energy this evening," Minerva's lilt musically wafting over the room, "But as always, you are welcome at our family dinner where she'll be at this coming Saturday evening."

"Then, pending my results; I graciously accept."

"You are, as always, incorrigible." Minerva raised her wand and with a twinkle in her eye; she snapped her hand in a beautiful arc, magic flowing outward a chair taking form from nothing. And Hermione, along with Kane, stood and watched as Minerva's wand hovered and twirled before snapping in a series of short flicks; the chair quickly morphing into an elegant grandfather clock. She lowered her wand, and at once, ticks and tocks could be heard; "The more complex the transformation, the greater the drain upon you magically."

"There is one aspect that still eludes me." He admitted.

Minerva nodded for him to continue, Hermione's eyes remaining upon Minerva. It was so rare for Hermione to see her as just her. There were no walls. Merely Minerva working with a wizard, teaching him incredibly complex magic; and a strange sense of camaraderie and understanding existing between the two of them. And despite it being a memory, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little…envious. She had worked with Minerva for long periods of time, had gone on numerous escapades with her; but they had not achieved the same level of comfort. Or at least, comfort on a personal level. It was obvious from their comments that he knew and was invited into her family.

"Why not bypass external and internal; and learn base transformations? It seems easier."

"Before you fly, Kane; you must first learn to stand and then run."

Or perhaps, it was her openness and willingness to answer his questions.

"And other than you and Reginald, how many level six masters are there?"

"Nine." She paused, "As last evening Helena notified me that Anthony Hargrove was killed in an attack." She nodded to the clock, "Now, leave the inner workings alone; and transform the skin."

"Minerva, that's the third Master in…"

"The clock." She reiterated, "Let Albus and I focus on our colleagues' deaths. You, need to concentrate on mastering the rudimentary skill."

Hermione watched his jaw ripple and then nod, "I'm sure you have your reasons."

"I do." She clipped, "Now…"

"The clock." He finished, turning his full attention to the ticking clock before him.

Hermione could feel the rush of emotion, and unlike the time she watched a memory from a pensive, she could feel his anxiousness, worry…and a tremendous swell of magic. The outer particles of the clock seemed to break apart before her eyes; the cell structure growing, holding; Kane's wrist slowly twirling and moving. It was as if she and Kane were building the clock, time having momentarily ceased as their focus became the clock; each piece painstakingly being placed where it needed to be. With a weary finality, the last piece transformed; a rush passed their ears, the cells reverting to their normal, miniscule conglomerate and the previous wooden grandfather clock was now made of marble.

Hermione could see Minerva's appraising look, hand and wand raised to verify the transformation; and the world jerked.

She could hear Minerva's voice…

_"When using base transformations; you have to thoroughly know the animal, which is an impracticality. You will never know the entire cell structure of an animal; that is why it is so rarely tried."_

Memory after memory interlaced.

_"No, to transform to a person takes even greater mastery."_

As though flashes from camera stills.

_"At least on a base level; to incorporate their DNA."_

Trial after trial, each time becoming closer; however, the face would appear as if it were Japanese anime or made of muggle play do.

_"I have done it on the rare occasion to save a person's life…always have a sample of organic tissue."_

Wand moved in an upstroke, elation coursing through her.

_"Use as a last resort…"_

The words ringing in her ears as her world went black.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold cursed in three different languages as he strode into the room. _So much for easy, _he thought eyes having already taken in the scene. With two flicks, he was assured that both Hermione and Kane were still alive; though in some respects it would have been better if they hadn't been. Granted, the paperwork would be worse if they had been and he'd have to tell Minerva what happened and that her protégé, well both of them, had been killed attempting to help her. Probably, better they hadn't; even though it would have made the next two minutes remarkably easier.

He knelt down, picking up the roses; and frowned. They were real. _Where in blazes did the bars go?_

He counted the number of holes where the bars should be and then the number of roses. "Merlin, I hate transfiguration." He muttered, and with a flick of his wand; Kane's body slid into his cell. "And you." He stood, "Should know better." He grumbled, before glancing to Hermione. Head shaking, "As should you."

Harold accio'd the roses, inspecting them for a heartbeat. "And how in the hell, did you transfigure the bars; there's no damn trace of magic on the roses." Shaking his head, he didn't have time to figure it out. Even though, he _wanted _to. Without further thought, he levitated the roses to where the bars had been and with a charm elongated and thickened them before altering their color to grey. Another series of flicks caused the fauna to become petrified, and from there he transfigured it to steel. While not perfect, it would work for the Ministry official who was returning.

Without pause, he turned and Hermione's body was floating, "Come on." He whispered, pulling her to his chest and carrying her. "We need to go." He took two steps up the entrance and cursed his luck.

The guard had returned.

_Couldn't anything go his way today?_

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Care to share?" Minerva asked, startling Arthur.

"Ohh," Arthur scrambled up, "Minerva." He cleared his throat needlessly, "I didn't, uh…how are you?"

Sensing his despondence, she opted to answer honestly. "Tired," She drew up beside him, "And yourself?"

Arthur opened his mouth to respond that he was fine, or perhaps a bit overwhelmed by his new job; but at her expression, he found his smile faltering and a margin of his own honesty coming to the forefront. "The same."

"You're worried Arthur," She said without preamble, "Now," She nodded to the bottle, "Is that all you have left?"

He glanced from her to the bottle, "I seem to have been out here for longer than I realized."

Minerva chuckled ruefully, "I have had that problem more than once." She patted his shoulder, "Though, it's been a while;" Her eyes twinkling, "And after the day I've had, I could certainly use a drink."

"I should join the others…" He went to move towards the door, but she interjected.

"As should I," She agreed, "But, I think this once; I'll forgo formality."

His eyes searched hers, "Minerva, Harry and the others are looking forward to seeing you, as you hardly see them."

She opened the back door to Harry's home, and wandlessly summoned another bottle. "They'll still be there in a bit."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione downed a second headache potion, as her children flew through the front door and into the cacophony of Harry's home. "Aunt Ginny! Uncle Harry!" They both screeched.

And Hermione took a deep breath before entering, her children having plowed through half of the Weasley family; "Hermione." Ginny was already embracing her. "So glad you could come."

"Me too." She returned her friend's hug.

"You okay?" She asked as they pulled apart. "You look a bit, piqued."

_She didn't know the half of it, _Hermione thought before yawning, "It's been a long day."

"Let me grab you a drink." Ginny said beginning to weave through members of the family who were stopping Hermione and giving her hugs.

"Coffee." Hermione yelled after her as George picked her up from behind.

"Hullo love." He set her down. "Up for joining us in some quidditch?"

Hermione turned around, smile plastered upon her face. "Hi, and no." She said shaking her head, "Since when have you seen me play quidditch?"

"Ron's playing." He glanced to her ex-husband, "Figured you might want to be the opposing teams beater tonight."

"That's what I have you for." She kissed his cheek, "Missed you."

"And I you." He gave her another hug, "Though you look a bit haggard, have the kids this weekend too?"

Harry handed Hermione the coffee she had requested, "Here."

"Thank you, Harry." She whispered as they hugged, "Yes, I did." She glanced from Harry to George, "But, I had a few things for a friend to take care of that took longer than I planned causing me to be up late last night."

"But you were able to sort it?" Harry asked, knowing that Hermione would understand his inference.

"I think so." She smiled, "I'll know this evening." _Her shoulders sank, at the notion of this evening and who Minerva was having over for and that he'd be bringing company. _"Speaking of," She tried to brighten her features, "George I was hoping you'd grab some coffee and dessert with the children and I after Harry's."

George felt his worst nightmare surface as Hermione continued on unabated.

"They haven't seen you in weeks and…" Hermione's voice trailed off, "You alright George?"

"I…" He fought the strange sense of panic from overtaking him, "Yeah, sorry; you were saying?"

"Dessert, me, the kids."

He felt his head move, "I can't, I've already got," The word seemed to drag itself from the utter recesses of his brain. "Plans."

Harry's face lit up, "With who? Anyone I know?"

Hermione grabbed Harry's shirt, "Probably with Angelina." She called over her shoulder as both she and Harry moved to the den. George casting her a thankful look as Bill came up beside him.

"Who do you reckon the other seeker will be?"

George threw back another drink, between Harry and Hermione's question and his own worries regarding this evening and how it would go with McG…of all people. Why her? "Ginny." He stated, opting to answer his brother's question verse answering the one that was truly bothering him. "Though, that means we'll need another chaser."

Bill gazed through the crowd, mentally ticking off who could fill the position. "Hermione said no."

George nodded, eternally thankful for even the momentary distraction. "As always."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I still can't believe that she's your daughter." Arthur leaned his head back on the rail. "Although, now that I know, it does make perfect sense. She is a marvelously skilled witch."

"She takes after her father," Minerva whispered into the late afternoon sky, "And of course, the Flammels. She spent a fair amount of time with Pernelle and Nicolas; and was their apprentice for two years."

"Two years." He muttered finishing the last of his bottle, not able to imagine having the opportunity to apprentice with someone like the Flammels. Or…in truth, having Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore as parents. "Do you mind if I ask, how you were able to keep your marriage," He shook his head, "Your life, the whole of it, from the wizarding world?"

"I was motivated when I was younger to keep my loved ones close. Speaking of children, earlier," She took a hearty sip of the stinging whisky. "Which of your children caused your look of concern?"

"I, uh, …"

"Relax, Arthur; I only ask, because I've seen that face before." She handed him the remainder of her bottle, "On me more times than I can count."

He graciously took the proffered bottle, "You know George fairly well."

Minerva braced herself, adrenaline suddenly negating part of the alcoholic effect. "Aye, a wee bit."

"After everything that happened," He paused voice catching, "With Fred; George was devastated." The sun glinted off the tears in his eyes, "And it's been years since I've seen him smile like he once did, he hasn't until the last few weeks."

Minerva couldn't stop the warmth from exploding in her chest at Arthur's words; as it had been years since she had seen Rory smile too. "Do you think he's found someone?"

"Yes." Arthur whispered, "I do."

"Then why the worry?" She gently laid her hand upon his knee.

"Because he's hiding it and its ripping him apart."

Minerva could hear someone approaching the back door, "Then tell him, that you'll love him no matter what."

"Minerva, what do you know…"

She stood as did he, "Just tell him Arthur, and trust me."

The door opened revealing the very man they were speaking of. "Dad, McG." He said surprise at seeing both his father and the Head of Hogwarts sitting on the back steps, two bottles of empty firewhisky lying at their feet. "I was…uh, looking for ya, dad. We were going to play quidditch, and we were hoping you'd be the keeper."

Arthur had turned back to Minerva, eyes raking over the enigmatic woman; "I do, Minerva." He stated, causing her to warmly smile at him.

"Did I interrupt something?" George suddenly drew back, mildly concerned at what in blazes they were talking about. _Had Rory told her that he was coming over this evening? Was she telling his father?_

"No," Minerva turned, lilt still light; "Merely Hogwart's business." Her eyes met George's, "Quidditch, you say?"

"Yeah," He nodded, "Everyone's coming out." He pointed to the open field beyond the house. "Harry and Ginny have charmed the area, and precisely at 4pm it becomes a pitch."

"I need to grab another cloak before I head to the pitch." Arthur motioned to the door, "Excuse me, George." He went to step past him, and over the now vanished bottles, pausing as he opened the door. "Thank you Minerva."

"Always a pleasure, Arthur." She said with a nod, and he stepped into Harry's house; leaving she and George alone for a moment. "And, no, George. I would never divulge your relationship." She watched him bristle, "Nor has Rory told me who he was bringing; I deduced that on my own. As he has been rather taken with you for months." She laid her hand atop his shoulder, "Welcome to the family, George." She leaned in pecking his cheek with a kiss.

He couldn't stop the tears from welling in his eyes, and he embraced her in a bear hug. "Thank you." He could feel a rumble from her chest, before her words brushed his ear.

She squeezed his shoulder as he let go, "Now, where would a good spot be to watch the famed Weasley family play a bit of quidditch?" She asked as Bill stepped out.

"You are brilliant George." Bill slapped him on the back, "How'd you get her to agree?"

George frowned, "Agree?"

Bill gave a curt nod to the Headmistress, "Always a pleasure, Professor; and I promise we'll take it easy on you."

At once both George and Minerva understood. George quickly interjected; Minerva watched the scene with her brow arched. "No, Bill. McG isn't playing; she was asking where a good spot would be to watch us play."

Arthur opened the door, fully in gear; Charlie beside him and Ginny behind them; the children flying around their waist and legs.

"Aunt McGonagall. Aunt Minerva. Aunt Merva!" The children chorused as they stopped on the steps between the adults, trying to hug and wave at their aunt.

Bill looked at his daughter, Janel, and then back to Minerva, a devious thought gaining traction. "Then in that case, we are looking for a chaser for today's game. Interested?"

"Wow, you play quidditch Aunt McGonagall?" Sirius' young voice holding a granule of hope with the question.

"Quidditch?" Hugo bobbed his head up and down, "Pleeze, Aunt Merva?"

Minerva was about to answer with a steadfast no, but her eyes landed upon Hugo…and his budding eyes of hope. She glanced upwards, and it was the same expression on everyone else's face…even Bill's. She turned to the doorway, Arthur smiling. "Do you perchance have a spare broom?"

A raucous cheer went up from the small gathering on the steps. "Absolutely." Charlie already jamming his way past his sister, and yelling through the house. "McGonagall agreed to play!"

Hermione and Harry stopped talking. "Did you hear that?" Harry asked, "McGonagall to play?"

"She's here?" Hermione frowned. "And play what?" Her face sobered, "You don't think they mean quidditch?"

Harry numbly nodded, "We are playing a game this afternoon."

"Harry…she almost froze to death a month ago, and…"

He shook his head, "Relax, 'Mione. I'm sure we misheard." He opened the door to his den, "Probably a chess match."

Ron came around the corner, "There you are Harry." He motioned to the back of his house, "I was looking for you. We are getting ready to start. Heya, Hermione."

"Start what, Ron?" Hermione questioned.

"Quidditch." His words muffled as he chomped down on a roll, "Kids are already up at the stands."

"Wait." She gripped his forearm, stopping Ron's movement. "You're playing quidditch?"

A dumbfounded look crossed his face, "Yeah."

"Shit." She dropped his forearm and pushed past him, grabbing her cloak as she swept down the hallway to the back door; not bothering to look back at her best friend and ex-husband. They wouldn't understand.

_What in Merlin's name is Minerva doing? _She thought as she slipped her cloak on, the cold winter air cutting through her robes. _She'll freeze. _The snow crunching under her feet, _She's already not sleeping and pushing herself to transform the bodies. Helena is going to…_ The mere thought of Helena caused Hermione to quicken her pace. _She is going to bloody well kill me. A slow and painful death…_ She swallowed hard, trying not to jog. _They'll never find the body. She has the skill and capability to make me disappear. _

_I've already seen her once today under less than savory conditions; and that was my own doing. If I bring her best friend to her in the same condition or worse…_at that, she began jogging. _Minerva…please tell me you had a reason. _She silently thought as a broom whipped above her to the field causing a whirlwind of snow to shift. A second broom paused beside her, Harry gazing at her.

"She's the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Hermione. And at one time, she used to play quidditch; she'll be fine."

"Harry, she's been pushing herself to hard and everything with Warren…"

"She may just want to relax."

Hermione bit back a retort and nodded. "Perhaps."

A boyish grin spread across his features, "And truth be told, I'm kinda excited. I've always wanted to see her play. With her animagus reflexes, she has to be wicked on a broom."

Hermione couldn't help but agree, as there was a small part of her…that did _want _to see Minerva play too. Harry was right; Minerva's reflexes were phenomenally fast. And despite herself, the prospect of the forthcoming quidditch game was becoming keenly intriguing. "Be safe and good luck." She wished her best friend, and with a nod; he was off.

When Hermione walked onto the pitch, she was surprised Minerva was sitting with the children. A mix of elation and sadness coursing through her; as she climbed the stairs. "I heard you were playing today." Hermione stated as she neared the cluster of spectators.

"Ahh, Hermione." Minerva turned to the younger witch, "Yes, I agreed to play for an hour, only." She could see the concern emanating from brown depths; one that she herself shared. It had been years since she had played quidditch with her family; and she was in anything but optimal health of late. However, an hour…she could easily do; even with her fatigue and hypersensitivity to coldness. She walked to Hermione, voice softening. "I'll be fine."

"Stop if you need to." Hermione gently responded. Noting that Minerva's robes seemed thicker than usual, fingers ensconced in leather gloves – hopefully charmed to remain warm, and a tartan hat securely fastened on her head and over her ears.

"I will." Minerva assured her, and with a few final words to the children; Minerva mounted the Cleansweep and with a deftness associated with years of experience and dexterity of her animagus, she was off.

Hermione remained motionless as Minerva made a few sweeping arcs and before heading to the center of the field where everyone else was already milling.

"It's been some time since they've played a full seven on seven." Hermione commented to Molly as she sat down, fourteen players and a referee. Fluer had agreed to be the referee; the red team had Harry as their seeker, Arthur as the keeper, George and Dean were the beaters, and Katie, Seamus and Minerva the chasers. Whereas the green team had Ginny as their seeker, Ron as their keeper, Charlie and Bill were the beaters and Angelina, Penelope and Percy the chasers.

"It has been decades since Minerva's played." Molly murmured, "How ever did Bill get her to agree?"

Hermione absently shook her head, "I don't know." She cast a glance to the cluster of children watching the scene with baited breath.

And Fluer put the quaffle in play; the snitch and bludger zooming past the stands; the game had begun.

Hermione hadn't known what she had expected. But, it was like…any other quidditch match. Ron and Arthur moving toward their respective goals; Ginny and Harry circling above the field; the quaffle being passed between the green team as George slammed the bludger towards Angelina.

Angelina ducked, the bludger whipping past her and her body was jerked to the side as Katie slammed into her. Angelina threw the quaffle to Percy who charged ahead and spun past Seamus shooting a goal at Arthur, whose fingers deflected the shot. Minerva grabbing the quaffle, her broom sliding around the turn as she moved forward. Hermione could see Charlie hesitate a moment before hammering the bludger, and Hermione found herself sitting unreasonably erect, fingers pinched together as she tried not to yell to Minerva to watch out. Minerva, however, dipped and spun on her broom flipping the quaffle easily to Katie who threw the ball toward the goal.

Ron batted the quaffle back into play and was surprised to see it heading back at the far left hoop with equal speed. Minerva's broom having hit it back to the goal, and a chorus of yells and cheers came from Rose, Hugo, Sirius, Albus, Lily, Nigel (Bill and Fluer's son), Janel and the rest of children alongside Molly, Hermione, Luna and the other adults. The red team had just scored and were up by ten.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched as Katie darted after Angelina and Seamus following closely to Penelope; Ginny and Harry diving after the snitch and despite enjoying herself, she had high hopes that one of them would catch the tiny little bugger as her fingers were beginning to go numb. Flexing her hand, she jolted forward as Katie intercepted the ball; her fingers slipping off the handle her palm striking and gripping the wood as she continued moving ahead. Angelina threw the quaffle to Seamus who quickly flipped it to Minerva, which she switched hands to catch the quaffle; willing her left hand to wrap around the handle.

She edged forward, hearing the whistle come from behind; and dove downward. She could see Harry and Ginny shooting sideways, and as she whirled the broom upwards at a breakneck speed she heard a resounding crash from behind. The bludger momentarily stopped. Minerva could feel her fingers slipping from the handle, and knew that she would not be able to maintain her present angle. Shifting her weight, she twirled and from the scent in the air knew Seamus to be close; throwing the quaffle backwards and into his hands.

She watched as Seamus flung the quaffle to Katie who hit it with her broom and scored.

"Great pass." Katie said as she came closer, "How'd you see him?"

"The reflection from my glasses." She stated as Angelina moved the ball towards Arthur.

"Wotcher!" George yelled at Katie and McG, the bludger careening at them. He watched in slow motion as it hit Katie's broom and nicked Minerva's. Wood splinters flying everywhere as Katie's broom upended and her hand grasped the falling object; Minerva's spinning wildly backwards.

Minerva stopped trying to control the wayward broom, knowing it was futile. She could see Katie falling, her own broom jerking; it was time she stop before she got seriously injured or someone else did. Green eyes latched on to her previous student and with a pop; she was gone.

And then felt a rush of air, a jumble of robes and with a second apparation; she and Katie were sprawled in front of the gates of Hogwarts.

"I do apologize, Katie." Minerva sat up, feeling her hip catch. "I do tend to come here without much effort or thought."

"No." Katie was already standing, "Thank you." She glanced around. "What you did was phenomenal. How did you even catch me?"

Minerva pulled her walking stick from the inner part of her robes, "I used to be an Auror in another life. If you'd be so kind and give my apologies upon your return, I believe I've had enough excitement for the day."

Katie ran forward, "Professor…Minerva, please. Come back. The game isn't over and we are winning. You're a marvelous player and then dinner…"

"Ginny caught the snitch as we were falling."

"How'd you…?"

"Enjoy the dinner, and do please extend my apologies. I had a wonderful day, and you Katie, have remained a great player. And I thank you for your kind words."

Katie stared at her previous head of house and knew it was fruitless to try to sway the elder witch. "I had a great time, Minerva." She leaned in giving her a hug, "Thank you."

Minerva patted Katie's back and with a nod, the young woman was gone with a small crack. Minerva gingerly took the handful of remaining steps and reached out, fingers barely grazing the surface. "Tily." She called out. The petite elf appeared and without a word, apparated them back to her rooms.

* * *

oxox

* * *

George stared at the massive iron wall, "I don't know if I can do this." His legs felt laden with lead.

Rory placed his hand on the gates, the latch springing open and the walkway bursting to life. "She's ma family George." Rory motioned for him to enter, "And I want an opportunity for ya ta know the woman as I do."

George gazed down the elegant walk and manicured lawns, the soft light casting an angelic glow upon the sparkling snow. "She isn't just anyone, Rory. She's Minerva McGonagall."

"Aye, love, she is." Rory agreed, "She is also just a woman who enjoys spendin' time with family and friends."

"I don't know her. And, Rory; I'm not comfortable with…you know talking about us. I'm sorry but, I'm not."

"Then don't say anything about it."

"But what if McG brings it up?"

Rory chuckled, nodding to the walkway. "Come, let us go. You'll feel better after the evening is over, as will I."

"Rory…"

The elder wizard paused, "She is my friend, George. She loves me as a brother, and I her as a sister. She willna do anything to ya. Ya can have a nip of her malt whisky, and nah say a word for all I care."

"There's something more, isn't there?" George asked recalling the game from this afternoon and how McG had paced herself. Granted, she had done marvelously, brilliantly so; but…there were times that he couldn't help but sense she held back, add in Rory's interspersed comments; and how he truly wanted him to meet her.

"Please, George; do nah ask." Rory stated, "And let's just enjoy the evenin' with her."

George mutely nodded, casting one more glance to Rory as they made their way to the large front doors. "It's like the Malfoy estate without the dreary."

"Wait until Christmas." Rory touched the brass knocker, "Dunno forget ta breath, George."

"It is a rather necessary function," Minerva's distinct lilt joining the conversation, the doors having vanished. "Rory." She stepped forward embracing him in a warm, hug. "George." She said stepping away from Rory, "Please do come in."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"No." Ron said, face matching his hair. "I blocked dozens of shots."

"Sorry, Ron." Arthur chimed in, "Your brothers are right; Minerva had your number today."

"Well, we still won." He retorted.

Harry almost felt bad for his best mate; almost. "Right you are," He agreed, "But only because my wife caught the snitch, because if the game would have gone on another hour; there would have been enough spread that you'd lost with or without the snitch."

Ron drew in a breath, but Charlie nudged him from behind. "Save it Ron. He's right."

"Well, she hasn't lost it boys." Molly said carrying a tray of food.

"Lost it, hell she's better than half the Harpies." Ginny accio'd a fruit tart.

"Wizard by the name of Philip Templeton used to go to Hogwarts with Minerva; mentioned that she had been courted to play professionally but due to personal reasons never did." Molly remembered the odd conversation with the emaciated man.

"Did he say why?" Ginny questioned.

"The war." Hermione answered drawing a look of curiosity. "She joined it six months after graduating and was deployed to France six months after that."

"Shame really," Bill joined in, "She would have made a hell of a chaser."

"Yes, well." Arthur cleared his throat, "I for one am quite happy with our esteemed Head of Hogwarts being where she is." He cast his gaze about the room, "No offense boys and ladies."

"Here Here." The room chorused raising their glasses in salute.

Hermione toasted and went to check on the children, hearing a strain of conversation as she did.

"Crikey, if she can move that well with ten pounds of cloak, how well do you think she'll do this summer…"

_This summer was a long way off, _Hermione thought pushing the door to the kitchen open to see James…Sirius she quickly corrected. As the young man did not like being called James or Jim; preferred going by his middle name.

"Hey, Aunt Hermione." He closed the ice box. "Great game today, huh?"

_It does seem to be the only thing anyone wants to talk about, _she inwardly mused. "It was rather exciting."

Face split into a grin, "Bloody awesome! I mean, really; Aunt McGonagll…" He paused head tilting up in thought, "Do you think she'd let us call her Aunt Minerva too?"

Hermione did know how to respond to the eager young man; because in truth she didn't know what had prompted Minerva to ask her own children to call her Aunt Minerva versus Aunt McGonagall. She didn't believe Minerva would mind, but the woman was rather private. "I, uh…think so." She answered, Sirius easily noting her hesitation.

"I'll ask first," He stated, before launching into a quick rendition on how awesome his Aunt was. The cutting moves, precision passes and how the bludger hadn't hit her once all game.

"She played quite well." Hermione agreed, however, of all the things that had impressed Hermione; it was how she had saved Katie. Granted, her heart had stopped as the bludger tore through Katie's broom and later, they could tell Minerva's had been nicked too. The way Katie plunged down and Minerva was jerked to the right. She along with every adult was pulling their wands out to minimize the bodily harm. A spell had been on her lips…and then Minerva was gone and had reappeared across the sky above Katie; their bodies only meters from the ground as a flurry of spells hurled forward; only to vanish again, this time with Katie.

"Yeah, but how she saved Katie." Admiration lacing his voice, "Was…"

"Brilliant." They stated as one.

"Yeah," Sirius continued on, "It was."

* * *

Oxxo

* * *

It had taken over an hour and two steeping glasses of malt whisky to get George to relax. And Minerva bore the brunt of it; as Rory shot her a look of dismay.

"Do not give me that look." Minerva countered, "It isn't as if the family has played of late."

"Fair point." Rory conceded, "Still, with your recent bout of exposure, you shouldn't have been playin' at all."

"Exposure?" George frowned, "Wait, what exposure?" The sheer volume of alcohol slowing his logical process. He couldn't recall a time when, "Ohh," He turned to McG, "The morning at Azkaban, you had been at St. Mungos the evening before. Don't tell me you were there being treated for exposure and then dealt with the Azkaban situation."

Minerva's fingers tightened along her glass, "I won't tell you that which you don't wish to know."

"Is she always like this?" George asked looking at Rory.

"Quite, although, most times; you'd never know." Rory replied.

"Hermione knew of your exposure," George turned back to McG, "Hence why she was worried. But, then; why'd ya play?"

"I do enjoy playing quidditch." Minerva remarked. "Rather a lot."

"So, this spring." George eased back, "I'll send you an invite for our quidditch game."

Rory felt his chest constrict as Minerva gallantly fought to maintain a placid expression; "As we'll be approaching our upper class exams, I will have to decline."

"Then, both of you will have to come to this summer's reunion and game." He chuckled, gaze shifting to Rory. "I have a feeling you would be a greater beater."

"Aye," Rory cleared his throat, "I hold my own."

"It's settled." George raised this glass, "To a wonderful game this summer."

Rory unsteadily lifted his own, grey eyes meeting emerald as she raised the last of her malt. "To this summer." She stated, and Rory forced his own reiteration out. "This summer."

* * *

xoox

* * *

"No, I'll call them when I leave." Hermione said. "Thank you, Molly."

"Are you sure they won't mind?" Molly asked once more, not wanting to infringe on Hermione's parents time.

"I'm positive." She reassured the Weasley matriarch.

"It's just…" She leaned in, "With Arthur spending more time at the Ministry, it's nice to have someone about."

"I'll ask if they'd mind watching the children next Saturday for Ron, and I'll pick them up after the Ministry Ball."

"I'm sure Ron…"

Hermione shook her head, too tired to circumvent the proverbial elephant in the room. "Please Molly, stop the façade." She whispered, "I love Ron, as do his children; but it has been years since his first thought has been to me or them. He will not mind if I take the children Saturday night, lest you say something; as he'd rather be free to enjoy Fresca or whomever has struck his fancy this week."

Molly bristled, but Arthur laid a hand on his wife's arm as he walked up behind; "He's been a fool, Hermione." Arthur smiled, "And we'll keep the children safe."

Hermione knew Arthur would soothe Molly's ire, and she was eternally grateful for his diplomacy. "Till Saturday."

"Be safe until then." He remarked, arm wrapping around Molly as she slipped hers about his waist.

"The same to both of you, and thank you." She gave them a hug.

"Our pleasure." Molly replied, giving in. Knowing that Arthur was right, but hating that her son had been and continued being a prat to Hermione.

"Rose, Hugo." She called out, and didn't have to wait as they barreled into her legs.

"Mom, mum." They said, tiredly peering up at her. "Time to go?"

"Instead of going to Nana's and Peepaw's; you're going to Mama Weasley and…" She didn't have to finish as they both shot past her and into Molly and Arthur's waiting arms. "Easy kids." She admonished, "And what happened to saying good-bye?"

Her children quickly pulled away from their grandparents, as she sunk to her knee and gave them both a hug; receiving slobbery kisses in the process. "Bye; mum, mom." They said in unison. "See yous next weekend?" Hugo asked hopefully.

"Molly and Arthur will drop you off at Nana and Peepaw's next Friday and I'll pick you up Saturday evening."

"What about dad?" Rose asked.

"He'll stop by and see you this week." Hermione easily dissuaded.

Rose nodded agreeing with her mom, "Alright. And since we is going to Hogwarts…"

"Are." Hermione corrected.

"Are going to Hogwarts, can we see Aunt Minerva too?"

Hermione should have known. Hogwarts equates to…their aunt. "I'll ask her this week."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rory and George continued on with the malt whisky; Minerva had switched over to coffee with a hint splashed in her cup and each one after, marginally less. She had work to do this evening, and conducting transformation under ideal circumstances was difficult let alone trying to do so while intoxicated and without the magical stores she once had.

Their conversation had flowed around Hogwarts, George's store, and Arthur's ascension to the Minister of Magic. Minerva enjoyed watching George's inhibitions slowly relax with the potent combination of alcohol and time. His gazes holding for scant moments longer; laughter coming easier, guarded permission of Rory's fleeting touch upon his knee which was nothing compared to the flaring gaze Rory would affix upon George or the growing desire lusting in grey eyes.

Serendipitously, Minerva cast a glance to the clock, it was just after nine. She would need to leave soon; and from Rory's increasing distraction with the George's motions, it was best to leave before too long.

She let the conversation continue on for several more minutes, finishing her coffee and the last nibble of strawberry tort Bonnie had spoiled her with.

"George, would you be so kind as taking these to the casual dining room across the hall?" Minerva asked, and George gripped the side of the chesterfield to steady himself as he stood.

"Of course." He wandlessly summoned the dishes not truly trusting his balance at the moment. With focused effort, he made his way across the room and cast a glance to Rory, who gave a casual shrug indicating he had no idea why Minerva had asked that of him.

Minerva gently cast a silencing spell as George stepped from the room, "I need to return to Hogwarts."

Rory's shoulders slackened, "It is barely nine."

"And I have something that must be taken care of this evening." She stood, fingers palming her walking stick as she forced her hip to straighten. "Though, we shall have to do this again."

"Minerva…" He stood before his thick brogue continued on, "Do not make flippant comments that we both know…"

She placed her hand upon his forearm, "Not flippant Rory." She squeezed, "I promise. We shall do this again."

He leaned in, arms wrapping about her slight frame; holding her to him for several heartbeats. "I love you." He whispered.

"And I you." She replied, pulling herself back. Tears in both their eyes, "Now," She nodded towards the hall, "Go and _entertain_ your lover."

A roguish glint passed by grey eyes, "He willna – "

She held up her hand, "The Manor is yours for the evening, love." She patted his arm as she strode to the fire, hand sinking into the chalky powder. "And next time," She glanced back over her right shoulder, "I'll pull out a bottle or two of silver malt."

"Just make sure you don't schedule anything that evening."

She smiled as she flipped the powder into the flame, "Oh, I don't know. I believe both you and George may be thankful if I did." She didn't need to see his face to know it had flushed red with embarrassment, "He is a lovely man Rory. Goodnight."

Rory didn't bother to respond, Minerva had already returned to Hogwarts. He stood there for another second, watching as the flames turned yellow; before spinning on his heel, devious thoughts quickly ensuing as he crossed the hall and saw George. From the angle, he couldn't discern what he was looking at; eyes fixated to the object on the table.

Stealthily, he made his way into the room, avoiding the fourth board; as it creaked as loudly as the aged iron gates until he was behind his lover. He cast a glance to the table, and felt a smile pull on his lips before brushing them across the nape of George's neck.

He was looking at a pair of photos; one of he and Minerva alone, the other of Derrick embracing the two of them. She must have left them out on purpose, his smile growing broader at the thought; he'd have to thank her…later.

Rory felt George shudder under his ghostly touch.

Much later.

"Rory, what do you think you're doing?" A slight tremble lacing his voice.

"Just sayin' hullo, luv." He murmured, as his fingers danced across George's back while his body prevented George's escape.

"Ah…" George tried to move away, however, he only succeeded in bringing Rory's heat closer. "That's a bit more than hello."

"It is." Rory crooned, "But, ya do na look as though ya mind it."

George's hands tightened along the edge of the table, becoming white knuckled as he tried to ignore Rory's lips across the back of his neck. The way emboldened fingers danced across his back and chest and waist; gently pulling his shirt from his trousers before skimming along his skin. Hips pushing into his and he couldn't help but moan aloud.

"Ohh…not here." George's fingers gripped the table tighter as Rory's hands slipped down the front of him. Rubbing. Stroking. "McG…"

"Is busy." Rory murmured, needing to feel more skin.

"She's in the…other room." George could feel his restraint wavering as Rory continued caressing him.

"Aye," Rory pulled George's hips back to his own, pressing his bulge into George's backside. "But, she'll nah interrupt us."

"Rory…" A flash of embarrassment burning across his skin at doing what Rory suggested, "How can you even think about doing this; here?"

"I've wanted ya…" Rory breathed heavily into George's ear, "All day."

"I can't." George tried to push back, but found Rory remaining steadfast. "Not here."

"Why…nah here?" Rory stilled George's movements with his hands. "We'll be…"

"I…ahh…" The words faltering from George's lips as his zipper gaze way and the stiffness in his pants was given room to grow…and all thought stopped as Rory's hand touched heated flesh. His body taking on a life of its own as he thrust into the welcome warmth and then innately drew back…

"Quick." Rory whispered along George's ear. "Just me - in you." He rocked his hips forward into George's and felt his heart soar and erection painfully stiffen as George moaned and pressed back.

"You…are so….hard." George murmured at the bulge pressing into his backside; his hips already rocking back and forth in the slow rhythm stroking him. Vaguely, he could feel his pants sliding down as fingers continued their gentle embrace while hot lips tugged on his ear before whispering.

Rory's hips moved against George's, "As are you."

Innately, he pushed into him but felt a measure of resistance, "Ahhhh. Rory. Please."

"I thought ya said nah here?" Rory murmured into his shoulder, having pulled his right hand back…mirroring his left one as the palms of both his hands now rested on George's hip bones, his fingers barely skimming hardened flesh.

If at all possible, George's knuckles became whiter. His body on fire as Rory leaned against him, fingers teasing his engorged flesh, and his hips were moving back and forth - desperate for contact. "Ro...ry…"

"Yes…love?" Rory bit his lip, trying to hold himself back; as George's taunt back continued to inadvertently stroke him.

"Ple…ase." George brokenly whispered, bending forward more.

Forgetting the shame. The location. Needing to assuage his thoughts from earlier; because how could something that felt this right, be wrong?

He didn't try to process the feeling; but relished in it.

The knowledge of what Rory was about to do; and he felt his breath hitch, his hips buck - anticipation careening through him as a soft spell fluttered across his heated flesh before he felt…

"Ohhh…" He pushed backwards, taking more…and more…of his lover into him. "Yes…ohhh…Rory…" His vision becoming blurred as he lost all ability to think, words heedlessly falling from his lips, "Yes…please take me." He rocked forward, before pushing backwards again.

Only to feel Rory's heated flesh against his own, as his back came into full contact with Rory's front.

"Ya are so…" Rory pulled upon George's hips, "Tight." He breathed into George's ear as he sank deeper into his warmth.

George moaned, body filled with an onslaught of emotion as his hips bucked; the motion and warmth spreading forward as Rory began to pump into him. His own erection tightening at the sensation…and he felt his world stop as Rory paused.

"Now…feel…me…" Rory's thick brogue laden with passion and desire, "As I feel ya." He whispered a spell and George couldn't control the guttural moan as it slipped unbidden from his lips. As a rush of feeling that he had never known could be experienced coursed through him. His hips thrusting upwards as they seemed to plow into something; a heady warmth encompassing him.

"Ah…ohhh," He lost control and all desire to have it as he thrust and met and thrust again; as moans and cries slipped heedlessly past his lips. He could feel his body quake with first one and half way through a second orgasm; only to feel hips jerking against his own in a need that seemed to encompass him before tiny rivulets of pleasure began curling his toes, his legs, and he pushed once more - before he felt, bliss.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva gritted her teeth as she felt the gargoyle activate, again. She could only imagine who it would be this time?

Hagrid inquiring about his petition to utilize the eastern grounds for Welsh Dragon breeding? Or perhaps Aurora's requisition to replace the optics in the telescopes – which merely highlighted the need for her to notice the optics hadn't been replaced in close to two decades; merely the complexity of Filius' charms and her transfiguration on the confounded glass.

She plastered a non-reactive, stone face and prayed of all the people who'd be greeting her momentarily; that it wasn't Horace. She loved him dearly, but the last thing she had the energy for was consoling him.

Not tonight.

And definitely not now.

She had already spoken with Filius regarding their guests in the North Wing – and the noise that was permeating down the third floor western corridor. Also, the shortages on their food supply; and that they had already exhausted Hogwarts December budget. Then Marx and the statue enabling entry into Slytherin's dormitory was not permitting entry, he had been able to open it enabling the last of his charges to enter for the evening – but prior to the morning, it would either have to be replaced or repaired.

She felt her back tense as the door opened, only to feel a measure of relief at seeing the familiar and welcome outline of her Transfiguration Professor. And while, not expected nor truly wanted; she was quite glad to see the younger woman.

"Hermione." Her clear voice ringing between them, immediately noting the fatigue and stress lacing normally calm brown eyes. _Perhaps, I was wrong for feeling relieved. _"Has something happened?"

Hermione didn't wait; her nerves were on edge as it was. She had thought upon returning this evening, she'd be able to practice the transformation. But…she couldn't have been more wrong. As the spell she learned was designed for transforming bodies into that of other bodies; hence she had failed, miserably. After the fourth time, she stopped any further attempts; afraid of what would happen if she continued and failed. Her brazenness was already on tenuous footing before she had begun practicing, no need to sink her self-confidence lower.

Especially, as she had to convince Minerva to let her _try_ the spell on one of the bodies.

"I was hoping to speak with you before you transformed a body this evening." Hermione plunged ahead, "As I'd like an opportunity to conduct the spell."

Rowena willed for Godric and Salazar's presence as she and Helga stared down at Granger, slack jawed along with the other portraits. Almost instantly, Rowena felt first one and then the second appear beside her; their gazes glancing from her to the Transfiguration professor and then the Headmistress.

Minerva felt herself frown at the absurdity of what she had believed Hermione had spoken; "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you infer that you wished to cast the transformation spell."

Hermione's back straightened marginally, her breath catching but she forced the necessary words from her throat. "Yes, I can."

_She is beginning to believe in herself, again. _Godric thought squeezing Rowena's hand; his heart swelling at the bravery being exhibited by the young woman.

Minerva stared, unabashedly. Hermione had spoken with such a mixture of self assuredness and faith that it was difficult for Minerva to believe otherwise. Except, she _knew_ that it would be impossible. Hermione was not even a level one Master; let alone progressed to that of understanding transformation and the spells and training required. It took years, decades truthfully to master the discipline.

And even though, it was impossible for Hermione to know how to transform the bodies and conduct the spell without killing herself; Minerva's heart yielded at the extremely kind gesture. "Hermione, while…your innate ability is beyond comprehension, at this juncture you do not possess the required knowledge to perform the spell." Her brogue inadvertently lacing her words. "However, know that I do sincerely appreciate the offer."

Hermione had known that it would be difficult to sway Minerva, however, from the set of her jaw and the ease with which she dismissed her; difficult seemed like a pleasant dream verses the onerous task now facing her. There was no way to inform Minerva what she had learned without breaking Kane's trust in not only her; but also Minerva's in him. However, her choices were – thin. "I would not ask to help, if I did not believe I could."

Minerva inwardly sighed, lamenting the fact that she had to illustrate exactly how inexperienced Hermione was; despite her vast knowledge. "Hermione, there are only five other persons and…"

"I spoke with one of them this afternoon," Hermione interjected, holding up her own hand to forestall the obvious question. "I am tired, my thoughts are jumbled and truth be told; I have no idea at all of the inner workings of how to conduct transformation, but I do _know_ the spell you need to cast."

Minerva didn't need the name of who Hermione had spoken to, "How is Kane?"

Hermione wasn't surprised Minerva had deduced who she had spoken to, merely her lack of reaction. "Well, albeit a very unique and extremely talented wizard he seems rather bored at his current residency."

"And he taught you the spell?" Disbelief ringing from her voice.

"Yes." Hermione dreading Minerva's response.

There was no feasible way for Hermione to have learned it in a solitary day, it was illogical. Unbelievable.

Hermione took advantage of her continued silence, "If you trust me, Minerva; please let me try."

Minerva could hear her own heart skip a beat at the whispered plea, partially countering her rational mind; but only partially. As she did trust Hermione. Far more than she should. But, she couldn't…despite wanting to, trust Hermione with this. It was Warren's life, and if she did not transform the body accurately – Minerva did not know if she had the capacity to correct it.

Brown eyes stared into tumultuous emerald ones; Hermione barring witness to Minerva's internal war. One she knew she was losing to her more rational side by the way the hard glint began lining the edge of crystalline eyes. And she found herself not willing to accept it, moving forward; fingers curling around Minerva's forearm. After all she had gone through today to assist her. From going to Canada to enabling her mind to be momentarily merged with Kane's creating the colossal headache thrumming behind her left eye; she would not yield so easily. "Trust me."

"I do trust you Hermione," The quiet words spilling from her heart, "Implicitly. But, it isn't about trust."

"I will not disappoint you, Minerva." Hermione whispered across the scant space now separating them.

Minerva wanted to believe. Truly. To trust another as an equal. Be able to share the arduous burden weighing upon her, crushing her spirit. However, she didn't have the strength necessary to revert the spell if Hermione failed.

"Please." Hermione breathed out once more at seeing emerald eyes waver.

"If you fail…"

"I won't." Conviction lacing her quietly uttered words.

"I haven't the strength if you do." Minerva admitted.

"Then help me, ensure that I don't." Hermione countered.

Green measured brown, the air growing thick with tension as Minerva contemplated Hermione's plea; her irrefutable logic versus the emotional desire to believe.

The gentle timber of Albus' voice cutting across the office. "If there is anyone other than you or I; it would be her, Minerva." Minerva's gaze slid over to that of her husband, the two sharing a long look.

"Alright." Minerva finally conceded, turning back to Hermione. "With assistance."

Elated and unthinking, Hermione pulled the elder woman into an embrace; "Thank you."

With a measure of awkwardness, Minerva returned the hug; "Don't thank me." Minerva stepped back. "As it's exceedingly difficult and dangerous."

A sparkling light shone from the depths of Hermione's eyes, "And you performing the spell so recently after rupturing your magical core isn't?"

"Come." Minerva motioned to her back stairs, "Before I change my mind."

Hermione immediately fell in step beside her, "I am unclear regarding how to transform the shape into one I've never seen before."

"I'll explain momentarily." Minerva's fingers gripped the banister, pausing to look at the gallery of portraits. "If anyone else inquires, I am on patrol."

Hermione watched the group give a series of nods. "I'll have to keep that in mind." She whispered, causing Minerva's gaze to snap to her.

"Please do." She clipped before beginning to ascend the stairs.

"I thought the bodies were in the dungeons." Hermione stated following behind her.

Minerva's usual emotionless cadence ringing between them. "I had Elgin move them upstairs this morning before transforming the second body."

Hermione quelled her sudden flurry of nerves as they rounded the staircase and when into the small study, where Minerva opened the ancillary door before carefully climbing another set of stairs; and stepping into a large expanse with ice blue walls and a temperature mirroring outside. Minerva flicked her wand and at once a coffin appeared, and then vanished; leaving a pale body of a young slender man. Another flick and a gush of warmth passed over them, "Not being able to grasp your wand from freezing bodes ill for spell casting."

"That it does." Hermione steeled her anxiety, fingers clutching at her wand. She had thought that perhaps they would talk about the process, even answer her questions regarding transformation. _Apparently not,_ she thought.

Minerva noticed Hermione's unease; and knew it to be in part with her own emotional detachment. And she forcibly let her guard down, if only a little. "I am sorry, Hermione if I seem _insensitive_; but I too am tired. And have need to finish this before I cannot."

Hermione nodded, "So, what…" She cast a glance to the corpse and then to Minerva. "Do I do? I know the spell, but regarding the face and…"

Understanding flashed in green eyes, "He showed you the spell through leglimency."

"Yes." Hermione reaffirmed. "Is that a problem?"

"Marginally." Minerva glanced to the body and then back to Hermione; and despite the distance separating them, Hermione could see Minerva mentally calculating who knew what variables.

"Minerva…"

She held up her hand, mind extrapolating theory with known transformation fact. "He asked what the base matter was?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes."

"Showing you the process."

"Yes."

"Not the theory."

"No," Hermione elaborated, "He availed his first successful transformation."

Minerva recalled the day with ease. "The external skin of the grandfather clock."

"Before showing me the spell I asked to see."

"And he cast the leglimency spell and showed you?"

"Yes to both questions."

Minerva felt her curiosity burn with _wanting _to know how she had gotten Kane to consent to telling her. But, it was not relevant. She was sure that Hermione had her reasons for seeking the information, undoubtedly relating to her distorted belief about the instability of Minerva's magical core. One, that while it held a merit a truth, she was not going to elaborate on startling truth regarding the degradation of her magical stores. And she was sure that Hermione would have shared her concern with Kane; which led her to her current predicament.

Hermione _knew_ how to cast the spell. She was sure of it. If Kane had shown her using leglimency, then it would be akin to her suddenly knowing how to morph skin to bone. She would know the spell, just not the foundation or the inner-workings.

"Perhaps there is a way to combine the transformation." Minerva finally stated, before elaborating further. "You can adjust the matter, while I the DNA."

"Is there no way I can do both?" Hermione inquired, shoulders marginally becoming downtrodden; she had done so much to barely be helpful.

"In a manner, you are." Minerva carefully answered while reaching into her pocket, and withdrawing a photo. "This is who we'll be transforming that body into this evening."

Hermione took the picture, feeling her heart rate increase at seeing the smiling face of the young boy. "Warren's son?"

"Elliot." Minerva answered. "He turns eleven next month. Take a moment and memorize his face."

Hermione studded his face, noting the high cheekbones and strong jaw line. Obviously, they were traits of the McGonagall line. "I can see the family resemblance." She said lifting her eyes to see Minerva's own high cheekbones and well defined jaw. Unlike the young boys, hers held a womanly elegance but definite strength.

"And a lock of his hair." She held out a small banded tuft of black hair.

"What do I need that for?"

"You'll see." Minerva said, "Now; if you are ready, Hermione."

Hermione glanced to the photo once more, taking a series of deep breaths to calm her nerves; and then turned to Minerva, eyes holding innumerable questions.

Minerva could see the doubt, the questions, the anxiety, and concern. "I trust you, Hermione." She nodded, "Now, relax and use the knowledge Kane gave you."

Hermione felt herself nodding, eyes taking in the confidence Minerva's held. _Confidence in you, _a whispered voice trailed across her consciousness. And whether emboldened by that fluttering thought or of her trust spoken of only moments before. She turned to the body, spell already on her lips; wand moving in the flowing sweeping arcs and a tremendous flow of magic was suddenly coursing through her. She felt compelled to twist and flick her wand; and it was peculiar really. To cast a spell without knowingly casting the spell.

She…could see the body beginning taking shape; and the blond hair come forward before a sea of stars exploded behind her and around her. The blond hair melting away into black, her own magic resonating in a beautiful melody as another's – _Minerva's _– joined hers. It was subtle, barely there, and yet…she could see and feel it. While she morphed the body into the physical shape and form, Minerva was somehow altering the very cell structure.

She didn't know how she knew, only that she did. And now…was not the time to delve deeper. Her focus remaining wholly upon the transformation. It was as if she were putting a puzzle together, pieces falling into place – one by one, until it went faster and faster as the framework of the puzzle could be seen; and then she could barely keep up. Until there seemed to be only one piece that remained, and it crawled by – morphing, twisting and finally transforming…a rush of sound whizzing by her ears, a flash of light, and she collapsed to her knees.

Exhausted.

"Uh." She breathed out heavily; sweat dripping off her brow and onto the floor. She lifted her head and pushed her weight off her arms, leaning back as she gasped for another breath. Her eyes scanned the room, and fought from scrambling forward as Minerva gingerly flexed burnt fingers of her left hand. "Minerva." She rasped.

"I'm fine." Minerva said, flexing blackened fingers. "As I said, tired."

"I thought I was helping." She winced as she stood. "I'm sorry."

Minerva cast a glance from her fingers and then back to Hermione, "You did." She assured the younger woman, not elaborating on how varied her state would be in if Hermione hadn't helped. She'd need Elgin to take her back downstairs, as her arms and legs would have been as charcoaled as her hands. "Very much."

"Obviously not." Hermione's eyes riveted upon Minerva's blackened flesh. "Your hands…"

"Are not as bad as this morning." Minerva interjected, "You did quite well." She took a step towards the body on the table.

"Not as bad as this morning?" Hermione didn't move towards the body, rather Minerva. "How bad were they?" She paused beside her, tentatively reaching out to grasp her hand.

Minerva realized what Hermione was doing and took a step back, "Worse." Her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. "But they'll heal."

Hermione glanced from her hands to tear filled eyes, "They're as burnt as the night at the gates, how could they've been worse?"

Physically and mentally exhausted, she blinked back the tears that wanted to spill onto her lashes as she began to feel the onset of Hogwarts' magic seeking to restore her. "It does not stop at my fingers." Her brogue thick, jaw flinching as raw honesty spilled her lips. "This evening, it did."

Hermione swallowed down the bile at the image her words had conjured, a thought she had never imagined and one she wished she never had. "When you extend your magic, how often do the burns stretch onto your forearms?"

"On occasion." Minerva answered, "Now, leave it be."

"Minerva…"

Emerald eyes bore into brown ones; tears falling off high cheekbones, voice cracking. "I did not tell you so as to be lectured or pitied."

"I swore I'd never pity you, but know that I am deeply concerned for your welfare." Hermione countered, the tenor in her voice softening. "Do not mistake one for the other."

"My welfare is not your concern." Minerva bristled.

"Nor is mine yours, and yet you make it your concern." Hermione rebuked, causing a flash of red to ignite in the depths of her emerald pools.

Minerva's retort died on her lips as she saw Hermione wince; her own anger stymied two fold – Hermione's pain and the persistently growing cricket sound of Hogwarts magic in her ears. "Elgin." She called out, startling Hermione by the sudden redirection.

At once he appeared, "Mistress."

Minerva inwardly cringed, but flicked her wrist; the coffin instantly appearing around the body – losing another layer of dexterity in her fingers. "Place this body with the others."

"Would you like me to take you to your rooms first?" He questioned, eyes pleading with hers for her to consent.

"And Hermione to hers."

"Minerva…" "Mistress…"

"I shall be asleep within moments Hermione." The crickets were beginning to dampen the noise around her, as she willed the thrum of Hogwarts' magic to remain at bay for a few minutes longer. "As Hogwarts will heal me and the strain it puts upon my body necessitates that I sleep. Regarding the rest, let it be. You conducted a marvelous transformation; and are in need of chocolate and sleep. I will see you in the morning."

"Minerva…" Hermione stared at her for several long moments, though no further words came to her lips; what was she to say?

"Take a headache draught too." Minerva gently stated.

"I will." She answered automatically, before asking. "Time tomorrow?"

"Seven." Minerva reached out, beginning to lose track of her surroundings; "Elgin, my rooms please."

Elgin lifted his hand up to snap his fingers, but stopped at Hermione's words.

"Never pity."

Then Minerva's hands began glowing and Elgin needed no additional prompting; Minerva was gone in a brilliant flash and Hermione found herself standing in her rooms beside her bed.

Alone.

_Like Minerva_, she thought blinking a few times. The shock of the day finally catching up with her; her adrenaline ceasing as tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks. She was exhausted; physically, mentally, and emotionally. And she couldn't help asking herself, _how in the world did Minerva do this day in and out without anyone to lean on?_

_ And how was she to too?_

"God, grant me the strength…" She whispered before falling face first onto her bed. Unmoving and dead asleep.

Only minutes after taking Hermione to her room, Elgin appeared beside her bed; shoulders immediately drooping at the sight. She was as tired as the Mistress. A gentle sigh could be heard eschewing from his lips before he snapped his fingers; and conducted a series of small spells – taking Hermione's boots off, her outer robes, adjusting Hermione's body so that she was actually on the bed, and placing her under the covers. Another snap and an uncorked headache draught appeared in his hand, "Miss Hermione's."

She didn't move.

"Hermione's."

A soft snore greeted his ears, eliciting a second sigh from his lips.

"You'se," He poured a gentle bit on her lips causing bleary eyes to blink open as she wiped the liquid away, "Need to drink this."

"E…lgin?"

"Drink." He held her head up and poured the liquid down her throat, her eyes already fluttering close. He laid her head back down before carefully wiping her face. "Now'se you rest." He murmured to her already sleeping form, "I'se cannots have you worrying the Mistress too."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: Hope you've each had a relaxing and safe holiday season. The next several chapters won't be near as long – as we'll see aspects of the day, not the whole of it. Though, I hope you enjoyed this colossally long day and will leave you with one parting query ~_

_If a butterfly in the Amazon affects the weather patterns halfway around the globe by the number of times it beats its wings; how much of an effect do you believe Hermione's growing independence and proactiveness will make in the coming months? _


	61. Chapter 58 December 14th, 2009

**Chapter 58 ~ December 14****th****, 2009 (Monday)**

Tired didn't begin to describe how Hermione felt this morning. She felt as drained as she had the morning following the Battle of Hogwarts, only – worse. She numbly pushed her foot into her boot, not remembering having taken them off or getting partially undressed last evening before slipping under the covers.

"Milksy." It even hurt to talk, she mused. Not a good way to start off the week.

"Hermione's." She appeared a few meters from the foot of the bed. "Is there somethings you require?"

"Are you permitted to access Hogwarts' stores for a pepper up potion?" She laced her second boot.

"Is that's all? Elgin recommended a headache potion too."

"I have another…" She glanced up, "Elgin?" She questioned not understanding why the elf had recommended a headache potion of all things. _How odd?_ Especially considering she had already taken one this morning. "Never mind." She quickly followed up, not wanting to know. "Yes, Milksy. Just a pepper up potion."

"At once."

Hermione waited until the diminutive elf left before forcing herself upright with a groan. Her back tense and head still pounding; she hoped she'd feel better after she moved a bit.

She glanced to her clock, and forced her tired muscles to move marginally faster. It was 20 till. Opening her wardrobe, she grasped a fresh set of cyan outer robes.

"Here's." Milksy said handing her the potion at the same time.

"One moment." She slipped one arm and then the next through; the robes hanging momentarily open as she took the bottle. "Thank you, Milksy."

"Is you'se needing anything else this mornings?"

Hermione banished the empty bottle, hands deftly fastening her robe. "No. Thank you."

"Goods day." And with a flash she was gone; and Hermione hurriedly finished readying herself.

Her mind upon the upcoming transformation, and the after effects. There was a small amount of trepidation coursing through her; as last night had been – exhausting. And to conduct this first thing in the morning felt foolish, but Minerva wouldn't have planned it for this morning without reason.

The mere thought of the Headmistress' name sending her thoughts in turmoil.

_What in Merlin's name had Kane been thinking? That they were lovers?_ She scoffed,_ Lovers? Her and Minerva McGonagall. He obviously has been incarcerated for too long. To think that Minerva McGonagall had taken a lover._

_ After having been married to Albus Dumbledore._

_ Who would measure up to that?_

She grasped her wand and en route to her door; transfigured a thread into a leather tie. Mind still reeling on Kane's wayward comment as she pulled her thick head of hair back.

_Who would want to try?_

_ Though,_ she grasped the bundle of essays she had managed to mark over the weekend and shrunk them down, placing them in her pocket. _I did have the errant thought that perhaps Minerva and Lucius were lovers – in some momentary break from reality on my part. As I'm sure, she is like everyone else; and desires physical comfort. _

Her face, immediately followed by her whole body, flushed at the thought of Minerva having sex. And…she found herself swallowing hard, eyes blurring for a moment as her hand remained fixed around the handle.

"Are you feeling alright?" Godric asked concerned at the sudden flush appearing on Hermione's skin.

_The way emerald eyes darkened into a pool of hunter green, milky skin colored rose…_

"Hermione," Concern instantly turning into downright worry, as he raised his voice; mentally wondering if the younger witch had pushed herself too far yesterday. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She turned to Godric, "Just…tired. Sorry," She forcibly removed the thought away, not believing she had crossed _that _line with Minerva of all people. "And lost in thought for a moment."

Godric didn't comment further, not entirely convinced as to her reasoning; he'd have to keep a closer watch on the young woman. His eyes remained fixed upon her figure as she stood for a few moments more and then exited her rooms while muttering, "Pull it together."

At her parting comment, his worries were confirmed – and he'd ensure to allocate the necessary time to make sure she was well. And with that fleeting thought, he strode from the frame in the Tower to that of the Headmistress' office.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva flexed her fingers, enjoying the relatively pain free movement as she sipped her tea. The drain was becoming, unmanageable as was the pain. Simple spells, like drying her hair and lacing up her boots, were beginning to cause mild unease in her fingers and hand; let alone, the daily spells that Hogwarts required or Merlin forbid anything of substance.

Glancing to the clock, she took another hearty sip. Hermione would be arriving momentarily; and she'd have to assist in orchestrating the transformation. And while she inwardly cringed at having to assist, it was nowhere near as taxing as having performed the whole of the spell. Truth of the matter, she would probably have breached what remained of her magical core to achieve all four transformations. Now, she had a few more months to look forward too, unless something else surfaced.

And while, a few months sounded divine; especially with the approach of the Holidays, there was a very real, very uncomfortable truth that she was going to have to face. That she was becoming that which she had fought to protect for a life time, a squib.

Yes, she could perform magic. Knew tens of thousands of spells. However, being able to cast a hand full of spells before charring her hands black and becoming overly fatigued did not mean it was something she could do, often. Not like she once had been able to do. And she had to start altering…her life.

She set the tea cup down.

Whether she admitted it to herself or not, she had to start soon. She flexed her fingers, before reaching out to grasp her wand; feeling a coil of trepidation at the pit of her stomach. Her body was beginning to react adversely to the volume of pain casting spells produced. She was sure it would continue to worsen as her condition deteriorated; and she stacked it up with the long list of items she didn't want to have to overcome, but would because she had to.

The whole issue at St. Mungos a few weeks ago had begun to highlight the latest obstacle; as her hand didn't _want _to continue with line of the spell and she had to force it to…knowing that it would cause pain. Her body was becoming trained not to _want _to cast the spell; much like a child might touch a burning hot plate, once.

Twirling her long ebony wand within her fingers, it had been a marvelously faithful tool throughout her life. And now, as she approached its end, it seemed that life had a strange sense of irony.

She stood as the gargoyle activated, Hermione was here.

The very object that had saved her life countless times, would end it. And she'd be the one to do it. By her own hand. Weaving a spell, hopefully in an effort to save the wizarding world, Hogwarts, the Order, her children…even perhaps Helena and Harold, Rory or…her eyes flickered to the green door, Hermione and her two children. She could only hope that, in the end, her body wouldn't override her will to cast the spell; and that the innate responses to wanting to avoid the pain would be able to be overridden.

"Good morning." She stated, pushing the ill thought aside as the door opened revealing a slightly haggard woman. She had a body to transform. "You look a bit piqued this morning."

Hermione eyed the elder woman, "Should I ask why you don't?"

"Magic." Minerva strode forward, "Your hair looks nice pulled back."

"Thank you." She stated, having hoped that they would talk a few more minutes before ascending upstairs. However, from Minerva's approach, that did not seem to be the case. "Comfort, ease and unobtrusive during spell casting was the impetus."

"I do understand." Minerva drew up beside her, asking the question that needed to be asked; although, a part of her didn't want to ask it. "Are you up to performing the spell this morning?"

"No," Hermione answered honestly, "However, I am going to."

"There is no need to push…"

Hermione cut off the other woman unable to listen further, "After everything you have been doing to yourself, do you honestly believe I am any less committed? I was being honest, as you have been with me and telling you that I am tired; but that doesn't mean that I won't be conducting the spell. As I am sure you are as tired as I, if not more so; so please spare me the false platitudes this morning."

The portraits stared at the young woman, after all…it had been a long time since anyone other than Minerva's closest friends held their ground to the formidable woman. Their collective eyes turning to the Headmistress…expecting to see a stoic wall and hear how inaccurate Hermione's supposition was; despite the truth in her words.

"Very well." Minerva clipped, motioning to the door, "Shall we?"

And had the canvas not been a barrier, near half of the portraits would have fallen out of their respective frames; as the woman didn't rebuff, contradict, or even obfuscate the remark with her typical flare and cutting wit. Instead, she had taken the comment in stride and moved ahead. It seemed as though the young witch had become what few ever did to the woman; a friend. Not a friend affixed in the role of a mentor to a student or as a warm acquaintance after having graduated the hallowed halls of Hogwarts multiple decades prior; but someone who was rapidly approaching a level footing or dare they believe - the most unlikeliest possibilities; a person Minerva viewed as an equal.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione shook her head, willing her eyes to remain open and fight back the onslaught of fatigue. "I shall be fine, and will accompany you…"

"You needn't, Hermione." Minerva gently smiled; "I will return to my chambers after breakfast and sleep for the morning, whereas you have class. Do not be foolish, you have time to sleep for almost two hours before your first class."

"Why am I so tired, and you…appear only moderately fatigued?" She asked, fighting back a third yawn in as many minutes. "Is it do to the complexity and the energy required to sustain the spell? As if I were building a muscle?"

"I," Minerva motioned for the door, opening and waiting for Hermione to pass through into her small office. "Have been conducting transformation for decades, and you days. Also, I sculpted your transformation, while you performed the spell itself. Hence, I expelled far less energy."

Hermione glanced at Minerva's right hand; the tips were still heavily burnt. While not as charcoaled as last night; nor did it stretch to both hands, it had to have been uncomfortable. "Your fingers are still burnt."

"Nothing a light glamour or a pair of gloves won't cover." She motioned paused in her living room, inwardly debating. It was obvious that Hermione was exhausted, and while remaining awake for another ten minutes wouldn't kill her; she was sure it would make a remarkable difference by the end of the day. Especially as Hermione had seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherins as her last class. However, it would do little to help stave off Minerva's growing…fascination with Hermione.

Stilling the absurdity of her own thoughts, and focusing on Hermione's welfare; her decision was made. "Here." She waved open her door, guiding Hermione into her bedroom.

"Minerva, I can make it to my own…" Hermione covered her mouth as she yawned, mumbling the last of her sentence. "Room. Besides, you'll be here in an hour and…" She wiped at her eyes. "I'll be in the way."

Minerva eased Hermione's wand from her grasp, setting it on the end table. "I believe it'll work out. Now," She flipped back the comforter, two blankets and sheet; "Get some rest, and either I or Elgin will make sure you get to class."

"Minerva…I…" Her gaze became fixed upon the far too welcoming bed, and the overwhelming temptation to do what Minerva had suggested, take a nap – in Minerva's bed. It was like sleeping on a slice of pure luxury. Guiltily she lifted her gaze, not wanting to fight any more and just…give in for an hour.

Minerva merely smiled, gently squeezing her shoulder; "Get some rest, dear." She stated and walked out of her bedroom. Elgin already waiting by the table, two bottles levitating beside him; eyes watching the door and not speaking until he was sure it was closed. "You'se potions."

Minerva wordlessly summoned the first, banishing the lid and draining the contents within a long swallow before setting it on the coffee table. A minute later, the first one was joined by a second and Elgin expectantly looked at Minerva; waiting. "Please see to it that Hermione is roused by 8:35 as I will undoubtedly be sleeping."

"You'se wish me to brings her a light breakfast too?"

"Coffee, a croissant and a small dish of fruit." Minerva answered without thought, stretching out her hand and finding herself at the door to the Great Hall; another day underway.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione brushed the annoyance away, shifting deeper into her bed already drifting back into a heavy slumber. However, much to her chagrin, she felt the irritant again.

"Go away." She muttered into her pillow, "Come back in an hour."

"You'se been sleeping for almost twos and is needing to be up, now Miss Hermione's."

With heavy eyes, brown orbs slowly focused on the large opalescent ones staring back at her. Her thought process barely functioning as she tried to remain semi-coherent while blinking again. "Just a few more minutes." She drawled, eyes fluttering close.

"The Mistress asked that I wake you, I'se is sorry."

"Mistress?" Came a semblance of a question as she spoke; the word finally igniting a spark of functioning. "Elgin?"

"Yes, you'se needs to get up."

"It's Sunday, I think a few more minutes will be fine." She went to shift, her left hand touching a smooth warmth and a contented sigh left her lips.

Idly her fingers traced the surface, mind already falling asleep now that Elgin had left…

Elgin.

The word finally rung as a discord – cognition sparking, eyes rushing open as her head turned to the side to see a splay of black hair…

A dousing rush of warm water blinded her vision, wetting her head, robe heavily clinging to her body and her deadened senses finally came alive. Wiping her hair out of her face, she realized she was standing in a shower.

Not hers.

It had eight jets…blue tile.

Her head snapped around, fingers pushing the door open and she felt her stomach deaden. Her supposition was right; she was in Minerva's bathroom. Elgin staring up at her, "I's is sorry, Hermione's. You'se was not getting ups and have class in half hour."

"How long was I asleep?" She went to turn the water off.

"Don'ts." Elgin reached up to pull the door closed, "Takes shower, banish you'se clothes to here," He gestured the floor outside the shower, "I'se gets you fresh robes from you'se rooms."

"I'm fine."

The door latched, his voice coming through as if he was standing there with it open, "You'se feel better. Please."

Hermione paused, before finally do what he stated and banishing her now sodden robes; to feel the delectable water refresh her skin. She immediately noticed to shelves; one to the left held soaps and shampoos; the other a singular bar of soap, a clothe, and her brand of shampoo and conditioner. _Elgin must have retrieved some from my shower,_ a smile innately curved her lips and she found herself pausing as she reached for the soap. Eyes gravitating to the other, and without thought, fingers clutched the cream colored bar. And she found herself breathing deeply, lifting it upwards as she did.

A mix of lavender and heather. _That was the other scent. Heather. _She had always been able to smell the lavender, traces of vanilla but it was the heather that had left her baffled. She went to put it back, but having the soap all over her hands; she decided to go ahead…and wash.

Five minutes later, she wandlessly dried her hair and body as she stepped from the shower; feeling oddly reinvigorated despite her underlying fatigue. To the left was dark, and not willing to further invade Minerva's privacy; she veered ahead and was eternally thankful to see she had chosen correctly. A full set of clothes lay neatly folded along the edge of the sink; her outer robes hanging neatly on the hook beside the lavender vanity top.

To the back and right; her eyes immediately noticed a smattering of personal affects that she knew once belonged to Dumbledore. _Albus,_ she immediately corrected, eyes remaining affixed to the elegant silver beard tie. She had seen this a thousand times, clasping his beard; keeping it neat. However, the intricacy and detail was phenomenal; _probably a gift from Minerva. _With great care, she reached out; intent upon picking it up when the long tendrils of metal flashed and she swallowed.

She was holding his wedding ring.

And she just stared at the circular object held between her fingers. Unabashedly stared.

Of course, she had known they were married. Minerva had let her see a photo album of their marriage. On three occasions she had even witnessed Minerva wearing her own wedding ring. But to hold his…

Her heart pounded in her chest as she brought it forward. The light gleaming off its smooth silvery surface, and she noticed the faint etching upon the inner part of the band. Curiosity beat in time as her heart as she tipped the band, eyes narrowing to try and make out the lettering. It covered the entirety of the inside of the band, so small that it was impossible to make out the lettering.

Picking up her wand, she waved it and a mirror image of the letters suddenly appeared hovering before her.

And her shoulders drooped as she finally read, or tried to read what had been engraved upon the inside of the ring. As it was in Gaelic. She recognized a few words; you, have, love. You had been written three times. And she now knew why the lettering had been so small. There were over thirteen words. She cocked her head, wand spreading out the letters; and she realized she _could _read a bit.

"To have you. To…something…you. To love you." She stared at the cluster of letters before that and felt foolish. "Of course, morning. Morning what?" She muttered aloud.

"You'se must be in class in fifteen minutes." Hermione about jumped out of her skin at the voice, practically dropping the ring as she jerked around to see no one there. Shaking her head, she glanced back at the ring and the words and dispelled them; she'd work on it later. Dear heavens, what was she thinking, she was already late. She went to put the ring back, and found a part of her _wanting _to hold on to the object. Berating her sudden absurdity, she placed it back upon the vanity top, prepared to transfigure it back to the beard tie; only to marvel at how it morphed back to the silvery tie on its own.

Hurriedly she slipped on her clothes, pulling a brush through her hair not bothering to pick up the leather tie Elgin had included. Most days she preferred it down, but upon glancing back to her reflection; she picked up the tie and clasped it back. It had been nice not to have to contend with her hair this morning while casting.

Moving forward, she quietly stepped into Minerva's bedroom; eyes innately pulling to the large bed and gravitating to the pale skinned woman sprawled out upon the far side.

It was a scene she was sure had only been witnessed by the most trusted of friends or intimate partners. And one, she was willing to be late to class as she wanted to commit the image to memory. She doubted she'd ever have such an opportunity again.

She was beautiful.

There was no disputing it.

The contrast between her creamy white skin to her ebony locks and dark lashes to the way her high cheekbones and angular jaw…molded into rose hued lips. The comforter and blankets pooled just beneath her right shoulder, arm stretched outward as her long fingers clutched around the edge of the sheet.

However, it was a testament of how beautiful she was…because it was also obvious that the stress from the past few months had taken their toll upon the woman. Dark circles appeared to have been painted on beneath her eyes; her cheeks were bordering on becoming sunken; and while her skin remained cream colored, she was sure it held more vibrancy and less of an ash undertone.

The faint whimper jerked brown eyes back to rose lips and the way her hand tightened around the sheet. It seemed that while she was sleeping more, she was still being plagued with nightmares.

Pushing the observation away, she let her gaze linger for a moment more before stepping from the room and starting her day, again.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Where?" Helena remarked, still flipping another page over the top of her clipboard.

"Sussex." Michaels repeated, moderately worried at his mentor's seeming lack of attention. "He was brought here at just after five this morning."

"I don't suppose they want him back?" She quipped as they turned the corner.

Michaels couldn't stop the smile from fluttering over his face; apparently not only were his worries ill justified; it seemed that her quirky sense of humor was still intact. "No, they were quite relieved when we took him this morning."

"I can only imagine." Helena drawled, "And how long has he been there?"

"Just over three months. I reviewed his charts from the muggle hospital this morning along with conducting a full body exam."

"Any irregularities?"

"He had been given a high amount of ativan and haloperidol."

"What dosages?"

"Enough to sedate him."

She glanced up from her notes for the morning, "Why? He has been rather harmless, save for his obnoxious personality which is moderately better without his ego intact."

Michaels gave a half hearted nod, "It seems that…" He opened the door and she strode through, as the occupant turned to Helena flashing her a large toothy smile as rich brown locks fell to the side of his face.

"Helena Harrison." He stretched out his hand, "It has been ages since we last met. I'm _sure_ you of course remember me, Gilderoy." He vigorously shook her hand, "Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Parts of his memory have resurfaced." Michaels finished drawing an arched brow from the less than pleased woman whose hand remained in her patient's vice grip.

"Get the Ministry and Minerva." She mouthed before plastering a smile on her face and turning back to the bane of a man.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva's attention, along with a third of the Great Halls occupants, was pulled to the speeding owl that had let out a distinct screech as it darted to the Teacher's table; it's intent clear – a message for the Headmistress. Minerva remained outwardly calm, knowing that owl…anywhere. Hoot.

"Is that not Helena's owl?" Trepidation lining Filius' voice.

"It is." Minerva remarked as Hoot elegantly altered his wings at the last moment to gracefully stop before her. "Hello my friend." She conjured a piece of bacon from the bowels of the castle and handed him the morsel before untying the scrolled letter. Hoot gave a warm trill nudging her hand as she slit the parchment. Narrowing her eyes, she felt her mouth draw into a thin line.

"There is no need for you to wait; I shall visit her in person." Minerva stated to Hoot, drawing a look from Filius as she rolled up the letter.

"Then you won't be remaining for lunch?"

"It seems Gilderoy has been found," She pushed her chair back, standing. "Alive." She palmed her walking cane, "If you'd be so kind as to call up lunch." Minerva stated already striding back to the teacher's entrance, and upon opening the door almost rammed into another professor.

Both she and the other person jerked back, avoiding the other at the last moment; and Minerva's senses were already trying to place the person as they turned to the other. However, the scent was…off. She knew each of the Professor's scent. It was a by-product of her animagus. One as natural as breathing. Yet, this person…had a scent of lavender, heather, mixed with oatmeal, chalk, a hint of almond, and an airy aroma she oft associated with Hermione.

Realization dawned as her eyes fixed upon the younger woman, it was Hermione; as an apology fell from her lips, "I'm sorry."

"As am I." She whispered, eyes inadvertently flickering to the lines of Minerva's mouth. An ache erupting in her to want to lean forward…yet, Minerva had already moved, thankfully past her. However, it left her thoughts in turmoil as Minerva relayed that she was heading to St. Mungos, Lockhart having been found. Thankfully the logical aspect of her brain uttered an appropriate response, "The wizarding world is safer already." She quipped drawing not only a smile but a rumble of laughter from the elder witch before a faint pop denoted her departure.

However, Hermione remained rooted to the spot. Realization deadening out all notion or thought of where she was or had been intent upon going; because in reality nothing else mattered at the moment.

How could it?

She had almost leaned forward to kiss…Minerva.

The gravity of what she had done…reverberating through her skull as a cluster of words defined the woman, Minerva.

_ Minerva McGonagall. The Headmistress of Hogwarts. Master of Transfiguration. Head chairperson of the Wizengamout. First Order of Merlin. _

She clutched her stomach and darted to the nearest restroom, thankful that it was empty as she threw open the door; never making it to the commode…

_Hero of the war against Voldemort. Best friend of Helena Harrison, St. Mungos Head Administrator. Mother of four. Wife of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. _

The contents of her stomach spewing outward as her knees struck the floor. "Oh shit." She whispered as she took deep gasps to still her nerves and her shocked realization at what she had almost done.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva curtailed her commentary and kept the dubious expression from surfacing on her face as she walked past her long time friend; both Arthur and Helena taking up a flank position and following her into the room.

At once, the flamboyant wizard turned to see who had sought his company and a flicker of a recent memory flashed and his face remained rigid as it converged with previous knowledge. His previous demeanor gone as he stared at the woman he had once thought beautiful, and on some level still did. While she was nowhere near his own beauty, she would at least be a comparable second and worthy of being next to him as his wife. "I was supposed to give you a message." He said, not recalling why he was to; or when he had been given it.

"Gilderoy do you know who I am?" Minerva questioned, and he tsked in response.

"Of course, Minerva. Just last year I courted you into becoming my wife; which…" He leaned forward, "You do need to get back to me on that, as our wedding should be conducted this spring. Marvelous color arrangements in spring."

"You taught at Hogwarts seventeen years prior, Gildroy."

Green eyes widened, "Minerva, it was only yesterday…"

"I assure you, it has been seventeen years." She interjected, "An accident occurred and you lost most of your memory and have been at St. Mungos for the duration of that time…"

He shook his head, recognition flashing as he reached out and in an iron grip latched onto her arm. "They came for me." Panic laced murky jade orbs, "For…_you_." He jerked back, screaming. "YOU! He wants you!"

Helena, her staff and Arthur all had their wands out as Lockheart backed up, "Calm down Gildroy." Helena's clipped tone barely being heard over his shrieking.

"Hogwarts! You and Hogwarts! Fodder! The rest of us…to him! I gotta go!" He tried and flipped the bed, "Get away! Or I'll be Fodder!"

"Gilderoy!" Minerva bellowed over top of Helena and her previous colleague, "The message, give me the message he relayed to you."

Eyes locked and for a scarce moment, everyone thought he'd utter it; but his face fell and chestnut locks rocked side to side as he brokenly stated, "I don't remember."

Helena laid a hand on Minerva's arm, "He has been at a muggle psychiatric hospital and on some significant psychotropic medication. He may not be able to remember."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Lasting effects…" There was a noted pause as Hermione waited for a response from the woman on the other side of the fire. "Did you have an adverse effect when trying to cast the spell? One that Minerva doesn't know about? She said that it went well."

"Fatigue; which can also be attributed to the spell Kane taught me."

"That is not why you called me." Helena rebuked. "What else is troubling you?"

"A splitting headache…"

"Something I'm sure a few more draughts from Hogwarts stores will cure." A gentler tone suddenly descending across the room, "Now, what's really troubling you, Hermione?"

"Have you ever heard of ancillary side effects following a leglimency spell?"

Helena innately drew away from the flames, worried. She steeled her nerves and buried her feelings, willing her healer persona to surface. "There can several side effects," She leaned forward, eyes scanning Hermione. "Rarely are they severe or long term."

Hermione took a deep breath, lip momentarily pinched in her teeth as she tried to decide how to ask what she needed to know. "What of memory or feelings transfer from the other person?"

"It can happen, and due to how he initiated the spell through the wards; it is entirely plausible that there was a slight transference. What's different?"

"How close were Kane and Minerva?" Hermione questioned, quickly continuing on so Helena did not mistake her query. "Did he live at her and Albus' home? Viewed like a brother? Son?"

"Minerva cares for him as something between a friend and family. I think she always hoped he would pursue Esmerele."

"Why didn't he?"

There was a momentary pause as Helena decided how to answer, "Timing." She quietly stated, knowing the horrid truth of how his parents had died causing him to settle matters of their estate and make arrangements for his sister who was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. Upon returning, Esmerele had met Johannes...

"And you think the…transference should dissipate?"

"What do you believed transferred?"

She shook her head, "Please, Helena." The strain of their conversation evident in her voice.

"If there was a transference, it will dissipate."

Hermione felt a marginal wave of relief course through her. She had been right. Her feelings and momentary urge to lean forward and kiss Minerva had been the result of yesterday's legimency. "Thank you, Helena."

"You will let me know if it continues?"

Hermione easily nodded, not really paying attention. "Yes." She half heartedly whispered, "Of course."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione idly twirled a glass of wine as she stared at the cluster of letters; lines denoting the words she had translated. It was a puzzle. Something to keep her mind occupied. Probably not the one she should be working on, but then again; it seemed there were a lot of things that should not be today, that were.

Her thoughts had been riveted upon Minerva since waking the first time this morning; let alone the second. Initially, it was regarding her welfare stemming from how utterly fatigued she had felt upon waking. She couldn't imagine how Minerva had already cast the spell on two successive days and was still functioning. Yet, somehow she was and she appeared more coherent than her. Then…the spell.

Her magic had coalesced with Minerva's transforming the body.

However, it was shortly after that; that had left her…wondering. The smooth warmth she had believed she had touched...when Elgin had tried waking her. Had it been a dream? Or was Minerva's skin…that soft?

"Complete." The robotic computer voice interrupted her musing.

Hermione frowned as she leaned forward, touching the mouse pad to bring the computer to life as her eyes scanned the screen.

"How can it not be found?" She muttered at the damning machine. "It's Gaelic." She read the notes, and sighed. It had to be personally translated, it could not be done by automation. "Figures." She took a hearty swallow of her wine; eyes returning to the letters.

She had managed to translate one more word that had been sandwiched between two words she already knew. And she stared at the partial translation.

_ Morning….…to have you to hold you to love you…..…_

"Milksy." She called out, and didn't have to wait for long.

"Hermione's." Her brows furloughing together at the plethora of books and parchments on her coffee table with the computer set up. "What's I'se helps you with?"

"I know you speak Gaelic, but can you read it?"

"Of course." Pride lacing her words.

"Do you think you could translate," She picked up the piece of paper and handed it Milksy, "This?"

Milksy turned the paper around, eyes skimming the letters for a long moment before nodding. "Yes." She reached down, taking the quill. "You minds?"

Hermione nodded, "Please."

Milksy quickly scratched the missing words in and handed the parchment back, "Here's."

Hermione took the offering, and stared at the words. _Morning twilight. A starlit sky. To have you. To hold you. To love you. Forever. Bound. _"And you are sure this is what it says?"

"Quite Miss Hermione's. It was one of the first cluster of words I learned to reads." Milksy smiled fondly at the memory, "Its engraved under the Mistress and Mr. Albus' picture."

"Their wedding portrait?"

"No," Milksy corrected, "Its is of them laters."

"And the engraving, there must be a significance to it. At the Manor, not one of the portraits have a plaque or anything beneath them."

"I'se dos not knows. Only that it is there."

_Curious. _Hermione thought, filled with questions and wanting to ask them, however, knowing that Milksy would not have the answers. "Thank you for your time and your assistance, it was much appreciated."

"Milksy was most glad to have helped. Good nights Miss Hermione."

"Good night, Milksy." Hermione watched as the relatively young elf vanished, and Hermione cast a glance back to the paper.

"Morning Twilight. A Starlit Sky. To Have you. To Hold you. To Love you. Forever. Bound." She murmured while twirling her glass in her hand, "What does that mean?"

She stared at the words, wondering. What would possess Minerva and Dumbledore to engrave it on the inside of their bands? Or was it not engraved on the inside of Minerva's too? Was it only on Dumbledore's? Were those her words?

She leaned back into her cushions the paper fluttering down on to the table, "And why am I so intrigued?"

_Kane? _She took a sip. _Did he care for Minerva more than merely as a mentor? Is that why he didn't seek out Esmerele? Because he liked her? It was obvious that he cared for Minerva, to the point of risking his own life to help her._

_ Minerva. _The singular word reverberating through her skull, flashes of the woman passing before her. And with a final swallow, she emptied her wine glass and stood, leaving the glass next to the taunting phrase. It was rapidly approaching eleven, and she desperately needed to find a way to get a few hours sleep; as tomorrow she was suppose to join Minerva in assisting with 'killing' Warren and his family.

A few minutes later, she was pulling her comforters up and she found herself shifting again. She wasn't quite comfortable. Another few minutes went by, thoughts upon lesson plans; finishing fourth year essays and she shifted again. The third time she moved, an audible sigh left her lips in frustration as she pulled another pillow down her length to place under her knee trying to get comfortable. _I didn't have this problem this morning, _she thought as she shifted her lower back, again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Work has been bit crazy of late, so no guarantees as to when there will be another update. However, rest assured, there will be one. Eventually. As always – I hope you enjoyed and greatly appreciate your kind words. _


	62. Chapter 59 December 16th, 2009

**Chapter 59 ~ December 16****th****, 2009 (Wednesday)**

Minerva steadied herself for the day she was about to face. Warren's residence would be or had already been found and she would be informed today. Undoubtedly, she would receive a plethora of calls from not only the Ministry, but her colleagues, family, Order members, and Aegis.

And she couldn't afford to flinch or make a mistake once, or it would have all been for naught.

Despite the unsteadiness of her right hand, she was still easily able to weave her hair into a bun. A light charm and several pins later, she shifted her head to the right and then left; it would hold for the arduous day ahead.

She stepped back, about to leave; but paused, and altered her route by heading towards Albus' half of the bathroom. _I so rarely come over here, _she thought as she eyed the precious items still strewn atop the vanity belaying the passage of time.

A spare pair of glasses, he did so have a devil of a time not losing them; dragon scale backed brush; his beard catch…she paused and reached forward – and immediately at her touch it reverted back to his wedding band. It had been the one thing she had not let be buried upon his death.

She just…couldn't.

Because, he was still…here. With her. And while he might not be here physically, he was here.

Enfolding it within her hands, she brought it to her chest and held it there for a long moment; remembering what it was like to have him here with her…physically. "I do miss you," her eyes tearing up, "Terribly," she whispered before pulling back her hand and forcing herself to put the treasured article back.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rage burned back at him, from practically soulless black orbs. "DEAD!" He screeched; wand clutched white knuckled within his hand. "Are _you_ sure it was her cousin and family?"

The older wizard's jaw clenched, "They were severely burnt," Aegis talked over Johannes, "However, it was discernible that they were her relations."

"And it wasn't a ruse, they were not transfigured…?"

"No." Douglas finally interjected, "There were no magical traces and Aegis immediately tried to revert their bodies back; they were her relations."

Johannes turned from the two men and walked away, mind spinning. He'd have to find another way to access _her_ damn property, unless he could get one of her children or the handful of friends she let know where her property lay. He had been sure from all that Esmerele had said, it would have been Warren. _Hidden in plain sight._ That's what he was. A part of the family, and yet no one would ever guess. However, that had not been the case. Warren had not been her secret keeper as he would have recalled where her blasted manor was. He would have been able to access it and retrieve the leather volume buried in the recesses of her vast collection. "I still require her secret keeper or a way to access her property, gentlemen." He gravely whispered, not bothering to turn around.

"Why?" Aegis asked, "What is contained there that is worth so much?"

"Our key to immortality."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry shook his head as he stood, "I can't believe she didn't do anything." He muttered, shocked at the utter devastation before him.

"Whatchya mean?" Ron pulled the cheese from his mouth.

"Nothing." He blinked back the wave of tears, "What did you find?"

Ron finished his bite, "It was natural, no magic."

"What?" Harry asked, head whipping around so fast that it could have been a precursor to whiplash. "What do you mean no magic? The fire, devastation…"

"Grain alcohol. Looks like there was an explosion in the cellar and a flash fire incinerated the house and occupants. Poor sods, probably never knew what happened." He pointed to the charred remains of the back wall, "From what Evans said, Warren was in the cellar and his wife and children were in the kitchen upstairs…"

"Fire went off before they could apparate away."

"Strong wards still remain around the immediate house and property; they wouldn't have been able to apparate away."

"Blood wards." Harry said, eying the property.

Ron nodded, "Yeah, how'd ya know?"

Olive green eyes turned to him, "He was related to McGonagall."

His eyes widened, "Related? Crud. Does she know? And do you think…" He eyed the scorched earth, blackened ash remains of the property, "Harkiss could have faked…"

"There is no magical residue." Arthur interrupted, causing both his son and son-in-law to turn to him. "None. On the bodies, the home, the property – only the family wards remain, and they are intact. There wasn't foul play; it was just an accident."

"Perhaps," Harry met his father-in-law's gaze with his own steady one, "However, I was informed last week, and informed McGonagall that Warren and his family were being targeted by Harkiss."

Arthur didn't bat an eyelash in his response, "Well, Harry, it seems fate beat him to it."

"Fate." The morning rays sparkled off the pearly frost littering the frozen terrain, highlighting the blackened area even more. "Or someone more creative." He glanced at Ron and Arthur, "What if this is an elaborate ruse put on by the Headmistress to protect Warren and his family from Harkiss?"

Ron paused, brow arched to physically glance past Harry; Arthur turned his head and looked back too; both immediately began shaking their heads. Ron popped the last of his cheese into his mouth, "Nah, Harry, it's too big. Too much could have gone wrong, and beside; she's been up at the school. How would she have planned this, run Hogwarts and still be at the house this weekend playing quidditch? No way."

"She's a tactician, a brilliant one Harry." Arthur turned to his son. "And despite your belief Ron, she has an incredible amount of resources and I can only imagine what her motivations would be to protect what remains of her family. As I am sure, she'd use every one of them to ensure their safety. As for the scope: you are right, Harry," Arthur nodded, "She has the capabilities. However," He gave a singular shake of his head, "This is beyond her skill. Anyone's skill. Those _are_ Warren and his family's bodies. They aren't transfigured from sticks or an animal; but are the real bodies. As I said, no magical traces."

"What if…she _could_ transfigure a body?"

"She has and is one of the few persons in the world to be able to do so." Arthur acknowledged, "But, it follows the laws of transfiguration: it's able to be reverted back and it leaves a magical trace behind, letting a skilled witch or wizard know that something has been transfigured."

"She's a right witch, Harry but…she just…well," Ron shrugged, "There are limits, and transfiguring a body is hers. Making it seem as though its human, nah…mate. She isn't Dumbledore."

Hermione's words rumbling through Harry's mind from a few months ago, _"I've never seen anyone duel as she did, Harry. Not even Dumbledore."_

_ "Was she really that good?"_

_ "Better." Hermione paused as she raised her glass to her lips, "It was amazing."_

_ "So was Dumbledore."_

_ Hermione slowly nodded, "He was. It's just…I can't explain it Harry. She could easily have rivaled him."_

_ "You really think so?"_

_ She swallowed deeply, "After the alley and the Simmons the other night," She set the glass back down, "There is no doubt in my mind that she was at least his equal."_

"No, Ron." Harry finally turned to his best friend, "She isn't."

* * *

oxox

* * *

* * *

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose; arduous didn't begin to describe how the day had turned out. And she still had to get through dinner.

The only saving grace: Warren and his family were safe.

"Is you'se ready?" Elgin asked, blinking up at her.

Minerva pulled her glasses off, closing the paper thin frames and tucking them in to her robes. "No." She answered honestly drawing a raised eye brow from her diminutive companion. "But dinner does await."

A grin pulled upon his weathered face as he nodded, "That it does, Mistress. That it does."

"Please take me to the main doors."

Elgin peered at her for a moment not understanding her request, but knowing that there must be a reason or she would not ask. "Very well." He replied.

She felt him slip his hand through her arm and with a barely perceptible nod, Minerva could feel Hogwarts' magic coalesce and Elgin's tingle over her skin before with a soft pop she was standing by the large double doors that lead into the Great Hall. Palming her walking stick and stilling her back, she opened the door; hundreds of heads turned to see who the late arrival was and upon seeing it was her - several more turned, the ambient noise dying away. When she was this late, she never came through the main doors; rather the side door. However, today had been unusual.

And she knew it, as did they.

By the time she climbed the handful of steps to the head table, the loudest noise permeating the Hall was emanating from her walking stick. Her eyes had remained resolutely fixed, ignoring the sorrowful looks by both students and faculty, but upon reaching the top stair, her gaze faltered and she was staring into understanding brown eyes.

An unspoken word traveling between them. "Perception."

And Minerva lifted her gaze, a stoic albeit honest expression fixed upon her features as she turned around, meeting her students faces.

"Speculation does not equate confirmation and despite what the Prophet printed this morning, I can personally assure each of you that Warren and his family's death was accidental." She lifted her hand, to quell the immediate rumbling. "However, during these difficult times caution is paramount and I would urge each of you to relay that to your family and loved ones."

Marx tipped his head to the side to quietly question his colleague, "Do you believe that Harkiss didn't go after her relations?"

Hermione easily relayed a version of the truth, "I had an opportunity to speak with Minerva earlier, and she said that her cousin's death had stemmed from an accident in his cellar involving grain alcohol."

Marx's eyes flickered to Minerva who was just now sitting between Filius and Pomona. "Accident or no, how much more can the woman take?" Hermione felt her mouth curl into a frown and Marx continued on, voice barely construed as a whisper. "In the last five months, she has had to contend with running Hogwarts, circumventing the Ministry, Kingsley, Harkiss…and now losing members of her family. I don't know how she does it," He shook his head, "She must have a remarkable support system."

Hermione felt her head nod in agreement, her mind instantly conjuring Minerva's support system – Helena, probably Harold, Rory, the house elves and…. She couldn't place her children on the list, because while she knew Minerva loved her children, she rarely included them in her exploits or plans undoubtedly shielding them from the dangers. Her eyes ran down the length of the table, and she found herself adding Filius' name, but somehow she doubted Pomona's name would be there. But other than Filius there were no other names she found herself looking to add from Hogwarts and after mentally ticking off the list of the Order, there were no names from there…save for herself. And, she glanced upwards to Minerva, contemplating – could she truly add her name to the list of persons who 'supported' Minerva?

She viewed Minerva as a friend. Well, truth be told, probably more than a friend. Somewhere during the past several months, Minerva had become … well, not really a best friend but she was definitely more than_ just _a friend.

And, for better or worse, she realized that she did 'support' Minerva. If she didn't or hadn't; she never would have done what she did to _help_ her regarding the whole transformation of the bodies and the lengths she went through to help her.

Green eyes flickered over the expanse between them, and she couldn't help but wonder.

_ Did Minerva view her the same way?_

* * *

oxox

* * *

"I don't know how, but…" Harry stared at the Headmistress, "I _know_ in my gut that you had something to do with the fire at Warren's property. And I'd be willing to wager the whole of my Gringott's account that they are safe somewhere."

Minerva met his tirade with stoic resolve, "As wondrous as that would be, I'm afraid I'd lose a rather tidy sum of money. I was at Hogwarts last eve and had nothing to do with the fire at Warren's property, and after identifying the bodies, I assure you that I will be attending my cousin and his family's funeral."

Harry reached in to his pocket pulling a small vial from its depths, eyes tearing up. "I have to know." He nodded to the vial, "After everything that happened with Dumbledore, his secrets, and the magic and spells that I've seen you cast. Are you telling me the truth?"

Minerva could feel Albus' gaze burrowing into her back along with his own unease, mirroring her own, as the gallery of portraits tried not to shift as her eyes flickered to the cobalt dram bottle. "Veritaserum?"

He gave a singular nod, "Yes." His voice sounding strained, "I…just…have to know."

Without a moment of reservation, Minerva reached for the bottle and drained the contents in one fell swoop. Emerald eyes sparkled as she set the container back down, "Let us give the potion a moment, shall we?"

"Minerva, I…"

Minerva gently shook her head, "I understand, Harry." She could feel the tendrils of the potion spidering through her system, along with the burning sensation as her body naturally destroyed it.

"Who are your other children?"

Minerva incrementally weighed her options, while she didn't have to answer truthfully; she was sure that the truth would be revealed to the Order before too much more time passed. "Esmerele. Percival McDore and Tessa O'Connell. Now, be mindful Harry; my personal history is not why I agreed to take the Veritaserum."

Harry gave a sorrowful nod as he clamped his mouth close, "Warren, is he dead?"

Collectively the portraits held their breath, "Yes." She stated forcing the word from her lungs, along with the next string. "I viewed his body today, his flesh was burnt from his legs and arms while his face was still recognizable. I verified his body from the scar along his sternum from a childhood accident."

Harry held up his hand, not willing to listen to any more. "And did you have anything to do with the fire at his property?"  
She could feel the serum burn the back of her throat, "No," The rest of the sentence flowing much easier, "I was at Hogwarts last evening."  
He went to ask another question, but silence fell from his lips; she had cast a silencing charm upon him.

"I believe that answers your questions, Harry." With barely a wave, a smaller draught appeared and she upended that one; and Harry felt the spell holding him silent lift. "And I'll expect that my children's names shall be kept in confidence."

"I'm sorry I asked; I just…"

"Wanted to know who they were, and if you compared." Minerva gently answered, "And you do, my boy. Never question that."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva inwardly groaned as the gargoyle activated. It was just past eleven, and only a Professor or one of the ex-professors would be visiting her at this late hour. "You need to sleep, love."

"True," She responded while summoning her robe, "But I was not yet asleep, and due to the hour…" She slipped her feet into her slippers and tied her belt about her waist, "I doubt it is a social call," she finished as she strode into her living room. Weaving her hair into a plait down her back, she opened the door to the gargoyle and surprised the occupant, who was reaching for the handle, in turn surprised her. "Hermione?" She motioned for her to enter, noting the faint hint of firewhisky upon the air. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," She started to say, but stopped as she turned to meet Minerva. "Well, not really. How do you do it?"  
"Do what?" Minerva asked not understanding what Hermione was referring to.

"All day, this evening, with Harry…" Recognition flashed across milky features as she continued on, "The Ministry, and who knows how many others; keeping the truth from them and not feel, well…absolutely horrid about it?"

"I never said it was easy, Hermione." Minerva remarked, "And that I haven't and won't continue to lose sleep over my decisions, but it was a decision I consciously made and now have to live with the consequences, no matter how unpleasant."

"I just lied to my best friend!" Hermione screeched out, no longer able to hold it in. "My best friend! Do you know how that feels? How much it hurts?"

"Yes." Minerva quietly answered, "I do." A strangely tender expression washing over her face, "And I wish I could say I didn't and that it would end alright; but I cannot."

Hermione hadn't known what she had expected when her fury propelled her to Minerva's quarters, but heartbroken honesty hadn't been it. She fought back the tears, "You lied to Helena?"

Minerva nodded, motioning to the chesterfield; "Yes." She stopped by her curio cabinet, easily pouring herself and Hermione a deep glass of whisky, "For years." She harrowingly spoke, knowing full well she was tapping along a powder keg of sorts as the truth she had knowingly kept from Helena for over a decade, she had not divulged to Hermione. And there would undoubtedly be questions. Questions she _would _not answer. Couldn't…because even though she viewed Hermione as a friend, she had a job to do with the younger witch, and if Hermione were to find out her predicament and the severity of it – Hermione would not help her or try, foolishly, to go it alone. And, either way was not an option.

"And…" Hermione took the offered item, her cheek still glistening from where she wiped the tears away, "Did she ever trust you again?"

"I believe so." Minerva slipped her foot from her slipper, tucking it beneath her as she sat down and pulled her robe over her lap. "I never asked."

"But…she's your best friend and if you are willing to lie to her; how can _I_ trust you?"  
"I never said I wouldn't lie, Hermione." Minerva twirled the tumbler ensconced in her fingers. "I've been lying my whole life about who I am and who my family is."

"But you've been protecting your family by hiding the truth…"

"And once again, we return back to what I spoke about months ago – perception, dear."

Hermione eyed the amber liquid for several long minutes, even after she took a hearty sip before finally breaking the silence. "And when this is all over, what are you going to tell the Ministry? Arthur? Harry? Regarding Warren and his family suddenly reappearing?"

"I…" She curtailed the truth that it was well beyond her problem to contend with, opting for a far more palatable one. "Haven't decided how to broach that problem, and will seek a solution once Johannes has been captured."

"Just like that." Hermione met Minerva's gaze with her own. "You flip a switch?"

"No," Minerva countered, "However, amidst a crisis I often find it beneficial not to worry about the clean-up while still dealing with the matter at hand."

"He…" She felt like an eel for not having told Harry the truth earlier. She had let him sit there…spilling his guts, tears in his eyes at how he failed Minerva and her family, "Feels responsible."

"I'll speak with him this week."

Hermione shook her head, "He won't say anything to you," Her voice cracked as she relayed a long harbored truth. "You are like a…mother to him."

"I know, dear." Minerva gently whispered, "And he is like a son to me, but that doesn't negate that he, along with Percival and Tessa, knows very little of my life and all that I do. Nor do they need to."

"He would understand and keep…"

"The only persons who know that Warren is alive beside himself are within this room. Even Helena is wise enough not to ask for specifics. Because she knows and has painfully learned that the more people who do know, even well meaning and caring people, the greater the likelihood that the secret will slip – somewhere. And as much as you trust Harry, I cannot." She leaned forward, the intensity of her gaze easily capturing brown eyes. "And if my situation were different, you would not be in the position you are in now. Know that I am mindful of the strain it is placing on your friendship – and I am _very _sorry for it, but very thankful you opted not to divulge what truly took place last eve."

"I just wish I hadn't had to lie to him." She said shoulders sinking.

Minerva felt something in her soul twist at seeing how distraught Hermione was, "In the future," Minerva paused to ensure that she did have her attention, "I will ensure that my actions and the repercussions from my actions will not cause you to have to lie to Harry."

"Minerva you don't know…what the future will bring and what you will need to do to protect not only Hogwarts, but who knows who else."

Minerva raised her glass outward, "I don't know Hermione, but I can consciously choose to find other alternatives."

Hermione eyed the tumbler, "Don't make that commitment, it will limit your arsenal and I don't want to be responsible for someone's death because I find it difficult to lie to my best friend."

"And you should never have to lie to him, and I'm sorry you did." She tipped her glass, "It won't happen again."

Hermione lifted her glass, the scant amount of amber liquid sloshing against the side. "And what about to me?" She asked as a distinct clink echoed between them. "How many times have you lied to me?"

Had Minerva been taking a sip, she surely would have choked outright. "Hermione…"

"If you lied to your best friend, about goodness knows what; why wouldn't you lie to me?" She chuckled as she finished the last of her glass, "It's not like I can give you Veritaserum to find out," She shook her head, "Which by the way, how did you beat that?" She stood and walked toward the curio cabinet, "Do you mind?" She opened the door and uncapped the decanter, pouring herself another hefty drink. "Harry told me that you took a dram of the serum; told him of your children which – by the way – he wouldn't tell me who they were, before asking you about Warren and the fire." She paused beside the sofa, peering down at Minerva, "Which you somehow managed to lie about. Veritaserum." She shook her head, "I don't know how you did it. I mean, there is no countering agent. I would have heard…" She paused in the middle of her diatribe, "You worked in the Department of Mysteries. There is something, an antidote or…" She forced her alcohol riddled mind to overcome the numbing effects – maybe she had one too many glasses with Harry before coming up here. "A viral potion that counters the effects. And you've had it. Unless you took the anti-serum before he showed up, but…that doesn't track because you wouldn't know he was going to give it to you."

Minerva set her glass on the coffee table, and reached over taking the one from Hermione's grasp. "I think you've had enough." She set it next to her own, "And," She pulled the younger witch up. "As for my lying to you," She met her gaze, "There are times I ask that you not delve into my personal affairs, and that is so I don't have to."

Hermione took a step back, "I'm not _that _drunk, and you didn't answer my question." Brown eyes burning with their earlier intensity. "Have you lied to me?"

Minerva was damned, either way. "Yes." She whispered, "I have."

"About a mission, Hogwarts, Harkiss…"

"Myself." Minerva gently interjected.

Hermione could no longer stop the threatening tears from swimming across her eyes and pooling along her bottom eye lid, "Regarding, what? Your health? I already know that your magic grows weaker, what else?"

"Let it be, Hermione." Came the tender response.

"Why won't you tell me?" The harrowing question creating a chasm in the scant space between them.

"The same reason I wouldn't tell Helena," She whispered, "And can only hope that one day, you will understand. Now," Her jaw rippled as she willed her emotions to remain at bay, "If you'd be so kind and see yourself out, I was readying for bed."

The end of Minerva's sentence felt as if ice water had been poured over her head, and she knew she had pushed too far. Her own emotions having gotten the better of her, and she should have put a pin in it; and not have come up here. "Minerva, I'm sorry. My words were…ill spoken and…"

Minerva paused by her door, having already taken a handful of steps, "We all have something to apologize for Hermione, and I will…have far more than most. However, after the time we have spent together, I had hoped to have gained your trust and that perchance, you'd be able to forgive me for not relaying the whole of my plight. And understand that I have my reasons for keeping secrets, even if it means that I have had to and continue to lie to those I care about." Hollow green eyes finally met brown ones, "I see now that I was wrong."

"Minerva…"

"Elgin," Minerva called out, striding through her doorway. "Take Hermione to her rooms."

"I just wish you felt comfortable enough to tell me." Elgin immediately appeared a sorrowful look upon his face as he went to snap his fingers, "Don't." She whispered, "Please, don't do as she says."

"I is sorry, Miss Hermione's but she is the Mistress."

Hermione went to step around Elgin but found herself bumping into her desk in her study. "Damn."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"You are far too tired." Albus interjected, "And are in need of sleep."

"I concur." Severus drawled, "It is just after midnight and to enter the Heart at this hour is ludicrous. Even for you."

Dilys nodded, "Minerva, you look exhausted. Why not try a cup of warm milk?"

"While I value each of your council, I should have done this weeks ago." She opened the chamber door.

"Minerva, your magic…"

"Is holding, and if I don't do this soon, we'll never know why Hermione has a reaction to Hogwarts, Albus."

Blue eyes leveled at her over his half moon frames, "And is that the sole reason for your sudden interest in knowing or are you beginning to believe that Hogwarts may be trying to bind the two of you together?"

Even Severus' mouth slackened at his question. They rarely if ever talked about their personal lives, marriage, even their bond while in the office. "Jealousy does not become you, my dear. There is neither cause nor reason. As for reasons, my animagus curiosity should be ample. And, I still do not believe Hogwarts is trying to bind Hermione and I. The draw I feel towards her is my based on my growing need to find a mate as mine…" She met his gaze with a heartfelt one of her own, "Is unavailable and has been for some time."

"Minerva…"

"Decades ago, we bound ourselves to Hogwarts to heal the foundational wards, Albus. And I will not see all the years we have poured into aligning the latticework and warding structure be for naught because a bit of fatigue. Now, let me see where, how, and if Hermione is connected to Hogwarts and we shall move forward from there."

"Does Hermione know or believe there is a connection with Hogwarts or you?" Godric asked, drawing a flurry of looks in his direction.

"I do not believe so. However, on two separate occasions, Hermione has experienced adverse effects when my or Hogwarts' magic have had a tremendous pull upon them."

"It begins in her right hand." Godric's voice negating the soft rumble before the portraits comments were given form.

Minerva stepped back to enable her to fully gaze up at the Founder's portrait. "When did you see this?"

"If what you say is true, the night you realigned the wards."

"Please let me know if there are any adverse affects from this evening."

He tilted his head and Minerva let her gaze drop for a moment before turning to her husband, "I shall see you soon."

"And I you." He whispered.

Minerva strode forward, her voice echoing from the tunnel to answer the overriding question. "Three hours."

At once, all eyes flickered to the clock to note the time beginning the countdown; Godric let his hand momentarily trail along Rowena's cheek and he left the Headmistress' office.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Vaguely, Minerva could feel the sweat roll down her neck, her back, and the way her lower back had gone numb. But she retained her focus.

Earlier, she had skimmed her consciousness across the wards, the latticework, the building, the grounds, and for the first time in more years than she could count the whole of Hogwarts remained sound.

And so she delved deeper. Into the very construct, the magic…and at first it seemed to be a cacophony of light and sound pulsing with her every breath.

Seconds blended into minutes, breaths into a singular breath and she could see and feel thousands of connections from both this world and the next.

There was the very life force of each wizard, witch, headmaster and deputy that had given their life's blood; along with hundreds of house elves, centaurs, unicorns, mermaids, dragons, griffins, phoenixes, sphinxes, chimeras, basilisks, and countless other creatures.

She could see, or rather, feel her connection; it was bold and yet transparent. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the strand and the handful of other bold ones; _that must signify they are alive, _she thought searching for one that could possibly be Hermione. She was easily able to discern Filius, Tenien, and the house elves along with a handful of leaders among magical creatures. Her eyes skimmed across the connections, straining to find the one she sought…and it wasn't until a breeze seemed to blow across the strands that she saw one, rippling as if a shadow, behind her own connection. As she watched the faint light, it seemed to mirror her strand's movement. And she knew it to be that which she sought confirmation on, and found.

Unlike her or the others, only it seemed - tethered.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out trying to ascertain how _connected_ she was to Hogwarts but felt a wall meet her hand and a body stride forward, appearing androgynous in nature…light stemming from its very skin as its head tipped to the side and peered at its visitor.

_'You are she that joins him; between this world and the next.'_

_ 'Who are you?' Minerva questioned, narrowing her eyes against the light._

_ 'I am...' A long pause fell between them as the figure sought an answer, 'What you call Hogwarts.'_

* * *

oxox

* * *

_A/N: Please accept this chapter by way of apology for not having made the time to respond to all of your lovely notes. I am sorry, and will endeavor to be better. As always, I do hope you enjoyed and found this mildly entertaining. Look for an update in 2 weeks, and perchance next week, who knows - it could happen.  
_


	63. Chapter 60 December 17th, 2009

**Chapter 60 ~ December 17****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

"What do you mean, _met Hogwarts_?" Albus asked, disbelieving.

Minerva tiredly chewed another bite of the cranberry scone, her hunger just barely beating out her fatigue. She had dragged herself up from the heart less than fifteen minutes ago and desperately needed to eat something before falling asleep. "Think of it has the embodiment or essence of Hogwarts."

"It isn't alive."

"The person I spoke with last evening most assuredly was," she retorted between bites.

"What did _he _say?"

"I don't recall the exact words, Albus. Only that it exists, and was willing to explain what is going on with Hermione and her connection – as it were."

"And…what did Hogwarts say?"

Minerva took a sip of her tea, before delving into the territory that had irrevocably altered their lives. "I was able to see what happened the night you died. It seems that…while Hogwarts was sealing our bond and keeping me alive, its magic was coursing through me when Hermione touched me."

"You became the conduit."

Minerva nodded, "Leaving a light tether between her and Hogwarts."

"Can it be severed?"

"It will be," her voice caught, "when I join you."

"Then you are still the conduit?"

"Yes."

Blue and green eyes bored into the other, "The more you draw upon Hogwarts and the weaker you become…the greater the likelihood she'll be affected."

"I am aware." She carefully stated, bracing herself for the next part of the conversation that she truly did not want to have, especially this evening when she was well beyond exhausted. While he would know she was speaking the truth, it would not help to take the sting from either of their words – or the topic that _had _to be discussed, again.

"And from what Hogwarts stated or implied, do you believe this is why you are physically drawn to her?"

She could feel her back marginally straighten as she folded her fingers in her lap. "No. One is not predicated upon the other."

A dubious expression passed across his face and she could feel his doubt pulse through her, "It does seem rather coincidental that she is tethered to Hogwarts and you are attracted to her."  
"She has been tethered since your death; it is not something that transpired four months ago when my flashes began again. I'd say that is far from coincidental."

"And your attraction?"

Minerva's lips drew into a thin line, "Do tell me you jest, Albus."

Albus met his wife's startling clear emerald gaze, "I find it difficult to believe that her connection to Hogwarts through you does not have an impact or even make you…predisposed to her."

"Did it ever dawn upon your wonderfully startling intellect that a part of me is drawn to her because she is incredibly intelligent and I can carry on a more than a two dimensional conversation with her? Or that she is beautiful no matter the time of day? That there is a spark beneath the surface tha – …Merlin forbid – is as enticing to me as the twinkle that lies within your eyes. I have no doubt all those factors plus countless others are why I am attracted to her. What I am sure about is that her tether to Hogwarts is not the source of the attraction."

"And when you are not having your flashes; are you attracted to her?"

"I cannot help that I am physically aroused during my flashes by the mere scent of her skin; nor can I help that while I crave your touch, during that time, hers holds an equal appeal."

"You didn't answer my question." The gravity of his question was not lost upon either of them.

"While appealing and a beautiful woman, she is a friend." Her tone was devoid of emotion. "And only a friend. Nothing more, my dear."

"Minerva…"

"This is difficult enough," she said, sighing and peeling her glasses off to gaze openly at her husband, "that I am even attracted to another intermittently through the month, Albus. Do not compound our situation and brood or become jealous."

"I am sorry, love." he tenderly replied, "I do miss you and wish that I could care for your needs as I once did."

"As do I." she banished the remnants of her scone, "However, I need you to remember that I _love_ you."

Gravelly he nodded, "I know. But, I sense that you are beginning to love _her_ as well."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione glowered back at the gargoyle. "It is a good thing she likes you."

"And for you too." It quipped back before settling into its usually placid face, further igniting Hermione's frustration.

Minerva had been unequivocally unattainable before breakfast – she had not come to the Great Hall – and now after. She'd have to try back this afternoon when there was a moment's respite before lunch. If she failed then, she'd speak with Filius.

_How could she have been….so asinine last evening?_

Quelling the pervasive sinking feeling in her stomach, she turned and headed to her classroom. She had to deal with three classes this morning before she even had an opportunity to contemplate how she was going to rectify her actions from last eve.

Stepping into her class, she heard the soft foot falls of one of her students enter the room. Squaring her shoulders and plastering a gentle smile on her face, she turned…her braid falling over her shoulder as she met Samantha Meaur's inquisitive eyes.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena paused, hand on the door. "And she hasn't awoken since going to sleep last evening?"

Elgin shook his head, "No's, but she's did not goes to bed until just after fours this morning."

"That's moderately better news," Helena muttered as she pushed the door ajar. Her eyes cast across the room, the portrait empty. She glanced back to Elgin, "Where's Albus?"

"Asleep downstairs." Elgin whispered following her into the Mistress' rooms.

With decades of practice, Helena cast a diagnostic spell upon her friend and felt a measure of relief swell in her breast. "She is merely asleep."

"You'se is sure?" He cast a worried glance towards the Mistress, "She'se never misses breakfast."

Helena nodded, "Yes, now…speaking of breakfast." She headed into the living room.

"No." George stated while levitating a column of his goods to the opposite side of the store, "It is none of your concern."

"But it is," Percy crossed his arms, "I'm your brother. You have to tell me who she is."

"Not happening." George motioned for another shelf to be erected, "So let it drop."

Percy sighed heavily. "Why are you hiding her?"

"Don't you have work to do? Or do I now pay you to hold the latest product line?"

"Well, whomever she is, she'll be flying solo tomorrow." Percy strode towards the front of the store. "And perhaps with enough alcohol you'll forget to hold your tongue and tell the lot of us who you've been shagging." Percy finished leaving a bewildered George in his wake.

_Drinks with Percy, tomorrow? _He finished with what he was doing before ducking into his office and scanning the calendar. He had been here so little of late, he quickly flipped the pages forward and felt his shoulders sink. Tomorrow was the 18th.

_SF B party - 7_

Seamus' birthday party was tomorrow. He'd have to cancel his plans with Rory, "Damn." He muttered aloud. He had been looking forward to a quiet evening, in.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"You are leaving?" Gawain questioned as he jogged to keep up with his long time colleague.

"Wanted to surprise Helena and have the holiday decorations put up before she arrived home this evening." He shrugged. "And haven't been able to find the time with everything else going on of late."  
"I do understand," Gawain placed a hand on Harold's elbow, causing Harold to actually turn and meet his gaze. "I haven't been able to find Shacklebolt." He murmured. "He's gone off the grid."

"Not surprising." Blue eyes quickly scanned across the atrium, "But we'll look into it too."

Gawain nodded, "And did you have time to investigate the scene?"

Harold gave a singular shake of his head, he did so hate transfiguration; because there were a handful of things that he nor anyone from his department couldn't ever be sure of. However, he couldn't divulge that, even to Gawain. "Your team was correct; they died of natural causes."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The quiet sanctity of her office was disrupted as the flames morphed green and a voice echoed through.

"Minerva, do you have a few moments?" Griphook's uncanny baritone questioned.

"Of course." She replied as she signed her name, and could tell from her peripheral vision that he had already stepped through. "And how are you this evening?"

"Rather well." He waited a moment until she finished sealing her letter, "Yourself?"  
"Much improved since we last spoke." She stood and stepped from behind her desk as she removed her glasses, "Would you care for a nip of whisky or must you return to Gringotts?" She gestured to the chairs and sofa.

"I have a meeting elsewhere this evening."

His non-reply caused Minerva's lips to pull into a faint smile, "Please do tell the council I bid them well."

"I sometimes forget how much you know of our ways."

"And I, how little passes your notice."

Griphook's black eyes twinkled in response, before his long fingers slipped into charcoal vest and withdrew a folded parchment sealed with his emblem. "Your final accounting." He handed the paper over, "And contents."

She let her eyes remain on the paper for a moment, debating on what she should and should not tell him. And a gentle sigh fell from her lips as she easily came to a decision; it was time that he knew. She needed to begin putting her financial affairs in order, because, for better or worse, it was no longer if but when she would be dying. "I shall be sending you some details regarding my accounts and how I would like them to be collapsed, along with future dispersal."

"Future dispersal." Black eyes narrowed, "Minerva, are you saying what I think you are?"

"Yes."

"And you are sure of this?"

"Quite." Minerva relayed, "Helena has been treating me for years; but at this juncture it is even beyond her skill."

Stillness once again enveloped her office as Griphook absorbed her quiet words, and the repercussions. "It seems…" He found himself blinking back the unfathomable, tears. He cleared his throat, unwilling to let himself be disturbed by her words and at the notion that a human, even the one before him, was dying. "Then an accounting was a prudent move, and I wager the future dispersal would be a final one." However, despite his desire to remain impartial, he could feel a tear slip unceremoniously down his cheek.

"It would be."

"And…" He could no longer maintain the stoic Goblin facade of indifference, his voice giving way to emotion as he pulled out the secondary reason for his visit this evening. "These?" He felt a second tear follow the path of the first as he handed her the treasured objects.

Minerva gently took the worn cloth, fingers peeling the material away to reveal to phoenix feathered quills; their plum feathers sparkling defiantly against the twilight. "You were able to get them." She breathed twirling them within her hand.

"He owed me a favor." Griphook discreetly wiped the tear trail away with the back of his hand. "And your compensation assisted greatly."

"They are…" She narrowed her eyes as she held one up in to the light, the other remaining upon her lap, "Magnificent." She twirled it in her fingers, "Feather light, balanced, and with its hollow tip –"

"It'll write for a half sheave."

Minerva placed both quills upon the coffee table, "Thank you, my friend." She leaned over and gave him a tender hug. "It is most appreciated."

"From our conversation this evening, I daresay you will not be the sole recipient."

"No," Minerva said, "They are both for gifts." Her eyes sparkled at his speechlessness; it was a rarity to be sure. "I cannot take my considerable assets with me, and there are a few friends whom I cherish and would like express it before I am not here nor able to."

"You are truly a rare person Minerva McGonagall; one that I am honored to call - friend."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione tried to hide her disappointment at seeing Filius as she entered the Room of Requirement, the door silently closing behind her.

"Minerva is handling some private matters this evening and asked me to step in for her." Filius remarked, hoping to ease the younger woman's obvious disappointment.

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Filius. I had just been hoping to see Minerva this evening to apologize for a remark I made yesterday."

Filius merely quirked his brow in response. "Well, I'm sure it has since been forgotten." He moved to the center of the room, Hermione following beside him. "Especially given Minerva's schedule of late."

"I can hope, as I tried several times to see her today." Hermione took the necessary paces away from Filius.

Filius hadn't given it thought as he so rarely used the gargoyle by way of entrance to Minerva's rooms that she had changed her password. She had made mention that she had suspended access – he momentarily recalled her tired countenance and equally fatigued cadence as she cited the need for a few hours respite from Hogwarts and all the well meaning professors who wished more than a few moments of her time to express their condolences. "I do not know if she was here for most of the day." He casually replied while raising his wand.

Initially, she had pondered why Minerva had chosen Filius as her Deputy; but after spending the past few months in their daily collective presence and especially here, now – she understood. Solidarity. She knew damn well that Minerva was at Hogwarts for the whole of the day; and from his response, she'd bet that he did too. However, he was too crafty to say that Minerva had been here and was choosing not to be available. "For some reason," she raised her own wand, "I find that exceptionally hard to believe."

"Then I propose an incentive for this evening's duel. Best of three." At seeing he had her undivided attention, he proceeded. "Winners discretion, within reason or feasibility."

"And if you were to win, what would yours be?"

"Come come Hermione." His eyes glinted golden, "It could merely be an answer to a question or a two week reprieve from essays. Either way, you'll know shortly. That is, of course, if you accept."  
_A question._ Rang through her mind, and she did indeed have a question, several to be precise, that he could answer that she wished to know. "I accept." She said, bowing; her mind already on _which _question she would ask him about Minerva.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione blinked into the milky fog, staring aimlessly upwards; petrified. She had been laying there for several minutes as her breathing returned to normal; mind recalling the duel and where she had made the mistake, again.

She had believed she'd be able to take him, had already decided on which question or questions she would ask. The inner passageways and how to access them. But, she hadn't won. The first duel hadn't even been close; it had lasted perhaps a minute, maybe slightly more if she was being exceedingly generous. However, the second one had lasted remarkably longer.

"I must say, Hermione," Filius finally leaned over her, sweat covering his features, matting his hair to his forehead. "It has been quite some time since I have had that engaging of a duel." His brow knit. "And it does cause me to wonder what your winnings would have entailed." He remained motionless, gazing into her eyes with his golden hued ones, "However, I believe if you continue to duel as you did this evening, there may come a point in the near future you shall obtain that which you seek." He waved his hand and took a step back, "As for my winnings, I merely wish to ask you a question."

Hermione sat up, wiping her face with the inside of her robe, "Go ahead."

"How do you take the king?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, not believing she had heard the question correctly.

"The king, how do you take it whilst playing chess?"

"The easiest way is capturing the queen." Hermione immediately replied.

Filius shook his head, "With patience, Hermione." He patted her shoulder, "Remember that." He stated while walking past.

"After winning," she whipped her head around to follow him, "That was your question."

"As well as running a detention for me tomorrow evening." He paused, glancing back. "Yes, that is more than ample." His smile crept upon his face. "And the new password to the Headmistress' office should be waiting for you in your rooms; but if not, try _gingerbread holidays_."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva didn't glance up as the door opened, she didn't have to. Albus' sudden mood shift told her all she needed to know. Hermione had stopped by. "Good evening, Hermione." She finished her sentence before setting her quill upon the blotter and glancing upwards.

"I'm sorry about last evening." Hermione stepped forward, "I shouldn't have come here after Harry left, I was just so…"

"Lost." Minerva answered the open ended comment.

"Yes." Hermione whispered, "But after the day you had had, I should have dealt with my problems and feelings without taking it out on you of all people."

"Hurt, anger, and pain all do cause one thing, dear." She said standing and moving around her desk, momentarily pausing to met her husband's gaze. She could feel his desire to say something, his worry, the flair of jealousy mixed with love. An unspoken agreement passed between them after this morning's raw and heartfelt conversation; and she continued walking forward toward Hermione, as her husband vacated his portrait to take up residence at the Ridge.

Hermione's head fell away, unable to meet Minerva's approaching gaze. "What?" She whispered, tears prickling her eyes. "Verbal scarring?"

No answer immediately came, however, she could feel Minerva's presence and from the hint of lavender knew she was indeed close.

"No." She softly replied, reaching out. Her fingers delicately touching the edge of Hermione's jaw and chin, gently guiding the younger woman's gaze to her until brown finally lifted and met green. "A heightened emotional state often leads to stating a normally staunchly buried truth." She finished voice barely a whisper as her fingers fell from the smooth flesh.

"With everything else going on, I should have withheld my remarks."

"I'm glad you didn't." She reached out grabbing Hermione's arm and squeezing it for a moment before walking past her. "Or I'd never have known how you felt."

"Minerva…" Hermione reached out ensnaring the crook of Minerva's elbow, "Please, let me apologize."

Green eyes snapped to the fingers wrapped around her arm and then up to pleading eyes. "You already have, dear. Now," her gaze dropped to Hermione's hand, "If you will excuse me," Hermione let go of Minerva's arm, "I was going to suggest a game of chess if you are feeling up to it?"

"Yes," Hermione said, "I just don't want what I said to hurt our friendship."

Minerva wandlessly opened the chess set and the pieces miraculously aligned themselves where they needed to go. "I believe it is I, not you, who will ultimately hurt our friendship." Hermione's gaze fixed upon her as she finished, "because there are a handful of items that I cannot share with you, Hermione."

Hermione took stock of her response before speaking aloud, not wanting to further drive Minerva away. "I'm sure you have your reasons."  
"I do." Minerva succinctly answered, but opted to proceed ahead. If they did not talk about this, it would fester. "However, know that it has nothing to do with trust."

"Then why won't you or believe you cannot share whatever truth you are hiding?"

"Consequences." Minerva obliquely replied.

"Minerva…"

"Please," Minerva held up her hand, "Hermione, let it go."

"Don't lie." Hermione responded leaning forward and quickly speaking before Minerva could interject. "Tell me it's personal, off limits, whatever phrase you want…and I won't ask further."

Minerva remained motionless, contemplating.

Hermione rambled on, "I just…well, you're my friend. And after everything we have been through the last several months, there is no reason that you should feel the need or have the necessity to lie to me. I know there are things in your life that you choose to keep personal, and while I am curious, I respect your decision and…"

"If I say it is personal," Minerva warily began, "you will let it drop? No questions asked?"

Hermione clamped her mouth closed and nodded. "Yes." But felt compelled to add on what she knew to be the truth, "But I can't guarantee I won't ask again."

* * *

oxox

* * *

A tone of uneasiness laced the first half hour of the game as they settled into their respective seats; quiet commands fluttering across the air to guide their respective legions. Minerva's black army appearing as a wedge about to crack another angle of Hermione's scattered regiment.

But with the passage of time and the heightened intensity of the game, remarks and accolades began, morphing into an intermittent flow of dialogue until the last of the unease ebbed away, leaving a steady stream of banter and gentle conversation.

They spoke of the latest research posed by Scott and Brackett regarding the ability to transfigure energy. Hermione stoutly believed it to be possible, Minerva, the opposite; their game was momentarily forgotten as they debated the point. They mutually conceded after a half hour interlude, both understanding the others point; albeit not enough to alter their personal opinions.

The game ended with two of Minerva's pawns and a bishop cornering Hermione's king; most of their respective royalty resting in the other person's hands.

"Well played." Minerva said as she leaned back into the cushions, relieving the pressure upon her lower back.

"Congratulations." Hermione stated as she tipped her king over, "I did think I had you four turns back."

"You would have," Minerva agreed, "If your rook had been at D4."

Hermione absently tucked a wispy strand of hair behind her ear, "So close on two separate occasions today and yet so far."

Minerva narrowed her brows in thought, "Two?"

"With Filius and now you." Hermione clarified.

"He is an expert duelist, Hermione."  
"So I've noticed," She rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned her head on her hand, "How do you beat him?"

"With a great deal of ingenuity. His proficiency in charms and defense make him a difficult opponent; what charm did he use this evening that caught you unawares?"  
"Fog." Hermione relayed, "One minute he was there, the next the world turned milky and he along with the whole of my vision was gone. And you, in that instance, how would you have combated that spell?"  
"The last time I tried that on her," Both Hermione and Minerva turned to the stairs to see Filius walking down them, "My skin was burnt for the better part of two days. I had not foreseen someone having the ability to transfigure the fog into steam." He rounded the brass banister, "Good evening, Minerva, Hermione."

"Fog into steam?" Hermione turned to Minerva, "How is that possible?"

"That is something I still wish to know." Filius remarked as he drew closer, eying the Headmistress upon the gold cushioned sofa. She looked a bit more rested than earlier, but still quite fatigued.

"It had nothing to do with transfiguration, rather your field of expertise. I charmed the air to rapidly heat."

"I thought when you dueled, you left safeguards in place so as not to injure the other duelist?" Hermione questioned both Minerva and Filius.

"There are spells that we won't cast, but no safeguards are in place. When we have dueled of late, it is to keep the other's skill honed; we try to minimize injuries but they do happen."

"When you next duel, I'd love to watch."  
Filius didn't miss a beat. "Due to recent happenings, we haven't had the need."

"Or the energy." Minerva followed up.

Filius nodded turning to Minerva, "Quite true." His eyes slid over the remnants of the game, the location of the remaining pieces. "You were lucky she didn't corner you with her rook." He smiled, "However," He turned to Hermione, "I must ask your indulgence for a moment, I have need to speak with Minerva."

"Please, go ahead." She stood, "I need to finish my fifth year essays."

Minerva fought the sudden urge to stand as well, wanting to prolong their conversation; but knowing that she couldn't. She had plans this evening. "Thank you for the game."

"No, thank you." Hermione stated meeting green eyes for a moment before glancing to Filius and giving him a nod as she stated, "Filius." Her eyes caught Minerva's again, "Minerva. Good night."

Hermione gently closed the door behind her, feeling oddly relaxed. Her mind was upon the game and their momentary lapse as they countered each other's view regarding Scott and Brackett's theory. She idly rounded the third floor staircase beginning to ascend the fourth floor when she felt a tingle prickle across the hairs of her skin. Glancing both up and down the stairs, and seeing nothing; she shook it off as the northerly draft that oft times seemed to seep through the castle.

However, no sooner had her feet touched the fourth floor landing when a rush of magic overtook her senses, blanketing her skin. There was no sudden need or desire to reach for her wand, she was not in danger. Quite the opposite. She'd know that magical signature, anywhere. How could she not? She had stood next to her countless times, had her magic sweep over her before they apparated. And while it wasn't entirely Minerva's magic, the vast majority was as it spun through the castle, the walls practically glowing for a heartbeat – leaving behind wreathes and garlands of pine; sprigs of holly and berries; lush velvet ribbon of gold, red, and silver.

As a student, she had often wondered how the castle was able to be decorated in the span of one evening while everyone was asleep. She had attributed it to the house elves, surely one of their many jobs that went unrecognized.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

It hadn't been the house elves at all. It was the Head of Hogwarts responsibility to transform the majestic castle, and as Filius had been there too; perhaps it was both the Head of Hogwarts and the Deputy.

Hermione openly gazed about the walls, stairs, even the tapestries all now housed a hint of green, red, gold or silver when only a moment ago, it had merely been Hogwarts.

Her eyes lifted upwards, the large columns of stairs sporting long velvet ribbons adorned with beautiful pine wreathes; and if she was not mistaken, far above, a sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling.

Hermione felt a carefree smile split her face as she spun around, enjoying the residual feeling of warmth that had spread across her skin, the walls…the whole of the castle.

The holidays had arrived at Hogwarts.

* * *

Oxox

_A/N: Another snippet/step closer. As always hope you enjoyed._


	64. Chapter 61 December 19th, 2009

**Chapter 61 ~ December 19****th****, 2009 (Saturday)**

"You are sure?" Gustav asked as he slid the three parcels across the worn surface. "Two cloaks in her size without wizarding seams? And two in…" He held his arm out, head pulled back, enabling him to read his scrawl. "Derrick's dimensions minus four inches off the shoulders with magical seams?"

"Quite." Bonnie replied as she took the bill. "She is slowly updating her muggle attire as it has been some time; as for the alternate cloaks, they are for a friend whose height and build are similar but not as broad."

"I don't see why she would feel the need for muggle style clothing as the cloak appears almost identical to her traditional one."

Bonnie forced a smile to the elder wizard, "Nor do I. I am merely collecting her order."

"If she desires to have the seam lines re-adjusted, please relay that I will do so without a charge."

"Of course." She shrunk the packages. "However, I do not believe Lady McGonagall will be returning these."

"Either way, do give her my best."

Bonnie set a plaid satchel filled with coin upon the counter. "She wishes you a Happy Christmas."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Tom embraced Minerva and whispered, "I am very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she whispered back, pulling away. "It has been a difficult week and especially given the time of year." Minerva stepped back, "And you? How is Margaret? Are the children coming home for Christmas?"

"We've been busy preparing for the Holidays. Margaret and I will be decorating the tree tomorrow; Phillip and Krantz are both arriving the day after next."

"Oh, how lovely." It had been several years since she had the pleasure of seeing Tom's sons. "It sounds as though it'll be a festive holiday."

"Very much. And," he pulled out a thin ten centimeter package from within his vest, "here." He handed it to Minerva. "Happy Christmas."

Frowning slightly, she took the parcel and opened the box top, tears and a smile immediately adorning her face.

"I hope you don't mind." Tom felt his words falter at seeing how happy she was. "I went ahead and developed a label for your private line."

"This is perfect." She leant in and gave him a full hug. "Thank you."

He hugged her back. "You are more than welcome." She kissed his cheek as she stepped away. "It is already upon the bottles that are being delivered to the Manor this evening."

Her finger lightly traced the embossed engraving, "I am…" She glanced up again, lost for words. "Thank you, Tom."

Their moment was interrupted by a knock. "Tom I …oh, Lady McGonagall, sorry, I didn't know…" The voice dying away as the younger gentleman's eyes landed upon Lady McGonagall and the pearly streak that now graced her ebony hair.

Minerva ignored the shocked gaze riveted upon her hair, "I was just leaving." She feigned a smile, her comment startling both Tom and the younger gentleman.

"Please, dunno take offense," The younger man sputtered, "I did na mean…"

"I do not," She glanced to Tom who mouthed the young man's name, "Trevor."

"Then you are not staying for the party? It tis getting ready to begin."

"I'm afraid I cannot. Trevor, if you could please give us a moment," She turned to Tom, waiting a minute until the younger man stepped away from the door and gave them a moment of privacy. "I have another engagement in addition to the Ministry ball that requires my attention this evening. If you could make my apologies, and give…" She pulled a small satchel from her robes and with a wave, it enlarged. "These to each employee, I would be most grateful."

Tom took the velvet satchel, glancing within to see cream-colored envelopes with her distinct writing upon each one. "Of course."

"And this…" She withdrew a thin box wrapped in emerald paper with silver ribbons. "is for you."

"Minerva…" He took the package. "I didn't truly get you anything for Christmas…"

"Quite the contrary, Tom," she said as he pulled the ribbon off. "You helped to make Christmas possible this year."

He opened the box and openly stared at the plum colored Phoenix quill.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"You look ravishing, love." George stated as he handed Hermione a glass of champagne and leaned in to give her a light peck on her cheek. "Ron is going to have difficulties tonight." He chuckled, "Hell, anyone who is single, married or otherwise will have difficulties not staring at you tonight."

"Then you approve?" She asked mockingly as she spun around, flute thoroughly ensconced within her fingers.

"Very much." George stated, noting the way the lightly sequined navy velvet dress dipped to the small of her back while the front held a slightly more modest line, only dipping part way between her breasts. Her hair had been straightened and fell softly upon her left shoulder, and she wore a deep pear shaped sapphire that hung low on her chest just above her breasts; and two smaller pear shaped sapphires adorned her ears.

"And you look quite handsome yourself." She reached out her hand and threaded it through his arm leaning into his warmth. "Smell good too."

He quirked his brow, "How long have you been here?"

She leaned back, a chuckle slipping off her lips. "I'm not drunk." Her eyes flashed to the glass she held up to him to prove her point. "And this is my first glass of champagne. I only arrived a few minutes before you, but that doesn't negate the fact that you still do smell good. What is that? Niest?"

"Something I picked up from a small boutique in Edinburgh." George said with a meaningful glance at Hermione.

"Recently?" Hermione asked hoping they were both talking about the same thing, or rather, person.

"Within the last month." He answered with a smile, before nodding ahead. "Ginny, Harry."

Hermione's smile involuntarily widened at seeing two of her best friends. Ginny was wearing a long ivory gown with dark green accents; Harry was wearing matching wizarding robes with dark green piping for accents. "You look lovely."

"So do you." Ginny said as they exchanged a hug and then turned to her older brother. "I'm surprised you came after how much you had to drink last evening."

Hermione turned to George, "What did I miss?"

"Seamus' birthday bash, Ron and Percy tried to get George drunk enough to spill who he's been seeing." Harry answered as he took two drinks from the passing server.

Hermione took one look at George and knew the outcome. "Didn't work."

George's lip pulled up into a wry grin. "Not even close."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory gently fastened the ruby choker, stepping back and gazing at his sister through her reflection. "You look absolutely stunning, Minerva."

"Are you sure you don't mind attending this year?" She asked, her fingers gently running across the long forgotten piece of jewelry that had once been a staple in her life.

"Only if I get a dance, love." He smiled at her as their eyes met.

She turned, long fingers adjusting the line of his tunic in conjunction with his belt. "Will George be there?"

"Yes." Rory answered, "And no, you needn't worry. He's fine with me meeting him later this evening. I told him I was attending with a very special friend; he took it to mean you...which is true to a point I suppose."

"And when he asks?"

"I'll tell him the truth." He let his gaze linger a moment more. "That you asked me months ago to be your escort for tonight's affair."

Bonnie stared at her Mistress and Master Rory; _they did make a nice couple_. "You both are rather enchanting this evening."

Rory smiled, "Thank you, Bonnie."

"Your cloaks." She handed Rory Minerva's first. He helped her slip on the satin black garment before donning his dress cloak.

"Ready?" He asked as he held out his hand for her.

She slipped it through his arm, and slowly they made their way through McGonagall Manor, her heels and his boots clicking in time with the other. The double doors opened, the pathway to the gates springing to life and a soft glow permeated across the snow.

Rory wandlessly opened the aged gate, and at the tilt of his head she easily strode through, pausing to wait for him. He turned and watched as the distinct lines of his sister morphed to become his escort. "Ms. McDore." He gallantly extended his hand, and with a muffled pop…they were gone.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

It had been close to three years since she had made a true public appearance as her alter persona, Katherine McDore. And even that one was nowhere near as public. It had been to assist with judging for a charity dance event for long term housing for parents of St. Mungo's children patients.

She appreciated the quiet arrival, to not have to engage with those she didn't wish to because she was…not required to, as she would be later this evening when she arrived as the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

They made their way to the entrance, stood along with many other dignitaries, waited to verify their respective invites and checked in their cloaks.

"Excuse me." Minerva and Rory both turned to see who was speaking to them, "Are you Katherine McDore?"

Green eyes sparkled at the humor of her dearest friend's joke. "Yes." She said, smile lighting up her face, "You both look lovely." She said from her heart as she leaned in to give Helena and then Harold a deep hug.

"Next." Came the Ministry official's call.

Minerva disengaged from Harold, "One moment." She said, pulling away and turning to Hector Bryce.

"May I see your invitation, please?"

Rory handed him their invite. "Rory Wallace and Katherine McDore."

Hector paused and glanced past Rory to the woman beside him, eyes blinking a few times before he dropped his eyes to the listing and made two checks. "Would you like to check any garments, cloaks, handbags?"

"My cloak." Rory handed him his black cloak. "Katherine?"

"Mine as well." She slipped hers off with elegant ease.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harry was sharing with them a recent story regarding a disturbance in Knockturn Alley when George felt his attention lapse, as his gaze became fixed upon the strong lines of his lover. He'd know Rory's build anywhere.

He was wearing a white linen tunic, kilt, sandals and the rest of his ceremonial garb; standing next to a woman whose build reminded him of McG save for the soft auburn tresses and black dress that he could never imagine her wearing. He narrowed his eyes, unconsciously taking a step forward, "No way."

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny all looked at George. "What?" Hermione turned to where George was looking.

"I think that's the wife of that dancing couple, standing next to Rory across the room."

Ginny immediately stepped forward, "No…" She began but stopped as the woman erupted into laughter, her auburn hair, build…and Ginny found herself nodding. "I think your right, George."

"Katherine." George said finally recalling the woman's name.

"Katherine?" Harry shook his head turning to Hermione. "Mean anything to you?"

"No." Hermione said, looking across the expanse and noting that whomever they were speaking of was standing comfortably close to Rory and openly engaging several other attendees, including Harold and Helena Harrison. _Probably a mutual friend of theirs and Minerva's, _she thought as she finished her sentence. "Unless that was who Neville was referencing. She and her husband used to dance competitively for years and were as fluid as silk before he was killed during an attack by Death Eaters."

"Mom and dad took us to see them twice." George commented. "They were every bit as good as Neville said, if not more so."

"I don't think she's danced competitively since her husband's death." She went to take a sip of her champagne but stopped, "His name was Brian."

"Yeah, it was. But I don't know if she has danced at all since then," He glanced across the room, "she was severely injured shortly before his death from an incident, I think she…"

"Shattered her hip." Molly finished as she joined the group. "Shame really, she's only performed once since then. It was your last year of Hogwarts, George; during the holidays. They called it a Christmas celebration; Arthur and I went and it was wonderful to watch, but the poor dear seemed to have difficulties doing some of the dips and extensions. And I believe Brian had some difficulties still with his hand during the performance, but…I think it was their way of showing the rest of the world to not give in to fear."

"They were friends with the Harrisons?" Hermione asked as a raucous cheer rose up from the growing cluster.

"Good friends actually." Molly tried to keep the longing from her voice, "Both families were quite the socialites throughout the years."

"That's surprising as I've never heard of them." Hermione mumbled to herself.

"Me either." Harry said with a shrug.

"Not surprising," Molly defended the woman, "since she hasn't competitively danced in over a decade and since Brian's passing rarely attends many events; however she remains charitable to various organizations."

George turned away, "As are we, mum."

"You are, dear. But, they and the Harrisons started the Auror assistance program and afterwards, the Harrisons have typically been benefactors for St. Mungo's and medical research while the McDores migrated towards the arts and children's assistance programs."

"Excuse me?" Both Hermione and Harry said in unison, causing them to look quickly to the other and at Harry's nod, Hermione posed the question in its entirety. "What did you say their last names were?"

"McDore, dear." Molly stated, "Katherine and Brian McDore."

As one, both Harry and Hermione turned to where Katherine was standing.

"What?" Ginny asked Harry, eyes also sliding to Hermione, "Did we miss?"

Hermione felt her face close down in an instant, "I just, realized that she may be Percival's mother."

"Really?" Molly questioned. "Don't know why I never thought of that. I will have to see if I can get him to introduce us. I would love to get her autograph."

"I'm going to get a firewhisky," Harry stated, "Anyone care for something other than champagne?"

"If you don't mind, a Dragon ale if they carry one." George clipped.

"Chardonney." Ginny handed him her empty glass.

"I was going to ask for a glass of merlot, but I'll join you and help carry."

"Fantastic." Harry said and without waiting for additional drink orders, both began heading towards the bar. "Brian as in Albus Percival Wulfric _Brian _Dumbledore."

"Or Katherine, from Minerva _Katherine_ McGonagall." Hermione whispered in reply.

"Its bloody brilliant if you think about it." Harry said, "Who would look for you if you are seemingly everywhere and nowhere?"

"Epitome of hidden in plain sight." Hermione stated.

"Drink polyjuice, become someone else, raise a family without the scrutiny." He paused several meters from the bar. "Sounds enticing."

"Not polyjuice," Hermione corrected wondering how often or easy it became for Minerva to alter her appearance into that of Katherine. "But otherwise, yes. There are a few logistics, though, that don't mix."

"Her hip and his hand?"

She shook her head, "No, that would have been when she was struck by the stunners and his hand the result of Marvolo's ring."

"I'm not following, Hermione."

"If they lived a double life, how would their children know when it would be alright to call them mother and father and when not?"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory understood all too well. Minerva, or rather Katherine, would have to leave soon as it would not do for the Headmistress to be too late. Minerva did have a school to maintain after all. Hence, she was preparing to leave. She would insist it was due to lasting leg pain, which was in part truth, and had need to retire for the evening. However, he couldn't stop the question from falling from his lips. "A parting dance?"

"You're leaving?"

"So soon?"

"Did he just say, dance?"

Minerva ignored the ongoing commentary from those around them and listened to the strands of music echoing throughout the Atrium. It reminded her of a time long since passed and was about to decline, but recalled that Rory had asked her all those months ago and again this evening for the opportunity to have but one dance. She handed her flute to Helena. "Would you mind holding this for a few minutes?"

Helena knew better than to comment about the strain that would inevitably be placed on Minerva's hip. She knew that Minerva knew her own body, a little too well for Helena's personal liking; because that meant she knew how far she could push it before it collapsed. "Of course." She replied.

"Perhaps, just one." Minerva remarked and placed her hand within Rory's; together, they glided towards the dance floor. She could sense his unease, knowing full well that he rarely enjoyed being the center of attention. Which, dancing with her at this point in her life, invariably he would be. "Still feel up to it?" she asked as they stepped onto the edge of the wood dais.

"You know I do love to dance with you," he replied, gently placing his hand upon her waist and trying his best to ignore the growing onlookers. "Let me know if you need to stop," he tenderly remarked.

"I will." She slipped her hand atop his arm, both sliding into an easy tempo as the previous song's tempo ebbed away. At once, her eyes swept across the dance floor to note where the other couples were in relation to them, and she found her gaze remaining fixed upon an adjacent couple. The man was dressed in a long black fitted dress robe with an albino dragon hide vest, ginger hair, long lines and the distinguishable features of Rory's lover, George Weasley. However, it was not he that had caused her attention to remain riveted, rather the woman held within his arms. Chestnut hair hung softly upon her left shoulder, while the light played upon the velvet sheen of dark blue strapless dress; with a long open back and a low v front exposing the strong lines of her back. It wasn't until she blinked a second time that Minerva realized that she had indeed been staring, at none other than Hermione Granger.

Rory spun them around to see who or rather whom had momentarily caught Minerva's attention. George and Hermione. "She's a beautiful woman." He murmured as the song ended and as the next song began; and they shifted positions slightly. "Waltz?"

"Viennese," she specified.

He gave a nod and as one, they started.

"She is," Minerva finally commented as they stayed within the simple construct of the waltz for a moment, enabling both to acclimate themselves to the other, the music, tempo and the floor. "How are things with you and George?" She asked as they turned.

"Don't parry." He remarked, "As you well know the answer."

"Then what will you have me say?" she questioned as the very woman they were speaking about swam across her field of vision again.

"That you're taken with her," Rory stated drawing Minerva's immediate gaze.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said as he spun her away from him and she twirled along the floor as if weightless.

Three steps later, he countered. "And when you just gazed at her." He dipped her low as he wrapped his hand to support her, he finished. "There was a spark in your eyes that I haven't seen in over thirteen years."

She could feel her hip want to catch as she pushed off her leg but ignored the pain; her thoughts were solely focused on Rory's preposterous comment. The last thing she could have was him believing there was something between her and Hermione when there wasn't. And never could be. "That spark was my hip catching."

"A spark, and not one muted from pain; but vibrant and reminiscent of life."

She slid down his arm, across his back dipping her neck and as he moved, falling backwards as she lifted her leg…

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione and George stepped from the floor along with the last few remaining couples as all eyes fell upon Rory Wallace and Katherine McDore. Hermione had known that Minerva could dance, sensed that she and Albus must have been magnificent and had even witnessed them perform a simple waltz during the Tri-Wizard tournament, but in truth, she had been sorely wrong.

Minerva couldn't _just_ dance.

She brought it to life.

It was odd, really. She didn't see Katherine McDore as the woman made her way across the dance floor, rather Minerva with slightly different features. Because, that's all it was. The most noted alteration was the long locks of auburn tresses that fell to the middle of her back with a hint of white dusting along her temples and the overall lack of inhibition. She seemed, lighthearted. As if the weight of the world was not resting on her shoulders. Which, to this woman, it wasn't. And unlike the venerable Headmistress…she was lively, carefree…and it reminded her of the first time she had heard Minerva laugh. Truly laugh. The memory brought a smile to her lips; it had been, magical.

Her attire was another reminder of how different this woman was from how Minerva typically portrayed herself. The back dipped as low if not slightly lower than her own dress, while the front dropped to the valley between her breasts, the straps as thin as her glasses frames and Minerva's head fell back, exposing the long line of her neck as the rubies sparkled against the light before her body continued her enticing movement. Minerva's leg extended out and Hermione couldn't help her eyes as they trailed the exposed milky skin, her breath hitching as the fabric fell from the knee revealing how long and toned Minerva's legs truly were.

* * *

xooxo

* * *

"I'm bound," Minerva remarked as he brought her to him. "Or have you forgotten?"

"And living one's life does not mean that you will be any less faithful to him."

"Rory…"

"Enjoy her company," he interjected as she dipped her leg and twirled about him, a light chuckle slipping past his lips, "It isna as if anything will happen. Ya willna let it."

"It isn't that simple," she whispered as the musical piece began its crescendo.

"Life never is, love. But," he fell to the end of her arm, their weight pulling the other as they momentarily bowed apart, "You are dying, and what harm is there...?" He braced his legs and moved his upper body; she collapsed into a long line for a singular moment while she twirled about him and in a signature move, Minerva used her agility to stop and as one, invert hers and Rory's positions; she now standing, their arms entwined and her gripping his wrist as he extended his body outward. She could feel her hip waver, opted not to prolong the move and with a deftness rarely seen, Rory was up and spinning her away from him. However, he could tell from the sudden pallor of her skin that the last move, while enjoyable, was unwarranted and they shouldn't have performed it.

She was in pain. Which she confirmed as she whispered, "Two more dips…"

"Just one," he murmured as he brought her to him and dipped her low, body only inches from the floor, his own mirroring hers as they spread out their arms to maintain their balance. They held the position for a minute, the crowd erupting into cheers and applause drowning out the last of the song; with a great deal of reverence he stood, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around her waist. "You are a beautiful dancer, Sis," he whispered, giving her a soft kiss upon her cheek.

"As are you," she replied and both dipped their heads as the crowd continued applauding.

He waved as did she, and with one final bow, they smiled and started moving, his arm and hand still wrapped around her waist, enabling him to easily discern that she was barely putting any weight upon her leg. And he vowed to renew his comment from earlier as they made their way to the exit. While he was sure she would not break her vow to Albus, there was no reason for her not to enjoy the last several months of her life. Bound or no.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione gave up trying to fight through the throng of persons wishing to speak with 'Katherine'; she'd speak with her later. After all, the

Headmistress had yet to make her appearance. But upon seeing how much Rory was supporting her, she almost wished that Minerva wouldn't come this evening. She would undoubtedly be supporting the bulk of her body weight upon her walking stick.

"Bloody brilliant," Ron said drawing up to her and effectively cutting off her thoughts. "It almost makes me want to take up dancing."

"You, dance?" George chuckled as he handed Hermione a glass of merlot. "The Wisps have a greater chance at winning the Quidditch World Cup than you becoming a dancer."

"Hey," An indignant look flashed across his face, "It could happen."

"Let it go, Ronald," Hermione said into her merlot.

"Hermione and I used to dance all the time," Ron snapped to his brother, "When we were married."

Hermione outright choked on her wine, and barely managed to not spew it all over her ex-husband. "We never danced, Ron. We were lucky to dance one or two slow dances per year."

"What?" He spun on her, "That is _not_ true."

"Dancing is not attending a quidditch match and jumping up and down."

"I attended hundreds of events with you, and we danced at each one."

"Again, you are thinking of quidditch matches, because I can assure you that we went to twice as many matches as parties unless they were one of your friends'."

"What? Were you keeping _track_?"

"I didn't have to, Ron. It was never a choice, your wants always came first."

"Is that why you wanted a divorce?"

"Whoa," George stepped in between them before their voices carried to far too fast, "Not here, you two."

"Lay off," Ron barked to George, "You're just interceding in the hopes that she'll go home with ya."

Hermione had already palmed her wand, and was in the process of raising it up when Rory's broad shoulders were suddenly standing between she and he. "I think it's time for ya ta leave, Ron."

Blue eyes burned with anger, "Alright. But, George, if you take her home so help me…"

"Oh for Christ sakes Ron, grow up," Hermione interjected stepping around Rory, "I'll damn well sleep with who I want. And if it included the entire Wizengamot, the Holyhead Harpies or the Chudley Cannons, we're divorced! Get over it! Now, go home, sober up and get your head on straight before you go out on patrol." Her comments instantly drew a flurry of looks. And Hermione damned herself, Harry and Ron for being the blasted golden trio; because as much as she would like to let him flounder in the middle of the Ministry's Holiday party, she couldn't. "Dammit." She snapped as she reached out and grabbed his arm, "Let's get you out of here." She leveled a death look at George and Rory, "And not a comment out of either of you," she stated before dragging him towards the exit.

Rory felt a smile pull on his lips; no wonder why Minerva gravitated to her. "She's a spitfire."

George nodded as they continued watching Hermione drag Ron from the party, "Yeah. I still haven't figured out what she ever saw in my brother."

"Probably his smile." Rory quietly remarked as their eyes met.

"You looked great out there tonight." George forced himself not to step forward and into Rory's presence.

"Perhaps," Percy stepped beside Rory, placing his hand on his shoulder, "you know who my brother's shagging." Percy paused. "By the way, great dance with McDore. And wow, what a beaut she is."

"Do you think you could introduce us to Katherine sometime?" Molly inquired as she joined their growing number of people. "I would very much like to meet her."

Rory and George's eyes met for a brief interlude before turning to Molly, "I will ask, but know that Katherine does greatly value her privacy."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_ Just great, first Ron; now Harry._ Hermione thought as she guided her best friend towards where she had left George not even a half hour prior.

"No, no." Harry shook his head, "'Mione, where are we going? I'mm fine. Really."

"We are finding Ginny and I am sending you home."

"Why?" He stopped moving, "Because I want to ask you how much you know about the _McDores?_"

Brown eyes flashed in frustration, "Exactly, how much _have_ you had to drink?"

He started to say four, corrected to five and at six he just shook his head. "A few." He finally admitted.

"Do you _really_ think that tonight is a good night to talk about the McDores, namely Katherine and Brian?"

"She was married to _him_." He intently countered, "Had kids."

"Four to be precise." Hermione corrected, "And she has two grandchildren with a third on the way."

"Hermione, how…" He shook his head, wanting to clear out the cobwebs while still hoping to awaken to find this evening never happened. That he never realized _exactly _who Minerva McGonagall was, or more importantly, to whom she had been married. Because that meant she could have known about Dumbledore. Probably did. And he couldn't deal with _that _tonight or its implications. "How in the world did they dupe the whole of England?"

"With great care, Harry." Minerva's distinct voice caused both Hermione and Harry to turn; and gloved white hands shot out and steadied the younger wizard.

"Ahhh…" Hermione found herself speechless as her eyes landed upon a sea of emerald.

"Lovely dance, Minerva." Harry said as he re-steadied himself and met her typical gaze. "And…" His eyes swept over her appearance, "How'd you change so quickly?"

Gone were the auburn locks, the fitted black dress, the ruby choker and heels; they had been replaced with the venerable Headmistress of Hogwarts and her impeccable yet comparably conservative attire. Her gown was made of emerald velvet that flowed from the curvature of her neck to just past her shoulders and then fell captivatingly nondescript across the swell of her breasts, hips, legs and to the floor; a long beautiful string of pearls glinted against the fabric and a matching set dangled from her ears while her hair was pulled up from her neck in a soft French twist, the pearl streak appearing more as an accent than a fixture, and a carved walking stick rested within her pearl white gloved hand.

"Practice." She curtly answered, eyes easily meeting Hermione's who were now level to her own. _Heels,_ she quickly extrapolated.

"If you were married to…" A smile momentarily broke across his face, "Brian, which…clever by the way," Before sobering, "did you know what he was doing? The whole sordid affair?"

"Come by Hogwarts tomorrow afternoon and we'll talk." Minerva calmly replied.

Olive and emerald eyes met for a long moment and finally, he nodded. "Tomorrow." He paused and almost stopped himself from leaning over, but gravity or fate thought better of it; and he half heartedly collapsed into her, arms instantly reaching out to grip her in a tight embrace.

"Now." She kissed the side of his cheek, "Go sleep it off, Harry."

"Yeah." He gave a nod, "Alright." He stepped back, blinking the tears from his eyes. "Can ya help me find Ginny, 'Mione?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione knew the definition of futility: finding Minerva McGonagall; it was like trying to catch the wind. She should have known better than to try, however, she thought being as it was a confined space she'd be able to locate her. That had been over twenty minutes prior and she had since decided to concede for the evening. Besides, she figured, she would be able to find her tomorrow or at some juncture in the near future and opted to make use of one of the balconies. Because, while she wanted to speak with Minerva, to understand how the woman had been able to lead a double life for so long, she also needed a few moments of solitude and to pause in reflection. Her spat, for lack of a better word, with Ron had been a little too public. She was sure she'd be reading about it in tomorrow's _Prophet_.

She leaned forward, locking her elbows and enjoying the way the breeze felt against her skin. She knew it was only magic, and that it was a hollow shaft along the side of the building; charmed to appear as the night sky with a warm breeze and glittering stars. But for the moment, that was fine.

There were no people here. No arguments. No…auburn tresses. She paused at that and found herself taking another hearty swallow.

That was the last thing she needed to think about tonight. Her growing fascination with Minerva.

And she focused on the one topic that could still drive all others away – Ron.

What had happened to them? One minute they were madly in love and the next…she remembered waking up and wondering what in Merlin's beard was she doing with him. Had it really been that sudden? Could she have done something different? Should she have given him a second chance?

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"I thought I might find you out here." Minerva gently closed the door behind her, "Unless you'd rather remain alone."

"Your choice," she stated into the faux night air.

Minerva stared at the younger woman, noting the rigidity of her back, the tenseness of her posture and tightness of her jaw. George had been accurate, the argument between she and Ronald had left their mark. "You look lovely this evening." She remarked taking the handful of steps forward, weight resting heavily upon her walking stick as she did.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, "As do you," she said, turning to the elder woman. "Both times."

Minerva contemplated side stepping the compliment and the remark but opted to take it for what it was. "Thank you." Minerva conjured a glass and miraculously a bottle of merlot appeared. She poured herself a splash and was heartened that Hermione nodded, and she filled hers as well before setting the bottle upon the ledge.

"You missed a stunning performance earlier this evening." Hermione picked her glass back up, returning her gaze upon the stars. "By a fairly renowned dancer, perhaps you've heard of her, a Katherine McDore – with Rory, of all people."

"I heard." Minerva simply replied as she took up her own glass.

They both sipped their wine remaining quiet for several heartbeats.

"Do you miss him?" Hermione's question barely a whisper upon the air.

Minerva gently responded surprising Hermione in doing so. "At times very much."

"I went through decades of Daily Prophets looking for a sign, a slip, something that would prove or disprove your marriage; and there it sits for the world to see." She shook her head, "Harry was right." She cast Minerva a sideways glance, "You both duped the wizarding world."

"That was never our intent." Minerva let her hand splay out along the masonry, before running her fingers along the gritty surface. "We both merely wanted a life away from the iconic personas we were becoming."

Brown eyes fully leveled upon the soft lines of her profile and Minerva found herself expanding on the answer.

"Percival was four and Tessa two when we opted to enter a dance competition." Minerva remembered the evening as if it had happened last week, "And because of our respective working relationship chose to enter under a pseudonym; a combination of our last names – along with our middle ones. We did very little in regards as a disguise, choosing to alter our hair color, clothing styles, and he a closely cropped goatee. No one knew us as we danced that evening. After all that had happened in the war and post-war; it was truly liberating to be ourselves and in openly expressing our love without fear and in relative anonymity." She shook her head at the memory, "We placed third that night. But, it was the night itself that held such possibilities to us. We went out a few weeks later sporting the same names, same mildly altered appearance; but this time with Helena and Harold."

"The pseudo-birth of the McDore family?"

"In a manner."

"Do you regret it?"

Emerald eyes finally met Hermione's. "No. It enabled our children relatively little notoriety, and a semblance of normalcy. Although, I do not miss the overbearing complexities of it."

Hermione remained quiet for a long moment locked in an internal debate. "Do you think it would have made a difference if Ron and I weren't known? Weren't part of the golden trio?" her voice became softer, "And we had been able to live a life in relative anonymity?"

Minerva easily remembered the long days and nights that she and Albus were not be able to be together for this reason or that, the horrific fights that ensued because of the path they had chosen, and their passionate make-ups. "I think," The gentle timbre of Minerva's cadence barely stretched between them, "that neither notoriety nor anonymity are what form a relationship, but a solid foundation is the basis for a lasting one."

Hermione's teeth caught the edge of her lip, tears glinting off the soft light as she turned back to faux sky. "I had believed…" She drew in a long breath, "We had one." She shook her head at fallacy of her beliefs. "I guess I was wrong." She reached up and wiped the edge of her lashes in a vain attempt dispel the coming tears. "Or we'd still be married."

Minerva didn't know the details regarding her and Ron's marital demise, but she did know that Hermione had tried for quite some time to hold their relationship together. "That is not true."

"You don't know that, Minerva. You can't possibly." A tear fell off her lash, "And I can't dismiss the notion that perhaps I could have and should have done something different."

"To what end?" Minerva gently asked.

"For starters," Hermione turned back to the sky, hand running along the masonry edge. "So that my children won't think…that I'm a failure. That I caused the divorce and ultimately am the reason why they rarely see their father."

"That is hardly a reason to have remained in a relationship with Ronald. Especially one in which you obviously weren't happy or at the very least content, and hadn't been for years."

"No, but it's a beginning of several." Hermione whispered. "I don't want to have to raise my children alone. Not that I can't and probably won't, but…" She went ahead and let carefully guarded thoughts slip unbidden from her lips. "It would certainly be nice if I didn't have to. And I can't help but wonder if I had done something different or if Ron's and my circumstances were I don't know…" Her shoulders marginally dropped as she pressed on. "Perhaps if we weren't the golden trio and publicized in the _Prophet_ at every opportunity, maybe it _would _be different and we'd still be together." Her voice gasped as she quietly finished. "And I wouldn't be alone."

"You aren't alone, Hermione." Minerva swallowed her own emotion. "Not only do you still have your family but also very close friends." A tender expression came over her face, "and I have no doubt that you will find someone very special and when you do, they will feel the same way about you…"

Minerva stopped speaking and turned to face the door as it swung open, while Hermione turned away enabling a moment for her to compose herself.

Arthur held up his hand, "I was hoping to speak with you for a moment, Minerva." His gaze flashed to Hermione and back. "However, it can wait…"

Minerva knew from experience, the last thing Hermione would want was to draw attention to herself. With difficulty, Minerva feigned a smile and gestured to the door. "We were just finishing and I leaving." Minerva banished the bottle and empty wine glass, "So, now will be quite fine, Minister." She motioned for him to exit and was almost through the door when she heard Hermione's faint words.

"Thank you, Minerva."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Her children finally asleep, Hermione exhaustedly drew the comforter and covers back on her bed. It was a few minutes to one and at best, Hugo would be up in five hours – reality, it would be closer to four.

With a light groan at how tired she'd be in the morning, she slid into warm flannel sheets. A smile pulled momentarily at her lips; one of the house elves had changed the linens this morning. They were fresh, warm and flannel; and after the day she had, it was bordering on bliss.

She had never realized how much the little things made such a huge difference, _well…she did_; she thought as she pulled over a pillow and wrapping her arm around it, _she'd just never been on the receiving end. Like the thoughtfulness of a warming spell on the sheets or the bouquet of flowers waiting for her on her desk this evening with the short phrase, 'you aren't alone' on a small card resting against the vase. _

Nestling further into her pillow, eyes already drifting shut, she tiredly mused on the phrase on the card Minerva had left in conjunction with her tenderly spoken words before Arthur had interrupted, and she wanted nothing more than it to be true.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: One gala done, two parties to go. ;) As always hope you enjoyed._


	65. Chapter 62 December 20th, 2009

**Chapter 62 ~ December 20****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

"Pleeze mum?" Hugo's head tipped back, enabling him to gaze at her.

"Honey, Aunt Minerva is busy today and I doubt you'll be able to see her." Hermione gently stated before taking another sip of coffee.

"Pleeze…?" Hugo begged again, blue eyes appearing more desperate than the last time.

And Hermione found herself giving in to him, "Milksy."

At once she appeared, "Miss Hermione's." Her smile broadened as she saw the Misses' son. "What's I helps you with this mornings?"

"Aunt Merva!" Hugo spouted out. "Peeze!"

"Please." Hermione reiterated.

With a frown to his mother he acquiesced and repeated the word. "Pleeze."

Milksy looked expectantly at Hermione, waiting to see her response. With a tip of her head, Milksy vanished. Only to return less than a minute later with sparkling eyes and a curl of her lip, "Mistress bids' you'se boths a good morning and she's be by befores leaving Hogwarts."

An innate smile pulled upon Hermione's lips, "Thank you, Milksy."

"…" Hugo began running around the room with his arms held outward.

"Would you'se like breakfast now?"

"We'll wait for Rose." Hermione glanced to her rambunctious son, "Perhaps a piece of fruit and slice of bread though to tied Hugo over."

Milksy didn't need any additional details, she was gone; and within a handful of minutes, a small silver tray appeared with a bowl of bananas and a piece of lightly buttered toast.

"Time to wash up and have a snack."

He glanced up and eyes fixed upon the tray for a minute and then he darted forward. "Is those banans?" he pointed to the cup.

"Yes, honey. But you still need to wash up."

"Buts mum, I canna eat them." He whined pointing at what now appeared to be the offending fruit.

Hermione frowned, "I thought you liked bananas." She distinctly recalled how Minerva had charmed them into looking like an animal, and he had a sudden new affinity for them. So much so, that he had inhaled them for the last week at Molly and Arthur's.

"They'se are nots fish ones."

"By the time you wash your hands and come back, they will be."

"Wreally?"

"Yes, really. Now wash up."

Hugo didn't look back, "Alright."

Hermione waved her hand over the fruit and the bananas morphed from circular cuts to that of fish. Drawing her fingers through her hair, she found her eyes reverting back to the bouquet of Christmas colored flowers; from carnations, to roses, to tulips, with sprigs of ferns and baby's breath. Her heart seemed lighter as she stared at the flowers, the three words from the card easing the weight of her ever-present and seemingly growing discord with Ron.

A discord that had now spilled into the public arena; and would further exasperate the 'duo watch' column in the Prophet. Thankfully, she appeared so infrequently out in public, that less than a third of the reports pertained to her. However, it still hurt to read about Ron; each and every excruciating detail. From his latest date to an evening out on the town with _'the guys'_.

In a way, he had finally gotten what he had always wanted.

Fame.

"Cool." Hugo grabbed up the fork, "They's be fish."

Blinking past the words, she smiled at her son. "They are fish."

He bobbed his head up and down, "Yup."

She curtailed asking him to repeat the phrase as he jammed two more fish bananas into his mouth, opting for the more immediate problem. "Chew with your mouth closed." She tipped her head down as she poured another cup of coffee to keep her son from seeing the laughter in her eyes, because he had clamped his mouth closed and his cheeks bulged out in response. He was like a mini-chipmunk.

"Good morning." Minerva's voice cut across the room, causing Hermione and Hugo to immediately spin towards the sound. She closed the inner passageway door, green eyes lifting up to see a broad face grinning young boy who had dropped his utensil and was pouncing forward. She knelt down with a slight twinge and scooped him up into her right arm; placing a bit more weight onto her walking stick to offset his.

"Morning," he slobbered a kiss onto her cheek, hugging her neck.

"And to you my wee lad," she kissed his forehead and glanced over to where Hugo had ran from and felt a flutter in her chest at seeing Hermione with her hair still not brushed out, a robe tied about her waist and what looked to be a worn grey shirt and a pair of loungewear flannel pants beneath. "My apologies," Minerva drew to a stop, "I did not realize you had just awoken."

A warm smile spread across Hermione's face, "About an hour ago." She nodded to her child held within Minerva's arm. "He woke. And I've been enjoying some coffee since then."

"I see." Minerva glanced to Hugo, "And what have you been doing this morning?"

"Well…" He paused, pulling his lips to the side as if he was supposed to be thinking of the answer. "I playeded."

"By yourself?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded and turned to point at his mother. "Mum too."

"And you have let Rose sleep this morning."

He blinked, "Yup. She's tried staying up to sees mum last night. I trieds to wakes her," he shrugged. "She's didn't want to wakes up."

Minerva let Hugo down, "I think that it is alright that she's still sleeping."

"Can we's plays with you taday?" He picked his fork back up and stabbed at the fruit.

"I'm afraid I won't be here most of the day." Minerva sat down opposite Hermione and equidistant to Hugo.

"Why?" he mumbled while trying to chew another piece of banana.

"I have some things I need to do."

"Oh." Hugo muffled in response.

"But," Minerva kept her voice light, "I will see you tomorrow night when you come with your mother and your sister to my house?"

His eyes bugged out of his head, and he swallowed the contents of his mouth in its entirety. "WREALLY?" He spun his head to look at his mildly surprised mum, and then back to his aunt. "You mean, you have a house? More than Hog..warts?"

"Yes, I do." Minerva stated, "And I'm having a rather large party there tomorrow night and your mother's invited."

"So…" Hugo darted to his mom, pulling on the sleeve of her robe. "We can goes too?"

"I…uhh…" Hermione glanced to Minerva, a smidgen of apprehension lacing her eyes. After all, she hadn't thought of asking her children to attend. She didn't think it would be appropriate nor did she know how she would keep an eye on them. "Hadn't planned on it." She answered truthfully, wondering why Minerva was asking her children now of all times. And why hadn't she asked her prior to Hugo? He was going to be despondent for days.

Minerva easily read a range of emotions spread across Hermione's face, a sense of foreboding swelling in her stomach. "Was their invite not included with yours?"

_Invite? _"Invite?"

"Milksy." Minerva outwardly frowned.

Hugo glanced from his mother to his aunt. "This mean yes?"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Would you please ask Bonnie where she sent Hugo and Rose's invitations for tomorrow evenings party?"

Milksy gave a curt nod, "At once."

"There are several dozen children who will be at tomorrow's event, including my grandchildren who are about the same age." Minerva expanded as they waited for Milksy to return. "And regarding their care, Bonnie is having several of the younger elves…" Bonnie suddenly appeared with a less than savory expression upon her face, "Watch them. And as they tire, accommodations are being made on the second floor for their rest."

"Mistress. Hermione." Bonnie curtly stated, "A fine morning to you both."

"And to you Bonnie. I apologize for the disruption this morning, however, who did you send young Master Hugo's and Lady Rose's invite to?"

Bonnie pulled a tiny pair of spectacles and placed them on her face, a sheet of parchment uncoiling in her fingers. "A…" Golden eyes glanced up, settling on her Mistress. "Mr. Ronald Weasley as that was who the children were with at the time the letters were sent out." She let her eyes drop back to the notes besides the various names. "Their invitation was declined."

"Declined." Hermione leaned forward, "What do you mean, declined?"

Bonnie banished her list and peeled off her glasses, "Mr. Ronald Weasley declined their attendance. I presumed it was at your behest too, therefore I did not inquire further."

Hermione felt her blood pressure pulse. "I'm sorry I did not know anything about their invitation." She vaguely recalled a notion, "Would you both excuse me for a minute?" She abruptly stood and strode to her bedroom, Hugo quickly running after her.

"This means I'se goes too, mum?" He called out, following. "Mums?" He ran around the side of the bed, stopping at seeing her sit at the edge pulling a journal out. "I'se wants too."

"I know love." She flipped back through a few entries, and frowning stood back up.

"So? Can I?" He started walking beside her, and almost as an afterthought added. "Rosie too?"

"What day were the invites mailed out?" Hermione questioned from her doorway to the two remaining occupants in her living room, she hadn't bothered glancing up as she skimmed through the 10th's entry.

"December 5th." Bonnie replied.

Minerva looked to Bonnie, "If you can make arrangements for both the children, I will finalize it with you later."

Bonnie cast one more glance to Hermione and then with a nod, a soft crack resonated in the air and she was gone.

Hermione's eyes widened and a string words fell from her lips, "That self righteous, vindictive, son of a bi..."

"Hermione." Minerva interjected with a steely edge causing brown eyes to glance up – having turned almost red in anger.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Hermione snapped her journal close; jaw visibly clenched. "I would love for Hugo and Rose an opportunity to go to your party tomorrow."

"Yeahhhh." Hugo pounced upwards into the air, squealing in delight. "I gots to tell Roses!"

Hermione waited until Hugo had barreled into Rose's room before expanding on the correlation she had been able to discern. "That was the same evening after you confronted him about his lack of attention and my conversation regarding you and their safety."

"Do not assume one correlates to the other."

Hermione sat down, "Ohh. Rest assured, it does." She shook her head, "And to think, last night I was seriously re-considering the reasons why I left him." She scoffed at her own foolishness.

"Self reflection is a wise course of action."

"Thankfully, it was only self reflection." Hermione muttered, "Or else I…" she pushed herself upright, not able to sit down. "Wow." She ran a hand through her already slightly messed hair, "I did not see that coming. I can't believe he'd do that to the children." She spun around, "To you of all people."

Minerva could sense the building problems between Hermione and Ronald, and hoped to help diffuse part of it. The younger woman was under enough stress without adding to it. "Hermione, I'm sure he has an explanation, one that will make sense."

Hermione wanted to believe Minerva's optimism, but nagging thoughts in her mind told her otherwise. Especially following his statements regarding the danger Minerva's presence placed the children in. And she couldn't help but to postulate that between his skewed thoughts regarding Minerva in conjunction with the day he had on the 5th, he had made up his mind without seeking her counsel or asking his children regarding Minerva's party. But, she'd try not to jump to conclusions and would speak with him. "Perhaps." She finally stated, "I'll ask him this afternoon."

Minerva nodded, "Good. I'm sure it'll be fine." She stood trying not to wince as she did, "I must be off. Milksy asked if I had a moment to see Hugo, and fear that I am already late for my breakfast with Helena."

Hermione glanced to the clock above the mantle; it wasn't even 6:45 yet. "Late?"

"I was to be there by 6:30."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione suddenly felt dreadful for keeping her. "If I had known, I wouldn't…."

"Don't apologize." Minerva gave her a smile, "If I wasn't willing to live with the repercussions, I wouldn't have stopped by before leaving. Think positively for your meeting with Ronald, and it shall go so. Also, if you could tell the children I look forward to seeing them tomorrow?"

"I'm sure they will too," Hermione sincerely replied. "And Minerva," The elder witch arched a brow in response, "thank you for the bouquet."

Emerald eyes glinted, "Thank you for your friendship." Came the soft, heartfelt reply before a muffled disturbance echoed outward from where Minerva had been standing.

"Where's Aunt Minerva?" Rose asked stumbling outward, followed by Hugo. "Hugo said," she paused to yawn, and rub her eyes, "That she's here."

"She just left." Hermione said blinking herself back from the countless seconds since Minerva's departure and noting that her daughter's shoulders had already taken on a pouting line. "But, you'll be seeing her tomorrow." It was as if Hermione had just flipped a switch. Gone was the bleary eyed, sinking shoulders daughter; vibrant brown eyes suddenly gazed up at her, life exuding from her entire body.

"Really?" She spun her head to her brother, "Hugo was telling the truth? We get to go to Aunt Minerva's home!"

If at all possible, Hermione felt her smile widen. "Yes, honey. We do."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"And the final preparations for tomorrow?" Filius inquired as he spooned another helping of potato soup.

"I spoke with Bonnie briefly this morning and I believe everything will be ready." She paused and glanced at Filius, "I am going to the Manor this evening for a final walk thru."

"Will you be staying the night?" his voice was soft, not carrying farther than Pomona.

"Unless there is a significant problem, no." Minerva replied in kind, "As I will be remaining there tomorrow eve."

"Either way, merely let me know." Filius congenially stated, "Only 49 students have opted to remain for the holidays. You needn't worry about the school, Minerva."

"I…" her voice faltered at seeing the stone grey eagle owl, Hercules the Potter's owl, swoop in from the windows and sped in her direction. She could feel her muscles tense, at what lay within Hercules' message; undoubtedly, Harry was in route. And of all things of late she had _had_ to deal with, this had vaulted itself towards the top of the list – even above the issues with Kingsley.

Hercules glided to a stop with elegance rarely seen by an owl his size, his leg stretching outward.

Minerva gave him a piece of bacon, before easily untying the small scroll. "Off you go." She whispered while splitting the wax seal.

Hermione could see Hercules nudge Minerva's hand with his head before spreading his wings and quickly departing. She, along with the entire staff, watched as Minerva skimmed the note; there was a momentary pause as she seemed to reread it or at least it would be perceived that she had reread it. Hermione believed differently. She knew why Harry was coming today. And, she was fairly sure that Minerva was _not_ looking forward to it. How could she be? She knew as did everyone else, how much Harry still held a hint of resentment towards Dumbledore for him not relaying the whole truth to Harry; and that Minerva was married to him. Hermione didn't know who to feel more sorry for; Minerva or Harry. Minerva for having to divulge a truth that could and would probably irrevocably alter the relationship between them and maybe even his unwavering trust in her; and Harry for having to finally face the truth from all those years ago.

She, herself, had often wondered how much Minerva knew about the war, the events during her time at Hogwarts or even the year she along with Harry and Ron were on the run. However, unlike Harry, she had moved on all those years ago; while he had blamed Dumbledore for not merely telling him the whole truth believing it could have saved countless lives.

And as Minerva's shoulders incrementally sagged, Hermione's belief was confirmed. She wasn't looking forward to it. However, ever aware of perception, Hermione watched as Minerva pulled a smile to her lips and bid Filius, Pomona and several of the teachers a good afternoon and slid back from the table. As she stood, green eyes met hers and Hermione felt her breath catch at the overwhelming pools of emotion staring back at her; and then the next blink, the elder witch had swept from the table and was gliding towards the door.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harry jogged across the flagstone, "Hermione." He called after his friend, "Hey." She paused and turned, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as Harry rushed towards her. "Where you heading to?"

The mere thought of where she was heading and why soured her expression, "To take care of something."

"You alright?" Harry's brow furloughed at how quickly her facial features changed, "You want me to accompany you?"

Hermione pushed open the large Oak door, a blast of cold winter air rushing across her face. "No." She didn't want to entwine Harry in her growing mess with Ron. There was already enough tension and strife between the three of them, the family and everywhere else that their lives overlapped; the last thing she wished was to make it worse for him. "But, thank you."

"You sure?" He questioned, joining her outside as he adjusted his cloak.

"Yeah." She whispered to herself, glancing at his profile as she did and noticed the sparkle emanating from his eyes. "Just finish up with Minerva?" she asked, a sinking feeling pulling at the pit of her stomach. He had only been here for two and a half hours, and still had a light about him; even more so.

He gave a solitary nod, "I still can't believe she was married to _him_." He whispered, a note of awe lacing his words.

"How'd it go?" Her question helping to push her own impending conversation a bit farther from her mind and his curiosity.

"I…" Harry paused and cast a glance up to the Headmistress' tower, "Well, I suppose." He drug his gaze back to Hermione, voice turning wistful. "There is so much I don't know about her."

"I used to believe her life was equivalent to the layers of an onion, having to peel back the outer layers to get to the inner ones; after having spent the last six months training and working beside her, she is nothing like an onion."

"No, she isn't." Harry's chuckle joined hers. "Perhaps once you've gotten past her impenetrable walls, but damn Hermione. She was married to him for over forty years. Lived an entire second life, had four children with him. How much do you suppose anyone really knows about her? Even her children? Her friends?"

"From what I've gathered, the Harrisons and Rory are probably the only persons who do _really_ know her."

"I don't know; you seem to have gotten fairly close."

Hermione cast her friend a rueful glance, "I know as much about her as Ron does about transfiguration."

"He has learned a fair bit these last few years." Harry quipped.

"Right." She drawled, "And I have taken up divination too."

"I give." He held up his hands in defeat. "Unconditionally."

Perhaps it was the way the afternoon sun glinted off his eyes, or the openness in his face, or the light aura that seemed to even lift her spirits; she didn't know. But, one thing was for certain; she very much doubted Minerva told him the whole truth. Because, from the few conversations about she and Albus they did have; she was fairly certain that Albus was not the only one making the decisions regarding Hogwarts and Harry.

And if Minerva hadn't been wholly truthful and Harry were to learn of it…

God, she hoped she was wrong.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Sweeping from the North Wing, Minerva inwardly bemoaned the fact that she was _still_ at Hogwarts. Deftly, she withdrew her small gold pocket watch as she strode to down the stairs to her rooms. The hands whizzed in their typical frantic fashion, to the average person it would be meaningless; to her, it indicated she had been delayed for not two but three hours.

_Bonnie is going to be irate; _she fought down her own frustration knowing full well that the evening would be a whirlwind at best. She rounded the corner of the third floor, banishing her watch back into her robe as sure steps quickly sounded along the first floor staircase.

She knew the rhythmic pattern of the gait and felt a smile begin curling the edge of her lips, _Hermione._ However as she continued her descent, she met the younger woman just above the second floor, and her own smile vanished at seeing the pained expression pinched behind mournful brown eyes. "Good evening, Hermione."

Jerking her gaze upward, Hermione's gait faltered. "Minerva." She breathed out in both greeting and half surprise at seeing her standing there. "Visiting the Tower this evening?"

"Rather the North Wing." Minerva corrected, "And you? Just returning from taking your children back to their grandparents?"

Hermione's jaw clenched, "They went home earlier."

Minerva immediately realized, she had just returned from her conversation with Ronald. And from the tenseness within her posture, it was easy to deduce that it had not gone well. Minerva opted to sidestep the obvious, "Have you had dinner?"

"No, I…am not very hungry at the moment." She innately took another step towards her rooms and away from Minerva and potentially rehashing her and Ron's conversation. "I'll ask Milksy to bring me something later."

Minerva knew the look, the pain and the feeling; Hermione was wearing an expression that she had witnessed countless times adorning her own face after having a horrific row with Albus. And while, there were times she wished to be alone; many an evening Helena's company had been nothing short of a God send. "If you are inclined, I am going to the Manor for a few final preparations before tomorrow's dance; and you are welcome to join me."

"Ahhh…" Hermione hadn't known what she had expected Minerva to say, that was most definitely not it. While she appreciated the gesture, it was one she couldn't accept. "I'm not really up for much company this evening, Minerva."

"I didn't think you were." Minerva candidly replied, "However, I was hoping for your help."

"Help?" Despite herself, Hermione was curious. It was not often Minerva asked for another's help.

"In preparing the Manor. I was due to meet Bonnie over two hours ago, hence I am running late."

Hermione found herself divided between wanting to help Minerva and divesting herself of company and wallow in self deprecating thoughts. "I have no idea what you mean by preparing."

"Come." Minerva reached out, gently taking Hermione by the arm. "I promise not to make it arduous and will even assure you that there will be a morsel of food and perhaps," They began making their way to her office, "a hint of whisky too."

* * *

oxox

* * *

To say that Hermione had been surprised upon arriving at the Manor would have been an understatement. They had flooed into the Manor, the den having been transformed much like Hogwarts – holly and pine draped across the mantle, wreaths adorning the walls, lights sparkling against the darkness of night.

The entire Manor, or at the very least, every part she had been in was decorated. It was the very embodiment of Christmas. Especially the five Christmas trees; one in the dance hall, another in the formal dining room, the entry way next to the large expansive staircase, a small one in the informal dining room, and a large one in the library. Each one had been decorated differently than the other; from silver and emerald to gold and maroon; in some ways four of the five mimicking Hogwarts houses.

Hermione had been surprised to find several acres along the back of the Manor had been transformed, large tents having been erected to enable the already large home to host hundreds more. The tents appeared to have the same style of décor, creating huge extensions off the dance floor and formal dining rooms. Lines of tables swept down the dining room; deep red linens draped over the edge, elegant Christmas Spode and etched glassware along with the flatware and napkins were already set. If she hadn't known, she'd have believed she was staring at a service setting fit for Hogwarts.

After getting over her initial shock at how festive the Manor was, she helped 'readying' the Manor. Or rather, removing anecdotal evidence as to who Minerva's family was. In truth, there were very few pictures in comparison to the long life Albus and Minerva had shared; and it helped to reinforce the fact that the Manor had not been the home they had lived in for decades. That _this _remarkable home had become nothing more than a 'show' home, and she couldn't help but wonder what pictures or memories the 'Ridge' held for Minerva and her family.

Close to two hours later, Hermione found Minerva standing before the large family tapestry depicting its lineage.

"Will that have to be removed as well?" Hermione asked drawing next to her.

"Hmmm…" Minerva half heartedly moved her head, "No." She cleared her throat, "It is protected here." She raised her wand, "A simple charm will do." And with barely a flick, the aged tapestry glimmered. The names melted away, leaving multi-colored leaves falling with what could be construed as a light breeze; a beautiful oak in the last days of autumn at twilight caught forever in the threads of a tapestry.

"Are the wards why you keep it here versus taking it to the Ridge?" Hermione gently inquired.

"That, and this is part of the McGonagall family history; which needs to remain at _this_ house." Minerva replied, eyes still upon the altered tapestry.

"Why did you and Albus move to the Ridge? Is that his family home?"

"Heavens, no." Hermione's questions finally drawing Minerva from her own world, "We built the Ridge." Minerva explained, "Choosing not to build our lives at our respective family estates."

"This is a lovely home, and I cannot imagine why you would want to build another."

"Yes, well...neither of us was ready to overcome our family tragedies that had occurred at our childhood homes."

"The why not simply depart with the Manor or his estate after building the Ridge?"

"The world believed he and I both lived at our respective homes, and regarding me, still do."

"That doesn't explain why you kept the Manor; as you could have given the Manor to another member of the McGonagall family, perhaps Warren."

Minerva motioned to the chairs and chesterfield; "I did contemplate it during the war, however, upon returning I soon learned that while I could not live here for long, nor could I give it to another." She sat down, Hermione opposite of her. "This is and always would be my family's home."

"And do you still have Albus' family home?"

"Yes." Minerva replied, "Although," her fingers idly traced the edge of the chair, "only because Aberforth has passed." The light glinted off a hint of moisture in her eyes, "That is something in the foreseeable future I'll have to determine as to who within the family shall inherit which home."

"Minerva, I didn't mean…"

"Nonsense, Hermione." Minerva shook her head, "It is a _very _real fact that I need to deal with. Especially given the current state of affairs with Johannes." A rueful chuckle slipped past her lips at the ironical nature of their conversation, and how she would have to couch the truth within unrelated facts. "I've almost died more than once these past few months, and I have no doubt that a time will come that luck and skill shall fail me, and I shall die."

"Do not say such things." She rebuked. "You are the smartest witch, person," Hermione corrected, "I've ever met. If there is anyone who will live through this, it is you."

"Your faith is misplaced, dear." _So, fully and utterly misplaced._

"Minerva…"

"Please," Minerva held up her hand, emerald eyes lined with sincerity. "Realize that while I value your staunch belief, you have to keep in mind that I am human and there will come a time when I'll make a mistake. So, it is incumbent upon me to make sure that I take care of my affairs. One being what has become my rather vast estate and delineating who shall be the recipients."

"Surely your children…"

"Will receive a portion." Minerva remarked, "But definitely not all." A closely held truth slipped from her lips. "And I don't know who will be inheriting the Manor."

"But you know who will receive the other estates?"

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Minerva inquired abruptly standing, needing to physically distance herself from the conversation for but a moment.

"I thought there might be an option of whisky."

"I think that is a possibility as well." She waved open a cabinet, withdrawing two tumblers and a bronze colored bottle before returning. Minerva unscrewed the lid from the neck of the bottle and poured each of them a full measure while debating on whether to _talk_ about such a personal issue.

"Bronze label?" Hermione asked reaching forward to take the tumbler.

"Yes." Minerva replied as she raised her own glass, pausing just before she touched it with her lips, her decision made. While Hermione didn't and wouldn't understand the dynamics of the conversation, she would listen and rebuff areas that made little sense which – Minerva desperately needed to hear, hopefully taking some of the emotion from the painful decisions that still had to be finalized. "I'm leaning toward Tessa inheriting the Dumbledore estate and Percival the Ridge."

Hermione tried not to choke at Minerva's response. _She had an inclination as to who would inherit two of her homes…why? And why not the Manor? _She openly stared at Minerva trying to keep the questions from falling from her lips, but they wouldn't stay. And truthfully, she couldn't have stopped the questions if she _had_tried. She was too curious. "If you don't mind me asking, why would you leave Tessa Albus' family home and Percival the Ridge? Why not leave Percival the Manor?"

Minerva remained quiet for a long moment, eyes dropping to the amber liquid as she contemplated how to answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and lilt noticeable. "Neither Percival or Tessa were particularly drawn to the Manor; and ultimately viewing it more as Derrick and Rory's refuge and where I would host various functions or events that did not involve the family. Tessa was, and always has been, her father's daughter. She had Albus wrapped around her tiny fingers from the moment she was born, and every day thereafter. She followed him in whatever venture he was working on, and settled on alchemy as an occupation."

"He was so adept at transfiguration, as are you, that I would have thought that she would have been inclined to follow."

"No." Minerva shook her head, "Because I was good in transfiguration."

"Did she view it as a competition?"

"Merely wanting to impress her father." Minerva took another sip of her whisky, "Which she did in spades. She was and is a fantastic alchemist."

Hermione could hear not only the pride but also the sense of lost. "You two aren't that close."

"While we have never shared the same relationship that I did with Esmerele," Minerva's lack of answer speaking volumes, "she is my daughter and I love her dearly."

"You were close with Esmerele?"

"Extremely." Minerva couldn't help the emotion from filling her voice. "As well as Callum." She idly turned the tumbler within her fingers, "Originally, we planned on giving Callum and Elizabeth the Manor on Brianna's third birthday. We had spoken at length about how to help and the extent we should. They were so young…" She could feel a tear slip off her lashes and trail down her cheek, "trying to make it. They both worked so hard, renting a flat..." Her voice rose a half octave for a moment before leveling off, "They were killed while on their way to meet Albus, Rory, Derrick and I. We were waiting for them at dinner to tell them our intent in giving the Manor to them the following week." She cleared her throat, "They never arrived."

"Minerva, I…am so sorry."

"After his passing, I always presumed Esmerele would inherit the Manor." Minerva absently wiped the trail of tears away, "She, like Callum, always held a fascination with the McGonagall heritage and the estate."

Hermione was almost afraid to ask, "And when she died?"

"I had hoped to have several grandchildren and potentially live long enough to ascertain who would be the best person to inherit which estate."

"Minerva don't think that way." She leaned forward, hand reaching out and resting just above her knee. "_You_ will be here." She squeezed her leg, "And _you _will get to see your grandchildren reach adulthood."

Despite herself, she knew that the look in her eyes betrayed her feelings. And while she knew that Hermione would not know the _real_ reason, Hermione _could_ see the truth. She would die. "Well," She let her hand drop atop Hermione's and a quiver of a smile flutter across her face. "Let me hope, but also be prepared."

Hermione didn't know why Minerva believed she would not see her grandchildren reach adulthood, but it was clearly evident. The down trodden set upon her features, the lack of spark emanating from her normally vibrant eyes, and the harrowing lilt that had taken residence in her voice were all indicators; but the most noted was how the woman herself seemed to have shrunk into herself. "From the look upon your face, and resignation in your voice it is far more than being prepared. It is as though it is certain and inevitable."

"Given enough time, it is."

"Minerva, whatever the reason to cause you to feel that there is no hope; I assure you there is."

It was on the cusp of her lips to tell Hermione the truth. To divulge one of her deepest secrets and ease the ever weighing burden. That she would die, was dying and would be dead within mere months. That even now, as death approached; she fought to remain among the living for days, weeks and perchance months, but it was a fight she knew she was destined to lose. And the hope she now fought to keep kindled was at how she could help and perhaps even save others with what remained of her fragmented life; but she could no longer deny the startling truth of her impending demise. It was inevitable, and she had to make plans for what remained of her family and to protect its proud heritage. A heritage that neither of her children were keen upon inheriting, and it broke her heart.

The great McGonagall estate had four heirs with a fifth on the way. Upon learning that Tessa had been pregnant, she had hoped that at first Katherine and subsequently Callum would inherit the same zeal for the Manor. So far, neither had. They were so much like their mother…

And then a miracle happened. Percival and Audrey were to have a child this spring. She could only hope that in the future, that their child would or perhaps young Katherine or Callum would become interested. Because, the truth was, in a very short time period, it would no longer be her concern.

And that scared her.

For what would become of the famed McGonagall Manor? Or more importantly, her home? Perhaps, that is what bothered her the greatest – that she had lived 87 years, devoted her life to protecting the wizarding world, her family, the McGonagall family, friends…and at the end of it all, what remained of her children were more interested in their lives, homes, immediate family history or even their fathers while hers…and the home of her forebears would be forgotten.

Finally, Minerva found a tendril of the strength required to answer Hermione how she needed to. Not how she wanted to. "I shall try and believe." She whispered feigning a smile. "Now," Minerva squeezed Hermione's hand trying to offer a hint of belief that she herself didn't believe, but fought to convey regardless. She cleared her throat and then gently withdrew her hand, and subsequently so did Hermione. "regarding Percival, he has always been more of a loner. Wanting little to do with either Albus or I's life and preferring to carve his own way. And I think," She finished the last of her glass, "I may need something a bit different." She stood, making her way to the cabinet she had left only a few moments before.

"Minerva I didn't mean…"

"Nonsense." Minerva pulled a nondescript bottle from the depths of the cabinet. She held it at arms length, obviously trying to read something. Once satisfied she glanced back up, "If I were you, I would be equally as curious." She strode back, "It's not as if you or much of anyone knows of my children or their eccentricities," she gently pulled off an aged cap, "and from my prattling this evening, I apparently had need to speak of it."

"You aren't prattling." Hermione rebuked, "Though I do wish you were a bit more optimistic regarding your future."

"I've lived through three wars. Lost almost my entire family and most of my friends." She upended the bottle, a rich caramel liquid slowly poured into her tumbler. "So, please forgive my occasional jaded view." She nodded to the bottle, "Would you care to try?"

Hermione finished the last of her whisky, feeling the liquid warm its way to her gullet. "What is it?" A tentative note lacing her question.

"Let's just say, it's from my private stock." Minerva obliquely answered.

After only a moment's hesitation, she extended out her hand and tumbler within. After all, she had yet to have any of Minerva's label that hadn't been good. "For the record, you aren't jaded." She watched as Minerva poured a deep share into her glass, "Rather inspiring."

"How about this evening, I'm neither." Minerva stated setting the bottle down.

"Whether you choose to be or not, you are an inspiring woman." Hermione could sense that Minerva was beginning to withdraw from her commentary. "That doesn't mean I view you as anything other than what you are, Minerva." A genuine smile crossed Hermione's lips, "My friend."

The worry in her veins immediately eased at Hermione's commentary, "To friends." She raised her glass, Hermione followed suite and both took a sip.

Hermione pulled her tumbler back with deliberate slowness, eyes focused upon the amber contents that she could feel spidering through her system. "Wow." She whispered, "This is far better than the silver labeled malt." Unlike the fizzy wizzy feeling, this was like drinking a bottle of warmth that seemed to coat the whole of her body.

"Don't tell that to Helena."

"She's never had this?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

Minerva chuckled, "Not in a sober enough state to know. She was too busy drinking through my stock of 1914 silver labeled malt."

"Well," she nodded to the bottle on the table, "how many bottles of _that_ do you have?"

"A few, though, it has a much greater alcohol content."

"So, don't down the glass in its entirety?"

"A glass is far better than the bottle."

"You drank a bottle of this?" Minerva nodded, prompting Hermione to follow up the question with another. "By yourself?"

"I had come to the Manor to cool off after having an awful argument with Albus. One bottle led to a second." Her cheeks flushed at the memory, "I believe Esmerele was conceived that night."

Hermione involuntarily shifted at the comment, the frankness and the lovely hue now gracing Minerva's milky skin. _She's beautiful_, a stray thought processed as she responded. "Too much alcohol and a torrid argument are responsible for Hugo as well." Hermione divulged. "Actually," She shook her head, "Looking back, that was probably the beginning of the end of our marriage."

"I very much doubt that," Minerva stated disbelieving. "An argument and passionate make up is a part of any relationship."

"True, but it became staple to ours." Hermione softly murmured.

"Hermione…" Minerva inched forward.

The younger woman cleared her own throat, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Obviously, _it _does."

Hermione's eyes flickered to her glass, the bottle and then slowly to Minerva, "Then we're going to need _another _bottle."

Minerva was torn from wanting to hear about what had happened to Ronald and Hermione's marriage and not. "Hermione…" Minerva's voice died away as the woman opposite snapped back her head and polished off the entire contents of her glass.

She reached for the bottle, "I don't think I can talk about it, sober." She began pouring another glass, pausing halfway and meeting emerald eyes. "Please don't think less of me."

"I would never, dear." Minerva finished off her own glass, and slid it forward.

Hermione emptied the last of the bottle into Minerva's tumbler. "I believe I should tell you, Minerva, I may not be monitoring the Great Hall in the morning."

"When I see the Headmistress," Minerva picked up her glass, "I'll be sure to let her know."

"Please do." Hermione retorted a smile lighting her eyes at Minerva's quip.

This time, Minerva didn't respond, choosing to settle herself back into the chair and wait. Several minutes passed in silence between them, the fire crackling the lone noise other than their breathing marking the passage of time.

"While at Hogwarts, I always thought we'd be together forever." The soft tendrils of her voice not reaching across the scant space, only Minerva's animagus hearing enabled her to hear the harrowing words. "As though we were destined, a perfect match." A chortle left her lips, "I couldn't have been more wrong." She shook her head just a bit as her speech and tone became stronger, bordering on sounding normal. "It took me over thirteen years to realize the colossal nature of my mistake and how utterly opposite we were. At first, we lived on an insurmountable high following Voldemort's defeat, our year on the run," A light rouge graced her cheeks, "in conjunction with our first love." A hint of a fond smile curled her lips at the memory, "Ron followed Harry, not wanting to be outdone and proposed shortly after he. Six months later, we were married."

"You made a beautiful bride." Minerva remarked, remembering the day of their wedding with unusual clarity. It had been one of the few times for the first several years following Voldemort's fall that she was in Britain during the summer. She had accepted not only Harry's but Hermione's invitation, and had willingly delayed her search for Johannes for several weeks.

Hermione recalled the day and a fond memory easily surfacing. "Ron had been struck speechless by your dance with each of us. I remember he commented at how 'light' on your feet you were." Hermione sipped a bit of her whisky, "Which you are by the way," she clarified, "light on your feet. And a wondrous dancer."

"You are turning into a fine dancer yourself, Hermione."

"I've always loved dancing." Hermione commented, "Had hoped Ron would take a liking to it. He never did, save for the occasional slow dance."

"Then your dancing not only lacks classical but all forms of dance?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, why?" Hermione noted the light sparkle emanating from the depths of emerald orbs.

"Tomorrow evening, my grandchildren along with Helena's and a few others will be dancing to a rather unique song; one I hope you will partake in."

"Will you be dancing as well?" curiosity burning in Hermione's depths as to what exactly Minerva was talking about.

"Indubitably." She coyly replied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Am I to presume you are not going to tell me anymore?"

"You'd be correct." Minerva's sip hiding her smile. "It would ruin the surprise, and the fun."

"Minerva McGonagall speaking of fun." It was Hermione's turn to smile, "Are you sure that you are not an imposter? A charlatan? Perhaps Harkiss drinking polyjuice?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." Minerva dryly remarked.

"Then to a party I am sure I'll remember." Hermione raised her glass as did Minerva, both drinking heartily.

_Of that, I have no doubt,_ Minerva thought. "It is one that I hope you, but also several others enjoy."

"I'm sure everyone will." Hermione could feel the effects of the alcohol beginning to ebb some of her inhibitions away. "I know I will, especially as I won't be in attendance with Ron."

"Surely your lack of dancing was not the root of your divorce." Minerva summoned another bottle from the depths of her liquor cabinet, offering and subsequently pouring a hefty measure for Hermione while topping off her own glass.

"No, merely an example of a far deeper problem. One that became exasperated over the years. His hobbies were ours, while mine were deemed frivolous. We quickly began growing apart; however, our relationship problems became secondary when I discovered I was pregnant with Rose. Two years later they began bleeding back to the forefront, and our time together became less, our arguments more and one night I told him we needed to take a break because it wasn't working, and I couldn't keep doing what we were." Hermione's voice trembled a bit. She had only spoken of this once before, to Harry, and she had been so piss ass drunk she barely recalled it. "He was spending less and less time at home, more time with his friends at the pub to knock back a few pints and go to quidditch games. While I was tired of giving up my life between work and caring for Rose. I hadn't been out in months, except when I went to see Harry and Ginny and took Rose with me. I had been drinking, as had he. We had an awful fight that night; the worse we had ever had up to that point. And…" Hermione's jaw quivered as she fought to expel the events, but the words remained stuck in her throat. She shook her head, "I can't…" She whispered. "I…am sorry." She subtly wiped away a trail of tears, "Just know that our anger began fueling our passion, simple conversations broke down into petty arguments. Ultimately, our discords are what soon became the bedrock of our marriage, along with our sex life."

Minerva whispered the outcome, "You became pregnant with Hugo that night."

Hermione nodded, answering with a dispirited voice. "Yes."

Minerva quelled the urge to inform Hermione that the glass she was emptying yet again, should not be drank as she was. The malt slipped down easy. Too easy, at times. However, much like aspects of life, sometimes things had to be learned. "Everything changed for a short time."

"It did." Hermione stretched to refill the scant amount missing from Minerva's glass, "A bit more?"

"That'll be fine." Minerva said as Hermione poured a few drams into her glass.

"I thought," Hermione set the bottle back down, "our life had reverted back to how it once was." Her eyes watered, "But within a year, I had once again become the sole caregiver of our children; disagreements formed the basis of our communication, and I can't tell you the last time he did something for me without me asking." She reached for her own glass, knuckles turning white from the grip upon it. "Or that I had time to do something for myself, let alone do something that I enjoyed." A tear slipped down her cheek, "I loved him." She whispered, "But our love was no longer strong enough to keep us together."

Minerva's heart began breaking as Hermione continued to slowly talk about the demise of her relationship with Ronald; and how deeply it had affected her.

"About a year ago, I woke up one morning and realized that being with him was slowly killing me. Had been. Day by day, week by week. And I was no longer the person I used to be. I had stopped learning. Stopped trying to make a difference. All of my energy had been focused on our children and trying to save what remained of our marriage. Focused on not fighting in front of the children, intent on portraying a perfect marriage while the arguments grew more heated. Then shortly before Christmas last year, the disagreements as Ron called them, started happening in front of the children; and I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't pretend that I was happy. I couldn't hold our marriage together." She raised the glass to her lips, "I asked him to leave right after the holidays."

Minerva couldn't hide her surprise. She had known they had separated at some point before the summer, but she hadn't realized they had been apart for so long. "You and Ronald managed to keep it quiet for quite some time."

A rueful grimace passed over Hermione's face. "That's because when we first separated, neither of us thought it would end where it did. I thought…" She took another generous sip, "he would step up, change, and be who I thought he was." The tenor in her voice shifted, "Who I needed him to be. Please," she held up her hand to stop any semblance of an interruption, not knowing if she'd have the heart or desire to finish what she had to say. "I understand I should have known better, shouldn't have believed he would change I just…"

"Loved him." Minerva interjected, no longer able to hear Hermione's self deprecating words. "And hoped."

"Yes." Hermione acknowledged.

"I too had a similar relationship with Aegis." Minerva admitted, "We both thought the other could change past what either of us was capable of."

"But, you thought he killed your brother."

"That was much, much later dear." Minerva gently remarked, "And even then, I was aghast because of the love we still shared, and do." Minerva's eyes sparkled as she spoke, a light coming from their depths. "We'll always love the other; we shared something very special during our time together. But there were so many basic and natural differences that they quickly became insurmountable, despite how much we loved the other."

"You just…didn't have the expectation of a wizarding world to follow through with what had been started."

"No," A soft smile pulled at Minerva's lips, "quite the opposite. Our parents were desperately trying to pull us apart."

"We loved each other so much…" Her lip quivered as another tear absently slipped down her cheek, "I thought we'd always be together. I thought…it would work out. That he'd grow up. That he'd be here for the kids." The line of her mouth drew firmer, "Like his parents were for him. Not act as though…his life was more important than mine. That I was like his mother, content on staying at home and raising children."

"Perhaps you both will work it out," Minerva found herself saying, hoping that the remarkable woman before her would find someone to share her life with. Even if that person was Ronald; from the heartache contained in her eyes, it was obvious she still did love him _very _much.

Hermione had already started shaking her head in response to Minerva's comment. "No." The cadence in her voice shifting as her eyes penetrated the dark green irises meeting her gaze. "The widest breadth of the Thames has become the smallest part of the divide that now separates us."

"Certainly it is not _that _vast and the divide is surmountable."

"At one point perhaps," Hermione generously sipped eyes sparkling as she finished. "But not now."

"Hermione…"

A warm expression befell the younger witch's gaze as she interrupted. "Please, Minerva don't. I didn't tell you to hear about possibilities. Nor to hear about how I can regress to my life a year prior, as I know for certain that he will not." She finished the last of her whisky before leaning forward, the glass clanging upon the table as she set it down, her depth perception beginning to wane. "I'm happy." A smile pulled at her lips, "For the first time in…" she shrugged at the stretch of time, "I don't know how many years; I'm enjoying what I'm doing. The learning, the burgeoning friendships, the challenges, being able to make a difference again – I don't want to go backwards." She pulled her hand back from reaching towards the bottle to settle on the edge of the couch to balance herself, "I want to live my life again. I want to feel alive…wow…" she leaned back into couch. "The room's spinning."

"You may have drank the whisky a bit too fast."

"Ya know…ya could have said somethin' sooner." Hermione found her gaze pooled to the vast altered tapestry hanging across the second and third floor of the Manor.

"I'll get you something to counter the effects." Minerva eyed her glass, feeling the potent effects from the small amount she drank in comparison.

"No." Hermione muttered, "I feel…good." A rueful smile crossed her face, "Though, I'll feel like crap tomorrow morning. Besides, need to finish…" She tried to pick up her head but laughed instead as her head fell backwards. "telling you…how much reasons I won't be with Ron."

"You already did, dear. How about I get you a bit of water?" Minerva stood while calling for Bonnie.

"Like that." Hermione motioned absently, "Ron would never do it. He'd already be…ya know. And he thinks I can't hold it." She blinked heavily, "I can though. Way past him. Harry too."

Bonnie glanced from Hermione to Minerva, "Mistress?"

"Is that Bonnie?" Hermione shifted enough to see that it was indeed the Matriarch of McGonagall Manor as Minerva spoke.

"Please prepare…" Minerva hated making more work for Bonnie, but she would not be having Hermione return to Hogwarts this evening. "a guest room for Hermione and a pitcher of water." She could see the momentary droop of the Matron's shoulders, "I am sorry for the inconvenience Bonnie."

"I understand," she simply replied. "It will be ready within fifteen minutes." And with a muffled pop she was gone.

The pitcher of water appeared instantly, and Minerva summoned a fresh tumbler and easily poured a glass while Hermione rambled.

"I can go back to Hogwarts." She gripped the edge of the seat, "I'm fine…well…" she chuckled while giving up from sitting upright and falling back into the cushions. "You know…or in a minute will be. And Bonnie's got so much…but she's done such a marvelous job. The Manor's breathtaking."

Minerva maneuvered to sit on the edge of her table, "Drink this." She reached out, placing the cup in Hermione's hand while keeping hers upon it to balance the beverage.

"I don't think…I mean…" Hermione tipped her head to the side, meeting Minerva's suddenly much closer gaze. "When did you move?"

"It's water." Minerva tried again, gently steering her hand with Hermione's.

"That doesn't sound as good." She found herself taking a sip anyways, "But like I said…" she lost her thought, however quickly found another. "This stuff works fast. You should…George would be jealous."

"Only because he hadn't patented it."

"That's true." Hermione's eyes glistened, thoughts returning to their earlier topic; her heading resting on the back of the cushions as bronze colored irises blinked and tried to focus on the relatively blurry yet close features of Minerva. "I'm not in love with him anymore. I love him, but it's not…he won't change. And I don't wanna." She found herself drowning in a sea of welcoming emerald. "I don't want to be alone," she quietly admitted. "But I can't go back." Her lips curled upward as her eyes closed and the truth fell from her lips. "I want to _feel _loved."

Minerva didn't have to respond as Hermione's muscles laxed, and she futilely withdrew the water tumbler and her hand, knowing that she'd have to pull a draught from her stores and have Bonnie administer it later to counter the malt's effects. But, upon setting the glass upon the table, she should have stood; should have called Bonnie to take Hermione to her room once prepared; should have started back on the final touches of the Manor; should have done _something_ other than what she did do.

She remained sitting on the edge of the table, heart swelling in her breast as she openly stared at the younger witch. The way her hair fell about her face framing her features, the light hue upon her cheeks that were the result of having a nip too much of malt, the open expanse of the neckline of her robes this evening exposed, but it was the way her lips were moistly pursed…as if waiting to be kissed that had captured and held the whole of her attention.

A soft crack jerked Minerva's attention from the scintillating notion as Bonnie appeared by her side, easily masking the troubling thought. "The room is ready?"

"It is." Bonnie answered, "Will you be staying this evening too?"

"No." Minerva stood, "I'll return to Hogwarts later."

Bonnie frowned, "Then do not mean to leave now? Is there something you need me to do before tomorrow evening?"

Minerva extracted her wand, and with a simple wave transfigured Hermione's robes to suitable sleep attire and ignoring the way her eyes wished to linger upon the lush curves of the younger woman. "There is a bit of research I need to do before returning and will be in the private library." She summoned her own tumbler of malt.

"Mistress forgive me, but it is quite late and you have a party tomorrow. It is incumbent for you to get several hours sleep." Worry suddenly lacing Bonnie's voice, "Surely, the research you speak of can wait till this coming week."

"It seems that I'll be working on it for the next several weeks." Minerva remarked, eyes flickering to Hermione and back. "And while tired this evening, my conversation with Hermione has sparked a concern that could have a far greater bearing than I had foreseen."

"Mistress, I'm afraid your context eludes me." Bonnie remarked, knowing that she did not understand or grasp what the woman before her was stating.

Minerva cast a warm look to her faithful friend, "As it does me." She gently patted Bonnie's shoulder while walking past, "please look after Hermione for me this evening."

"She will be needing a headache draught in the morning."

Minerva paused not looking back as she commented, "As well as an anti-nausea one." She continued on, afraid of what Bonnie would see in her expression if she dallied much longer and swept from the room to the inner sanctum of her personal library.

* * *

oxox

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A seemingly forgotten cup of tea sat next to an empty tumbler just within reach as Minerva scanned the next page, and the next and the next until she found the passage she had been searching for. She had long since lost track of time, with a wave of her hand, several additional candles ignited easing the strain on her eyes as she adjusted her glasses before reading the aged tome.

_…_

_ …_

_ …_

_ My love remains steadfast, as does Syria's but the distance combining with the lengthy passage of time has made it difficult not to react to the burning desire within my loins. Desires that have grown with each cycle. _

_ Upon speaking with my master regarding channeling the animalistic urges, I was reminded of the convergence that occurs between human and animal enabling the transfiguration. The sharing of traits between species – and again I return to my love for Syria. _

_ Hawks mate once within a lifetime, and I do not know if I give in to my desires if I will be forgoing that which I covet most. Syria and her love._

_ …_

_ …_

_ …_

She scanned ahead several pages.

…

…

_It is with both pleasure and deep sadness that this entry finds voice. While the ache has been appeased, I have been bound to Anij. She is a pleasing wife and our bond is strong, but even so, I find my thoughts morose at what I have lost. Syria. However, the passion that used to boil my blood at the mere thought of her, has been stymied and while I still find her pleasing, the passion that used to define my feelings has been tempered by my bond to Anij._

_ …_

Minerva skipped several hundred pages to scan the last few.

_ …_

_ Generations have come and gone. A lifetime of memories, a loving wife, children and grandchildren; and now at the end of things, I have discovered that which had been taken when I was but a boy._

_ Passion. _

_ It should and cannot be, but I find that it is._

_ My eye has once again found what it had lost, Syria. My feelings for her are in direct conflict with my bond, yet I find they have remained. I have no understanding as to why or how; only that they are. I will never speak of this, and find that Anij knows that my love remains but that it is not as poignant as it once was._

_ …_

_ …_

She flipped to the final entry which only held a solitary word.

_Convergence. _

Minerva leaned back, tiredly blinking as she peeled off her thin framed glasses. She had thought that this text held a bit more pertinent information than the scant passages with little more than anecdotal events.

She reached forward, picking up her cold cup of tea hardly noticing the temperature only that it was wet. Her mind was too occupied with a far more troubling notion negating the overwhelming urge to sleep.

Without thought, she reached forward and pulled another leather book forward; her fingers running across the embossed title.

_Bonding & Effects_

"There has to be a reason." She murmured to herself as she gingerly opened the aged text. Her eyes narrowing as she skimmed the table of contents, searching for an answer to account for the growing feelings she could no longer deny.

Feelings no longer attributable solely to her animagus state. Feelings that _shouldn't_ be there, but were there despite her being bound to another. Feelings…that were for better or worse, growing.

Donning her glasses, the words snapped back into focus and she read the page numbers of the chapter she wished to read this morning before collapsing in slumber and subsequently readying for her party in a few short hours.

_Negating the Bond._

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Xoxo

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, if it's any consolation I'm already working on the next 'dance'. As always, hope you enjoyed!  
_


	66. Chapter 63 December 21st, 2009

**Chapter 63 ~ December 21****st****, 2009 (Monday)**

Bonnie sipped her morning tea as shafts of twilight glinted through the opaque windows, highlighting the archways, the décor and the overall magnificence the foyer presented; the Manor was a beautiful home and she, like the Mistress, had missed being here. It wasn't as if the Ridge wasn't beautiful, but it lacked a certain something. An intangible that one couldn't put a finger on, but existed – as if it was missing character or perhaps even charisma that could only come from being centuries old.

Either way, Bonnie could care less because for the first time in over fifty years they were celebrating the holidays at _home_.

"Madame Bonnie," Sangle appeared next to her, "you'se should know the Mistress has not left for Hogwarts."

"No doubt still conducting a bit of research." Bonnie stated while taking another sip of her tea, "And our other guest?"

"Remains fast asleep." Sangle replied as he brought his arms behind his back clasping them at the wrists, "Though I do find it rather odd that the Mistress let her sleep here versus having us return her to Hogwarts."

Bonnie didn't pull her gaze from the holiday motif, wanting to drink it in as much as possible; knowing full well from Minerva's own admittance, that this would be her last holiday and therefore by reasonable deduction; the last time the Manor would celebrate the holidays for goodness knew how long. The children would see this house become a relic, a footnote in the annals of McGonagall history and it would not be _unearthed_ for who knew how many generations. And so, she was intent on enjoying every moment that she could at the Manor.

She had one final walk thru to complete after breakfast to ensure that they were prepared to receive 542 guests this evening; that the Manor was ready, and from her estimation it was. It was perfect, and she'd not have it be any other way. "Hermione has become a close friend of Minerva's since the start of term." Bonnie finally answered, knowing that most of the elves had joined her and the other four elves at the Manor from the Ridge and were unaware of Minerva's growing friendship with Hermione.

"Then it seems rather understandable." Sangle corrected, "Will the Mistress still be returning to Hogwarts this morning?"

"Ready her room." Bonnie's gaze finally settling upon his, "I will speak with her."

Sangle hid his shock at the notion that the Mistress would be remaining at the Manor for the whole of the day, "Shall I bring the linens from the Ridge?"

"She will not care as long as her family tartan quilt is not within the room. If it is, please place it in my chambers for the duration."

"Madame?"

"It was her parents. Now," Bonnie banished her empty cup and saucer to the kitchen, "if you would prepare her room and light the fire to take the chill off the floor and air, and once done, pull an anti-nausea and headache draught from the stores and place it on the bedside table in Hermione's room. Also, go to the Ridge and bring some of Minerva's essentials here for not only today, but she plans on spending the evening tonight as well."

"Ahh…essentials? I am afraid I do not understand what you are referencing."

Bonnie should have known, the young elf before her was eager, but knew little of how Minerva used to operate her life. He, like many of the younger generation, believed that the Manor to be her show home, nothing more; and that she had and always was content to remain and live at the Ridge. That she had lived the whole of her life as she had the last several; and the truth couldn't be farther from their beliefs. "After procuring the draughts and seeing them to Hermione's rooms, go to Hogwarts and ask Tilly to accompany you. She will be most happy and willing to assist and teach you."

"Of course," he answered before a ringing crack echoed off the wood floor, signifying his disappearance.

Bonnie spun on her heel and with a wave of her hand, the wall to the coat closet appeared and at once she descended into the McGonagall private library. "So much for sleep." She called out as the room, along with Minerva came into view.

"I see," Minerva leaned back wincing as her muscles caught, "that time has once again slipped away."

"Quite." Bonnie replied taking in the piles of books stacked upon the edge of the table, "did you find what you sought?"

"Disturbingly no." Minerva reached up and pulled her glasses off. "It seems as though there has been no prior recorded case in any of the journals and texts that I possess," a deep yawn overcame her before she could finish her statement. "And the only similar one is anecdotal at best and from almost nine centuries ago."

Bonnie glanced to the book titles, easily discerning the basis of her research just not the particulars – bonding. She could hope the situation between Albus and Minerva had not worsened any further, and perhaps that was the impetus of her research, as their relationship over the past two years had been steadily fracturing. Their arguments of late raised every hair upon her arm and had been a weary nerve for both she and Elgin. Unlike before, there was no way for them to make up, to express their love and to heal the divide. "Come, you need rest, Minerva." She motioned for doorway, "You have a busy day, final preparations which despite my every effort you will find something and hundreds of guests arriving this evening."

"I'll," Minerva gripped the edge of the desk, "floo back to Hogwarts and let you finish preparing without having to work around me."

"Your room has been readied before I came to find you."

"Bonnie, you needn't have. My rooms at Hogwarts shall be fine."

"As is your room, here." Bonnie snapped her fingers and both elf and woman were standing next to the bed. "As you plan to stay here this evening, it is of no bother. I'm having some of your personal items brought from the Ridge, and had planned on bringing a selection of dresses for this evening as well unless you already have one in mind.",

"Preferably a green or red dress, and as always, you are an angel, Bonnie." Minerva banished her hair pins and could feel her hair tumble down her back, "If you need anything," she peeled back the covers.

"I will ask Elgin or one of the two dozen elves here today, as you need to sleep."

"Whatever would I do without you?" Minerva quipped as she sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off her boots.

"I haven't the slightest notion, nor do I care to find out." Bonnie retorted.

Minerva chuckled, "Nor would I, as I would be eternally lost." Minerva wandlessly split the seam and began changing her robes for a silken night shift, "Has Hermione stirred yet?"

"No." Bonnie wasted no time, banishing Minerva's clothes as she eased into bed. "The draughts you asked for have been placed by her bed."

"As always, thank you." Minerva absently reached over grabbing a pillow to tuck her arm around.

"Get some rest, Mistress."

"Bonnie," Minerva rolled her head over to look at Bonnie, "where is my parents' quilt?"

"Being aired out." Bonnie smoothly replied.

Minerva gave a partial nod and was already turning back over, "good night, Bonnie."

"And to you, Minerva."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

With deliberate slowness Lucius turned around to face Johannes, ignoring the vice grip upon his shoulder as he did. "The answer remains, no."

"You have an invite that will enable two persons to penetrate the layers of wards Minerva has erected around her Manor."

"True, the portkey will take you to her Manor." Lucius drawled, stepping closer to Harkiss and ignoring how several others took a step away. "However, I will not enable you to ruin my reputation for a miniscule opportunity at success. All of Minerva's friends, which includes the Order of Phoenix, alongside of countless Ministry officials will be in attendance this evening. Whatever you need or are looking for at Minerva's home, you will not find it this evening; and I will be sitting in Azkaban as an accomplice."

Johannes openly stared at Lucius. His disbelief at the younger man's audacity apparent, only Aegis had so willingly defied him. And now, Lucius. Had the circumstances been different, he would have blown the younger wizard through the wall, but he checked his initial reaction. Because as much as he _wanted_ to attend, to see the Manor and obtain the book, Lucius was correct – this was _not_ the right time. There would be far too many people attending, and while adept, he would lose to sheer numbers. "Grudgingly, I accept you have a point, Lucius. However, while you and Narcissa are at the Manor, there is something I have need for you to do."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Tessa adjusted the pearl drop earrings as Malcolm came into the room, "If you are that against it, we don't have to go." He stated, voice carrying to her.

She cast one final glance at herself in the mirror, "Mother would not hear of it." She stood and turned to her husband, "And," a tremble laced her voice, "this may be mother's last holiday with us, so while I do not _want_ to attend a huge party at the Manor; I will."

"I have to admit that I'm rather curious." Malcolm slipped on his jacket.

"Ohh?" she countered as she slid her foot into her heels. "How so? It's a party at the Manor."

"Have you ever been to a party at the Manor, love?" he rebuked while fastening the lower seam line of his jacket.

"You know I haven't, but really, it's a party that will no doubt mirror the Ministry's."

"Rory didna think so." He paused, "Nor does Helena."

"When did you speak with them about it?" She tucked her arm through his.

"It only matters that I did, and that neither of them believe it will be just _another_ party." They stepped from their room, "Apparently, the parties her parents and the few Mother threw, were quite the affair and memorable."

"Kat and Cal." Tessa called out.

"We're downstairs, mum!" The children chorused in response.

"We're leaving in a minute," Malcolm rumbled.

"Haven't mused up our clothes or anything!" Kat yelled from the depths of their house.

Tessa turned to Malcolm, "I wouldn't get my hopes up, honey. Mother has not been feeling well, and with her time being split between Hogwarts and the whole mess of Johannes, I doubt the party will be anything other than what the Ministry party was. After all, we are having our Christmas at the Manor because of _allocation_ of resources this year."

"Well," they began descending the stairs. "It doesn't mean I canna hope that Rory and Helena are accurate."

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"He still shouldn't have." Ginny shifted hoping that by doing so her choker's clasp would catch.

"I am not defending him," Harry stopped trying to tie his bow tie, and took the ends of Ginny's necklace into his own hands. "Hold still for a moment."

"I know, but damn he makes it hard to be his sister some times." She felt the weight of her necklace rest upon her neck. "Thank you."

He kissed the soft flesh under her jaw, "You're welcome." He stood upright and absently went back to his own consternations. "I originally had hoped that things would mend between the two."

"Me too." She answered while pulling earrings from her jewelry box. "But it really never stops between them. And it doesn't help he has been being such a prate of late."

"Especially regarding the children." Harry frowned at seeing the final product of his labors, and untied it again.

"Did you know McGonagall called him out on how he was treating the children?"

"He mentioned something about it." Harry tied the string of cloth, "And was less than keen that she did so in front of Hermione."

Ginny could see him struggling with his bow tie through the mirror, "Why not charm it?"

"The last time I did that, I couldn't breathe for the evening," he muttered.

"When Hermione told me, I was surprised that McGonagall would say anything." She spun around in her seat and stood, "Let me." She reached out and took the material, "But, it surprised me more that Ron hasn't been spending time with Rose and Hugo."

Green eyes glanced down to his wife, "When they initially separated, that was a primary reason."

She shook her head, "They both stated it was to settle some personal differences." She adjusted the knot and stepped back, "Better?"

He glanced at the mirror and smiled, "Great."

"We're even," she went to return to her seat, but his hand upon her waist stayed her movement.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?" he whispered into her hair.

"I'm not even fully dressed and ready."

"I know," he huskily answered, "It'll be that much less I have to take off."

"Ron will be here in…" She couldn't help the whimper from interrupting her statement as sure, moist lips slid up her neck while his hand cupped her breast from behind.

"Thirty minutes." Harry rumbled against her decadent flesh, that she innately tipped her head to the side exposing more of the creamy skin.

"Harry…" Her hand dropped to her side and reached behind, beginning to stroke him. "We don't have time."

"Then why," his fingers brushed along her right nipple, "Are you caressing me?"

"Because I love to feel you," a moan left her lips as she felt him harden against her.

"Mom, Dad; Uncle Ron just floo called; he's running late. Said ta tell ya that he'll just meet us at the party." Sirius yelled from downstairs.

"Thanks, dear." Ginny replied as Harry suckled her neck.

"We have more than enough time, now."

"Harry…" She tipped her head around to capture his lips with hers. "What about the children?" she finally managed to ask after forcing herself to pull away.

"We'll be," A devilish glint passed across green eyes, "quick."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Bonnie's grin became, if at all possible, broader as she heard another round of glowing remarks regarding the absolute splendor of McGonagall Manor. Guests had been arriving for the past forty minutes and would be for another twenty before travel to the Manor was nullified; and the only travel after 6:05 pm would be those leaving. The first course of dinner would be begin shortly after 6:15 and she still had another handful of moments before she went to the kitchens to ensure that everything was in order.

She watched as Minerva greeted each guest, her smile growing broader with the passing hour. She had been most pleased when Tessa and Malcolm along with the children arrived almost fifteen minutes prior; the entire groups' mouth slackening from the décor and overall ambiance at the Manor. It was evident that whatever they had been expecting was not what had been presented.

Bonnie had watched Percival and Audrey arrive just after six, and bless his soul; he gave Minerva a kiss and warm, heartfelt embrace saying that the Manor looked just as he remembered from his youth.

_It's perfect. _She had heard him whisper.

She, along with Minerva, had had to pull her handkerchief out to dab their eyes, because he had been three when they had last celebrated Christmas at the Manor.

Each guest held a special moment, and Bonnie hated leaving her perch and witnessing the rare events – from Rory's warm greeting, to Filius' and Pomona, Mr. George Weasley's uncharacteristically reserved salutation, to Helena and Harold's lavish hello, and on and on.

She was about to snap her fingers, when she noticed a shift in Minerva's overall demeanor. Blinking, she found herself leaning forward, wondering who remained upon the guest list that would elicit such a _warm_ and friendly disposition. Then two children burst through the doors, arms held out and upright and Bonnie found herself watching the scene with a mixture of awe and wonder as the children scampered into long arms and gentle kisses were placed upon both their cheeks.

"Good evening to my bonnie wee lass and lad."

She hadn't heard Minerva use that phrase since Brianna's death, and before that…with her own children.

"Aunt Merva." The ginger haired boy snuggled into her arms.

"You have a lovely house, Aunt Minerva." The girl's voice indicating her awe as she glanced around.

"And where by chance have you left your mother?" Minerva inquired as she cast a look towards the doorway.

"She's all the way…"

"Da gate." The young lad indicated pointing to the door.

"Well," Minerva turned to the house, "you needn't wait on your mother to make yourselves at home."

"She said we had to behave." The young lass whispered.

"Aye ya do lass, but there are quite a few children just down," she pointed to the door on the left, "there. You go on and I'll tell her when she finally catches up."

"Will you be coming too?" the boy questioned, unwilling to let go of her hand.

"I have several more people to say hello to, but how about I see you in a little while."

"Promises Aunt Merva?"

"I do." Minerva whispered in response, "Now off you go."

Bonnie watched as one, the children tore down the hallway and veered into the indicated room just as Minerva turned back around, a welcome smile adorning her face at whoever their mother was. Bonnie tilted her head to see, and blinked not once but several times at realizing who the children belonged to.

Hermione.

"From their lack of appearance, I can surmise that the children have already come and gone?" she questioned slipping off her thick cloak and placing it on the pegs by the door revealing a sage green evening dress. At once, it joined the countless others in the depths of the Manor; undoubtedly keeping Zyi busy this evening as he filed them away.

"They are with the other children." Minerva easily replied, "In the den if you should have need."

"If I didn't say it last evening, the Manor looks lovely." She leaned in giving Minerva a reserved, but warm embrace. "And thank you again for last night."

"You are quite welcome." Minerva leaned back, and Bonnie found herself watching the exchange with morbid fascination. The easy mannerisms, the warm smile, the gentle touch and Bonnie shook her head; she was seeing things that were not there. Couldn't be. After all, Minerva and Master Albus were bound. And as quickly as it manifested, it seemed to deflate and Hermione parted ways while Minerva turned her attention to doorway and next entering guest, Augusta Longbottom.

Bonnie stood, about to depart to the kitchens when she watched as Minerva subtly cast a glance over her shoulder, and Bonnie easily was able to discern her field of vision. While the rest of the guests would presume the glance had been casual, a typical gander about the room; it had been the first of the night and the source direct – she had been looking after Hermione.

Golden yellow eyes blinked after the young witch as she stared after her, gob smacked. Bonnie's incredible intelligence searching for an explanation as her far too stunned brain tried to process what she had truly witnessed. She knew her Mistress greatly trusted the younger witch, as was evidence by her permitting Hermione access to the grounds and Manor which she hadn't done in decades. And from their exchanges and trainings that had occurred at the Manor; she had known that it was rather more than just a casual friendship, she'd even go so far as to say they were becoming good friends. However, she hadn't seen Minerva's features brighten that much in years; and then the look afterwards…perhaps…

Bonnie continued staring at Minerva as she greeted Augusta with a tendril of familiarity; her thoughts still firmly rooted on the _last_ guest's arrival and the overwhelming implications. It was well after Augusta's departure and the Malfoys arrival before Bonnie finally managed to pull herself away to the kitchens. Her mind not at all on the food rather the impossible notion of an attraction to none other than Hermione Granger. From everything she knew of being bound – it was impossible, not feasible and yet; she was staring at the evidence. Wasn't she?

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A handful of stragglers were still filing in and taking their seats; the pseudo hall was buzzing with the overall extravagance of the place settings; from the etched water glasses to bone holiday china, crystal wine goblets and fine silver, Hermione couldn't imagine what it would cost for one setting. Let alone, in excess of 500 of them. Harry was commenting on the linen tablecloths and pressed napkins when the ambient noise noticeably dropped; this evening's Hostess had entered the room.

Hermione blinked as the regal woman flowed towards an empty seat at the head of their table; she had shed her ivory outer cloak that had been adorned with holly and berries leaving a stunning brick red velvet dress. From the line of the dress, Hermione was certain that despite wearing heels, the hemline brushed the floor; while the body of the dress highlighted Minerva's long lines, the arms flowed past her wrists ending atop her hands in a V like fashion; a modest scoop neck swept across her collarbone that held an omega necklace with a dollop size emerald dangling from its center; matching earrings hung from her ears but it was the light that seemed to exude from the woman that captured Hermione's attention. Of late, she was so used to seeing Minerva in the voluminous robes and equally heavy duties of Hogwarts in conjunction with the Order and Johannes, that it seemed as that was woman's state of mind; her being. It had been a rare occurrence to see a smile, an even rarer one to hear a laugh, as the weight of the world had been thrust upon her and she bore it without complaint; however, tonight, it seemed as if the weight had been lifted and she floated across the chamber easily spreading holiday cheer.

"Good evening." Minerva's clear tone rang out causing the last wisps of conversation to die away; and Hermione found her attention enraptured by the steady contralto prickling across the hall. "I shan't bore you for long, just a few sundry announcements. As the night progresses, for those of you with little ones; you will find them undoubtedly fast asleep and tucked in beds upon the second floor. The London Harmonic Orchestra has chosen to grace us to their delectable notes this evening and," she reached forward picking up her wine glass. Her own glass held a deep red wine that sparkled through the crystal. And Hermione marveled as everyone's goblet immediately became full with either red or white; she guessed it was a personal preference, of which how she or rather the house elves knew was remarkable. 500 guests and knowing who liked something as particular as red or white wine; she vaguely recalled a comment Minerva had made months prior regarding her role as the Headmistress – _I'm the Headmistress of Hogwarts Hermione, I'm supposed to be all knowing, remember? _"I offer a salute to our new Minister of Magic."

The room broke into a hearty applause, causing Arthur's cheeks and tips of his ears to momentarily match the hue of his hair. He tipped his head and glass in respect, the room joining suite.

"And," Minerva's gaze swept across the sea of faces before her, "to my children." A rush of murmurings graced the hall at the openly personal admittance as everyone glanced to their left and right wondering who she was referring to. "And of course, Madame Harrison for the flood of inquires tomorrow regarding my previous statement." She, along with the entire room chuckled at her far too accurate statement, and she raised her glass again. "I wish to bid each of you wondrous holiday, from my family to yours."

"Here here." The room echoed before taking a hearty sip and much akin to meals at Hogwarts trays, plates, and dishes laden with food appeared before them.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Teng's gaze remained upon the Lady Hermione; she was a most interesting witch to watch as the dinner continued on. Initially, he had noticed the way she, along with several other parents had continually cast worried gazes aloft; where the children floated fifteen feet above. The first time a child appeared to fall from their chair, it was her sure grip that kept Mr. Harry Potter seated as he along with his wife and several other fretting parents watched as the child floated down three feet and immediately found himself back in his chair. At that point, all the children began partaking; eliciting a round of hearty laughs and cheers from not only the parents but all the adults at the children's antics.

Then came the adult aspect of the dinner game; and random witches and wizards began magically switching around the hall – not of their own accord, but their move also entailed their service setting.

Teng happened to witness the first round of moves; the Lady Hermione being one. She ended up on the far side of the room, suddenly appearing between Rory and Helena, Harold taking another's seat and the musical chairs had begun. Their expressions were priceless as they blinked at the other;

_"I don't think you look quite like my husband." Helena gaily stated._

Rory's comment along with the Lady Hermione's were lost in the throng of laughs and rings of cheers as everyone temporarily settled into their new seats; each person having an opportunity at different foods and new and lively conversations with old friends and acquaintances.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie saw the last of the dishes, plates and the children's tables tuck away as the first strands of music began wafting in the hall; a compilation of holiday chords. She had a few details that required her immediate attention and then; well…then, she'd spend the evening watching the Mistress.

In the rare moments throughout dinner, she had not witnessed any unusual glances or gazes by either woman, but that meant little. For the past two hours, she had replayed the countless conversations had between she and Minerva and Hermione in conjunction with the ones she had overheard between them; and she believed now more than ever that her Mistress had burgeoning feelings for the younger woman. Feelings she suspected were on some level, returned.

"Bonnie," she forced her attention to Werner's commentary despite thoughts remaining rooted on a far more pertinent and relevant issue. "Young Miss Kat is wishing space to be teaching the other children to dance."

"Lift the wards along the western wall of the den and extend it outward." Bonnie replied as she tampered down her own thoughts and feelings for later. Now was not the time to dwell on such matters.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie held out the pain draught, "Are you sure you should have it? This is your third one today."

"True, but the children's song will be on within the next forty-five minutes." Minerva steadied herself at her vanity, wiping her face and steeling her reserves; the evening still young.

"Promise me that you shan't have one till after lunch on the morrow."

"I shall try." Minerva took the bottle, "But, I cannot make a promise. The pain within my hip has once again become sharp and poignant making the slightest of movements difficult."

"Then forgo dancing this evening." Bonnie's voice held a pleading tone, "I implore you to merely mingle."

"Five minutes is a small sacrifice for a memory that will have to last my grandchildren a lifetime, Bonnie." She swallowed the bitter potion, "As there will be fewer and fewer moments between now and the end that my family and friends will have to draw upon."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"And here I thought I'd be alone for a moment." Rory remarked stepping onto the balcony off of his and Derrick's old room as he stepped closer to Minerva's steadfast friend.

"I just," Helena didn't bother hiding the sharp inflection in her voice. "Needed a moment to collect myself."

"Merlin knows, I _do_ understand." He reached out, arm sliding across her chilled skin.

Helena leaned her head onto his shoulder, "How have you been?"

"I'm worried about her too," he rumbled in the cold night before answering her question. "As for me, I've finally taken a lover."

She tipped her head to the side enabling her to see into his grey eyes, "Really? Who is he? Is it serious?"

"I have high hopes," Rory casually replied, "and just over a week ago formally introduced him to Minerva."

Helena knew that Rory would never have introduced his lover to Minerva unless it was serious; then again…Minerva was not the healthiest. "Do I know him?"

"Who within Britain do you not know, love?" he light heartedly bantered back.

"More than you'd believe." She answered, "And his name?"

"When he is ready, I shall be more than elated ta tell ya." He honestly stated, "It took an enormous amount of cajoling for him ta meet Minerva; and only at my dire request."

Helena gave him a hug, "I'm happy for you." She whispered, "Truly. And I can't wait until I _do_ get to meet him."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Sangle watched as the children discreetly mingled between the adults while young Miss Katherine accompanied Samantha to the orchestra speaking to the lead chair.

He knew what the young Miss was asking, a smile already forming across his lips; as the children had been practicing it for the past hour in the den.

The elderly man nodded to young Miss Kat, and Sangle was sure that the man's quick acquiescence had more to do with the Mistress' intervention well before the orchestra began playing this evening.

Settling back in his seat, he readied himself for what would undoubtedly be the true start of the evening as the final tendrils of a waltz played across the hall. He spotted young Miss Kat and Samantha darting through the mass of people until they came upon the Mistress and both stopped, grasping either arm of the Mistress. He could hear that they called her 'Nana' but also knew to everyone else, it sounded as though they were saying Aunt Minerva.

"You've gotta, please." They chorused in childhood harmony.

Minerva glanced to either child, "How can I say no?"

"You can't." Kat whisked backwards, "Hurry, the music is going to be starting."

"Perhaps I can join you at the next one," mischievous emerald eyes glinted at the young child backing up as if to escape but young Kat lurched forward.

"Hurry!" She exclaimed as her tiny hand grasped the red velvet forearm before running back to the dance floor with Minerva in tow.

Sangle watched as the cluster of children swarmed around their beloved grandmother, pseudo grandmother or _aunt_; tiny faces expectantly looking up at her, waiting.

"Now, exactly what am I to be doing?" Minerva questioned as the first chords of music began. "A waltz perhaps?"

Dozens of guests shifted their bodies to watch what could only be described as an atypical and yet extremely touching scene as the venerable woman looked to be teaching the children how to perform a dance. _How little do they know_, Sangle thought as several children shook their heads.

"No, Aunt Minerva." They chorused and a woman's voice echoed immediately behind their words.

"It's electric."

"Like this," Samantha began moving her foot to the right, half of the children immediately falling in place around them, copying her. Minerva coyly acting as though she had no idea what she was doing, purposely putting her left foot out and remaining a full beat behind everyone, exasperating the young woman. "Aunt Minerva! No, no, no…"

Samantha's words causing another round of heads to turn…

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione knew that tune, and found herself beyond curious as to why the notable London Orchestra would be playing a dance tune from her youth. She moved to take a look, only to see several others joining her as Samantha Meaur's distinct voice yelled no multiple times; and as the first syllables of the song chorused magically outward she felt her jaw drop at seeing Minerva alongside her children and countless others muddling through the electric slide.

"I think," she could hear Minerva say, "I have it."

"You're still a half beat off." Samantha stated as they came to the beginning of the dance.

"Perhaps." Minerva responded, and Hermione joined the growing number of mesmerized persons who were watching Minerva McGonagall do the electric slide. Unlike the jerky movements Hermione had witnessed moments before, Minerva floated across the floor making the dance steps appear effortless as she moved.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harold interrupted Helena and Rory, "You'll want to see this." He motioned for them to follow him.

"What dear?" Helena questioned as they moved into the dance hall, "And is that the slide song?"

"She didn't." Rory muttered trying to see around the throng of persons beginning to circle the dance floor.

"She did." Helena whispered as she watched her elegant friend sashay backwards three steps; the children mimicking her moves.

Harold's grin broadened as Minerva's voice carried across the room replacing the singers, "You gotta know it…" And he nudged Rory and began clapping in time with the music as the children yelled in conjunction with her, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius felt a bubble of laughter erupt from his lips as Minerva _spiced _the dance up at the next turn as she spun and danced opposite the children in perfect sync moving left to their right, right to their left.

"Now you can't hold it."

Samantha tried to follow suite, as did a few others as they chorused in the background, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

"But you know it's there." Minerva gracefully spun forward as they stepped backwards, "Yeah here there everywhere."

And Filius found himself clapping in time with the beat.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"I've got to move." Minerva lifted her arms, and clapped her hands in front of her right shoulder; vanishing from the line. Heads snapping around to see that she had landed four rows back, beside Rose and Teddy; and she skipped a quarter beat to remain in sync as she ignored the way her hip caught while sliding into the next step.

"I'm going on a party ride." She clapped again and appeared at the end of the line next to Sirius.

"I've got to grove, grove, grove," She began clapping in time with the beat, "And from this music I just can't hide." And she returned to her original spot between Katherine and Samantha.

She spun around, "Are you comin' with me?"

Dozens of heads nodded as she continued clapping and ignoring the throng of on-looking adults. Their time was unbeknownstly coming. "Come let me take you on…" At that clap, the red from her dress melted away into green as she finished, "a party ride."

"And I'll teach you," She popped beside Hugo, "teach you," and she was standing beside Callum, "teach you," she appeared beside Scorpius who had joined the group, "And I'll teach you the electric slide."

She paused for a heartbeat, making sure the young boy had it as the next stanza began, "Some says it's mystic." She continued clapping as the children joined the chorus, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie." At the last chord, it marked the fourth beat and she added a double clap.

"You can't resist it." She sang out as she glided between the children and they sang out, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie." At her double clap, she morphed the colors of all the children's wardrobe.

"You can't do without it." Minerva took a breath as the children chorused, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie." It had after all been a long time since she muttered this string of words aloud.

"Jiggle-a-mesa-cara; she's a pumpin' like a matic; she's movin' like electric; she sure got the boogie."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione was floored as Minerva easily sang through the jumble of words, she had never known combining with several double claps each one causing the children's wardrobe to shift color.

And before anyone knew what was happening, the children broke apart scrambling off the dance floor and into the adults.

"Don't wanna lose it," Minerva continued dancing with Samantha; each child grasping at an adult's hand and dragging them to the dance floor as they chorused "it's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

"But you can't choose it." The veracity of the statement could be felt by the room as over fifty adults were drug to the dance floor by the children.

"It's electric, boogie woogie woogie." Hermione chorused out as she too had joined the throng of people counting the beats and beginning to move as Minerva's voice floated over them.

"But you know it's there, yeah here there everywhere." And as the stanza finished, a double clap echoed and everyone's clothes morphed causing a string of laughter and hoots as the chords of music echoed through the hall.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie watched as the orchestra played several strands of music, the overall atmosphere of the Manor well beyond jubilant as almost the whole of the guest list were now moving in a semi-synchronized pattern across the dance floor to the electric slide.

She watched as Minerva gaily laughed as she double clapped, popping in between the guests as robes and dresses morphed color. One time she appeared beside Rory and he wrapped his arm around her as they moved as one; the next time, beside Percival and he showed that he had not only inherited his parents resounding intellect but as he spun around and danced opposite of his mother; it was easy to discern he had inherited their love of music too.

The next time she was dancing along Tessa, and Bonnie's heart lifted to the moon at how loving and buoyant her expression was as she clapped in time with her mother.

The double clap this time caused countless pounds of glitter to stream down from the ceiling; and Minerva was suddenly dancing between Helena and Harold. Tears of joy sparkling from both sets of blue depths, as Minerva's voice resonated throughout the hall.

"I've got to move."

And at that she double clapped and was dancing next to Harry Potter.

"Come let me take you on a party ride." Her clear contralto sending chills up Bonnie's arm, and in the next blink she was lifting Hermione's youngest child into her arms as she continued on; "And I'll teach you, teach you, teach you;" She appeared next to Hermione and set him down, between them. "I'll teach you the electric slide."

His face broke into an enormous grin as he tried to keep up with his 'aunt' and mother; Bonnie's eyes barely registering his glee as she _wanted _to see their interaction. Unlike the other occurrences, Minerva remained for a full two dance cycles as she continued 'teaching' the young lad.

"Some say it's mystic." Minerva sang out and Bonnie's heart stopped as she saw her Mistress' gaze momentarily snap to Hermione and in a blink Minerva was dancing next to Augusta Longbottom as the room chorused, "It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

_Oh dear heavens. _Bonnie's eyes following Minerva as she popped across the room and was wedged between Narcissa and Lucius.

"You can't resist it."

_That much is obvious, _Bonnie thought knowing full well what the momentary look meant as the room chorused again.

"It's electric, boogie woogie woogie." And Minerva appeared next to Kat and Sam as the lights snapped out with her next clap; and thousands of candles sprung to life.

"You can't do without it."

_What in heaven's name am I going to tell Elgin?_

"It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

Bonnie's eyes slid to Hermione as Minerva sang the strange cluster of words.

"Jiggle-a-mesa-cara; she's a pumpin' like a matic; she's movin' like electric; she sure got the boogie."

Golden eyes remaining fixed upon the younger witch; the way her golden brown hair fell down her back, face alight with joy as she clapped in time with the beat and continued teaching her child.

"Don't wanna lose it." Minerva clapped and all the children switched places across the floor.

Bonnie watched as Hermione scanned the room, while clapping and her smile broadening at seeing where her young child had landed. The smile erupting across her face told Bonnie all she needed to know without looking; he was with Minerva.

_She's falling in love with Hermione. _

"It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

"But you can't choose it." This time when she clapped, the adults were suddenly shifted about the room and Bonnie was now staring at Hermione where Minerva had previously stood; her heart sinking at the full set of implications.

_And, she can't._

"It's electric, boogie woogie woogie."

"But you know it's there," Minerva clapped again, Bonnie loving the rare opportunity to watch the seemingly carefree, lively woman that of late was anything but. The woman she wished the world for, but knew in this instance; what was slowly capturing her charge's heart was not within her reach; no matter how much she would wish it to be. "Yeah here there everywhere."

A final double clap left her hands and the room instantly righted itself, the glitter having vanished, everyone's wardrobe having returned to their previous states, the candles having been replaced with the chandelier lighting and Minerva in her typical fashion, gone as the room erupted in a raucous cheer.

The tendrils of the next song already starting to thrum across the dance floor as the Latin beat of the Macarena began and Bonnie dabbed at the trail of tears wetting her cheeks.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rose desperately tried to appear as if she wasn't just startled, "And who are you?"

"Bonnie, and you?" the matron elf answered and subsequently queried in return despite being able to deduce who she was; since she now knew who her parents were.

"Rose," she cleared her throat, "Rose Weasley."

"Well, Miss Rose, I'm afraid only the Mistress' family is permitted upon the third floor." Bonnie gently stated.

"But I am part of her family, just like she is mine." Rose stated with utter conviction, "Ask her."

"I have no doubt, but until she clears you; I cannot permit you entry."

Rose peeked around the elf's petite shoulder, "What's back there?"

"The Mistress' private rooms."

"Really?" Rose needed no further encouragement, and before Bonnie could blink Rose was already around her and reaching for the door knob when Bonnie finally came to her senses. She snapped her fingers, but the door was already opening as Rose froze.

"Bonnie?" Minerva opened the door the rest of the way to see young Rose Weasley frozen with her arm stretched out. "Ahh, Rose." She glanced upward to see Bonnie only two meters away. "What are you doing here?" she waved her hand releasing the spell holding her.

"Aunt Minerva," She darted forward, "I was exploring." She wrapped her arms around Minerva's waist.

"This isn't an area that most people get to explore in Rose." Minerva eyed the hallway and gave a Bonnie a nod; who in turn vanished as she closed the door to her rooms.

"Why aren't you at the party with everyone?" Rose asked as her eyes scanned across the inner chambers of her aunt's room as she pulled away from her aunt. The room they were in made her bedroom at Hogwarts look small.

"I…" Minerva feigned a smile, "Needed a short respite, my hip was bothering me."

"When mom doesn't feel good, she takes a potion." Rose's innocent question causing Minerva to momentarily look away, wishing it were truly that simple. "Have you tried that?"

"I did sweetheart." Minerva longingly eyed the chair she had been resting in, along with the cold pack; "Perhaps we can sit for just a few more minutes while we talk before we rejoin the party."

Rose bobbed her head, "I'd like that."

"Me too." Minerva replied without thought as she adjusted herself in her seat, and before she could get comfortable Rose climbed up into her chair too.

"Do you have any books here?" She asked glancing around, "I love it when we read."

Despite herself, Minerva outright laughed at Rose's question. "Yes, love I do have quite a few books here."

"Can we get one?" hope filled her entire body at the notion.

"Before we go back downstairs, I'll show you where I keep most of my books."

"Then you are like mum?" she innately snuggled deeper into Minerva's chest loving the warmth.

"How do you mean, sweetheart?" Minerva inquired as she gently ran the tips of her fingers down Rose's back trying _not_ to think how much she and Hermione were alike. Because, it was better for her not to even think of Hermione tonight. She had spent the whole of last evening after Hermione fell asleep and well into the early hours of the morning researching being bound to someone. Particularly the notion of being attracted to another while being bound.

"You have several bookcases of books, just like her." Rose's comment having the opposite effect as it steered their short conversation to where she didn't wish it to go.

"I do own a lot of books." Minerva stated, though not one held any information that helped her understand why she was attracted to Hermione. And as much as wished it wasn't the case, she could no longer rationalize that it was solely due to her animagus problem. It had to do with her growing feelings. Feelings that shouldn't be, as she was bound; but feelings all the same.

"Yup, just like mum." Rose adjusted her head as she yawned. "Can I come back here?" brown eyes turned to her aunt, "Just me and Hugo and visit here with you?"

"I'll have some time this coming week, before Hogwarts starts back up after the New Year." Minerva replied as she meet eyes that brought another's instantly to mind, "Perhaps then if that's amenable."

"That's just," she rested her head back into Minerva's chest, "perfect."

"Yes, you are." Minerva whispered as she gazed lovingly down at the young girl curled upon her lap.

"What…?" Rose asked.

"I said I'm looking forward to it." Minerva draped her arm over Rose.

"Me…too." Rose murmured as her eyes fluttered close, "Love you."

"And I you, my little lass." Minerva kissed the top of her head and watched as she drifted off to sleep. And understandably so, it was a quarter pass ten. She remained still for several long minutes as she watched Rose sleep; wondering how the young woman and Hugo had managed to wrap her around their little fingers while their mother had begun to steal that which had already been betrothed, her heart.

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xoxo

* * *

Teng watched the first group of guests begin leaving; it was far later than he and several other elves believed it would be. After all, it was almost midnight.

Zyi gave him their cloaks which he distributed and then gave each a Wheezies coin that had been temporarily turned into a portkey. He then explained they would arrive in the Ministry's atrium and from there be able to access either the floo network or an apparition point; whichever was their preference.

Their last parting gift was a bottle of whisky from the Mistress' personal stores; the label embossed in holly and berries with a simple McG appearing in the center with year hand scribed in the lower right corner.

"I see she has reopened her family's business." Baily said as he eyed the bottle, "A good omen."

Teng merely nodded and bid the gentleman farewell; it did not do to meddle in wizarding affairs.

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xoxo

* * *

With great care, Werner pulled the blanket up over the boy's tiny form while adjusting his pillow before turning his attention to the young girl who was sprawled out beside him; both passed out across the day bed in the Mistress' outer room.

To say that he had been surprised to find the two young children fast asleep in the Mistress' personal rooms, and laden with blankets would have been an understatement when he began bringing the first of the Mistress' grandchildren to her private rooms for slumber.

Upon relaying the information to Bonnie, she had arrived with him and without explanation said that the two children were to remain within the Mistress' room and that he was to care for them with the same diligence as her grandchildren.

From watching most of the children earlier, he believed their names were Rose and Hugo. The young boy's ginger hair indicating he may be a descendent of the Weasley family, but he couldn't ever remember a time where he had been asked to include a Weasley under his charge.

Mistress' grandchildren were without question as was Helena's grandchildren; even Filius and Pomona's grandchild but a Weasley's child? He stood there for another long moment wondering why they were here versus upon the second floor with the other three and a half dozen children.

Shaking his head at his own pointless ruminations, Werner moved to check on the other children under his care for the evening – the Mistress' and Helena's grandchildren. He was sure he'd learn soon enough why these children were placed here, but until then, he couldn't help wonder why and what made them different from all the rest?

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I see the party is finally winding down." Elgin stated startling Bonnie by his sudden arrival.

"Dear heavens," Bonnie's hand had flown to her chest, "don't you have a castle to run?"

"Not at 2:30 in the morning," he gazed out upon the lingering persons until finally landing upon Minerva who was animatedly talking to the new Minister of Magic. "How is she'se doing?"

"She's in pain and exhausted," Bonnie admitted as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she lay her head upon his. "About an hour ago, she finally resorted to taking a forth pain potion and I lost count of pepper up potions."

He kissed the top of her silvery mane, "I'se very much doubt that."

"Six," she finally stated softly enjoying Elgin's presence after what could only be described as a heartwarming albeit tumultuous day. "She was up the whole of last evening conducting research and maybe had four hours of sleep this morning."

"And this coming from you'se?" Elgin's tenor easily took any sting from the jibe, both knowing that he more than understood her predicament as she had countless times told him that it was his responsibility to _make_ the Mistress care for herself while at Hogwarts.

"I deserve far more than that paltry remark for all of mine this past month alone."

"No'se." Elgin simply replied, "You don't." He scanned the room again, "Master Percival and Miss Audrey has left already?" They were normally two of the last guests to leave any of the Mistress' events.

Bonnie nodded, "Audrey was feeling a bit tired."

"Is the child okay?" concern lacing his voice.

"Quite," Bonnie shifted a little more into Elgin's embrace, "I believe her fatigue, along with countless others, is that the Mistress had most of the guests upon the dance floor."

"Really?"

Even though she couldn't see it, she could hear the smile inflected in his voice. "Yes."

"Including Madame Tessa?" a ring of disbelief discernable.

"Along with Master Rory, the Harrisons, even all the children," she paused to see if he would guess, but he seemed content to listen to her as he began to rock to them to the orchestra's holiday music. "To the electric slide."

"The Mistress…was like her'se old self?"

A tear slipped down Bonnie's cheek as she answered, "For a minute, I could let myself believe she was."

Elgin tightened his grip on Bonnie as he watched Percival appear at the edge of the room, pausing as he watched his mother. "I'se thought Master Percival left."

Bonnie followed his gaze, "He did. He must have flooed back."

They watched as he remained at the edge for several minutes, his smile growing and then finally he strode forward and gently tapped his mother on her arm and bid the Minister his pardon but he was hoping to speak with the Hostess for a moment. He led her away from the Minister and onto the dance floor, "I haven't seen the Mistress look so happy in years," his voice rumbled as Percival dipped into a bow and she tipped her neck and two steps later they were gliding across the now relatively sparse room.

"Me either," Bonnie acknowledged as her eyes went pass the Mistress dancing with her son and landed on Hermione who was in a deep conversation with Harry Potter, his wife, Master Rory's lover – George, and several others.

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Xoxo

* * *

"I can't believe…" Hermione couldn't help herself turn and watch as mother and son moved across the floor and Harry's voice became background noise as she subconsciously adjusted the wine glass in her hand, eyes fixed upon Percival. It was easy to ascertain his lineage now that she knew, his lanky almost awkward build inherited from his father, as was his auburn hair but the bridge of his nose and the shape of his lips were from his mother.

It was uncanny how easy Hermione could trace the attribute back to, and without thought she continued partaking in the conversation around her; finding it less appealing as her eyes slide from son to mother as a rich laugh rumbled through the air causing her compatriots to turn to them.

Peripherally, she could see a smile grace Harry's lips at the heartwarming scene; Minerva and Percival floating across the wood; it was if she had stepped back in time and was watching a Victorian era dance scene from the cinema. Their posture erect, fluidity of dance steps inter-mixed with dips spins and turns, and all the while a lost conversation occurring between them as effortlessly as their dance. It was easily apparent that her son had followed his parents' flair for dance as well as their talent; they were beautiful.

"Wow." Ginny remarked, "I didn't realize she danced that well."

Both Hermione and Harry smiled into their respective drinks as George answered, "Could figure that Percival would if his mother is Katherine McDore; but McG is, as always, full of surprises."

Hermione didn't reply, her eyes having landed and subsequently remaining upon Minerva as her friends spoke about the dancing couple, most not realizing the irony of their comments. She watched as Minerva's face lit up at something Percival remarked upon, and Hermione's own lips twitched upwards. It was so wonderful to see Minerva, happy. Something rarely seen over these past 6 months; and something she found herself wanting to see more of.

The song ended, and Percival broke away and bowed; his words carrying over to Hermione and her friends. "Thank you."

"She doesna get off that easy." Rory stepped onto the dance floor, parting from Filius. "I shall be gettin' a dance this evenin' from my sister." He nodded to the lead chair, "If I canna beg just one more song from your weary fingers?"

"See what you started?" Minerva chided to her son as the maestro nodded.

Rory purposefully held out his hand as the orchestra started another song, and Hermione felt a pang of envy pulse through her as long fingers fell into his and he pulled her close.

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xoxo

* * *

"Do you care to Tango?" Rory asked, knowing that Minerva loved to Tango and would never do so with her son; and probably hadn't since the last time they had in over six years.

Feeling jubilant and body pumped full of potions and whisky Minerva found herself acquiescing, "I'd hate to see this beautiful music go to waste."

Rory laughed as they moved their mid-sections closer and held the other's arms outward and their hips moving in-sync as they strode across the floor. "It has been a lovely party, Minerva."

"Thank you for coming." Minerva replied.

He spun her away, arms opening up and his smile broadened as her long ebony hair flew about her milky shoulders and contrasting velvet dress as the gown molted about her body until she paused and opened her body in response and pulled him to her, "I wouldn't have missed it," He slid his leg forward and felt hers mirror his backwards, "for the world."

"I'm glad." Minerva answered as she took a step forward and they both let go of the other's arms and hands encircled the others' neck; bringing them closer still.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

George couldn't help but swallow at watching how Rory was dancing with McG. To say he was turned on by how his lover was moving his body around the elder witch was an understatement as he pictured himself where she was.

He felt himself bottom out the last of his dragon ale as Rory grasped McG by the base of the neck and she he as they somehow became closer. "Damn they can dance." He couldn't help but breathe out.

"Why don't you know how to dance like that?" Ginny asked Harry as the dance partners moved backwards.

"I don't know anyone who can dance like that, save for perhaps the McDores." Molly stated in disbelief at her long time friend as she brought Rory's head downward towards her breasts.

"You have to wonder if that's her husband." Percy remarked, causing several disbelieving looks to barely yank themselves from the provocative dance as Minerva pushed Rory away and separating their bodies by a few meters. "Just saying."

"They aren't." George replied in unison with Harry and Hermione causing the latter two to turn to George in question. "He called her his sister." George quickly covered his remark, thankful for his quick thinking but Hermione's gaze lingered and from his remarks two days prior, and from the sparkle beginning to shine behind her chocolate eyes he knew she had just confirmed what he couldn't admit to. Thankfully, she returned her gaze back to the scintillating couple and he felt his groin pull as Rory draped his leg around McG's and he shifted his posture thankful that he had worn his looser robes and pants.

"Well, I have to say that after tonight and seeing her outside of Hogwarts," Charlie's tone held a delectably soft cadence, "and the way she dances, there's only one other woman who I'd pursue first."

Even George and Hermione found their gazes pulled from the dance to stare at his brother and her friend respectively as the other dozen eyes in the group fell to Charlie.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he continued on, "In every way imaginable and I've been trying to work up the nerve since your birthday and if you are willing, I'd very much like to court you."

"Charlie, she…" George's hand shot out and gripped his mother's upper arm like a vice as he turned to his friend whose brown eyes had just gone to the size of saucers at the proclamation and the group of people surrounding her.

Hermione was dumbstruck as she stared at Charlie and tried to fathom what to say and how she felt about the startling revelation; and it wasn't until the fourth time she blinked that she realized her mouth was still hanging open. "I…ah…" Her gaze swept from Charlie to George, the grip he had upon his mother to keep her quiet as she decided and it was obvious what Molly thought of the notion, still harboring hope that she and Ron would make up and eventually re-marry; to Harry and Ginny and Percy, to Seamus, and as she scanned over to Luna and Neville, her eyes strayed to the dance floor and her heart stopped at the sight.

Minerva's leg was draped over Rory's hip, their bodies pressed together as he swung her about the dance floor and the elated expression adorning normally stoic milky features. There was no denying it; she was unequivocally and utterly captivating. Her gaze had returned to Charlie as the brief image of Minerva and Rory burned in her mind, "Can't Charlie. Not now." She found herself saying, truly heartfelt. As there was a time she would have acquiesced to the notion, as he would have been the one Weasley she would have risked destroying her relationship with Ron for; but not now. "There's too much between Ron and I already, and this would destroy the scant bridge that remains between us and has to for our children's sake."

Charlie leaned forward kissing her cheek, "Had to ask."

"I'm glad you did," she whispered in response, ensuring there was no awkwardness left between them before lifting her gaze back to the dance floor; the group following suite as Rory and Minerva danced like lovers across the room.

_Because,_ she silently continued on as the final cord struck and Minerva dipped her entire body backwards, Rory bracing her lower back as her hair trailed along the floor,_ I wouldn't have realized or perhaps taken even longer for me to have realize that I already have feelings for someone else._

She raised her hands and began clapping, everyone else joining in as Rory helped Minerva stand upright; both bowing before kissing the other on the cheek. Hermione's gaze remaining transfixed upon Minerva as her heart grappled with the reality of her thoughts not understanding the depth of the meaning or the complications or anything other than what it was feeling at the moment, deep affection.

Her clap faltered as her brain synthesized the meaning and the feeling as brown eyes blinked back a dam of emotion.

Her whole body became momentarily paralyzed as the translation took root and meaning flooded her thoughts.

_ She liked her._

_Oh dear heavens,_ she spun around and without looking back ran from the hall as her hand flew to her mouth. _No, no…_ she could feel the tears already spilling down her cheeks as she collapsed backwards against the wall, _this can't be happening._

She could hear the approaching footsteps and without thought, blinked a few more times to settle her stomach and swept to the den while calling for Bonnie.

Bonnie instantly appeared in the room as she moved with uncanny speed across the far too familiar furnishings and plunging her hand into the floo powder. "Can you please bring my children to Hogwarts?"

"Are you alright Madame Hermione? Do I need to fetch the Mistress?"

Bonnie asked gravelly concerned.

"No." Hermione's voice all but screeched, "I'll be fine. Fine. Can you please, just please not ask and bring the children to Hogwarts?"

Bonnie gave a solitary nod and Hermione didn't wait and snapped her hand the floo powder jumping into the fireplace and blue flames appearing as George rounded the corner.

"Hermione…"

And without waiting or explaining she retreated to her new home mind in disbelief. _How could this happen?_

* * *

_xoxo_

* * *

George blinked and stared at Bonnie, the lone other occupant in the room. "Is she alright?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing?" Bonnie retorted.

"Must have been my brother." George worriedly looked into the fading flames as an afterthought asked, "She left the children?"

Realizing his concern mirrored her own, went ahead and answered. "She asked that I bring them to her."

"If you can put a note in her rooms, and tell her I took them for the night; I'll get them to her in the morning." He tried to shake off the anger at his brother for his ill timed question which had deeply affected her; undoubtedly what she had to continue giving up for to keep a semblance of a family for his niece and nephew because of his dolt of a brother.

"As you did not arrive with them, I will have to ask the Mistress."

George took a step forward, "Please don't." He called out, "Hermione won't want others to know of what happened, especially McG. She doesn't want to let her down."

_Nor did she believe that the Mistress would rest easy if she knew Hermione was distraught, _Bonnie thought, merely nodding and agreeing. "Very well. When you leave, will you be returning to your apartment or Mast…"

"My apartment in London." George cut off, blue eyes pleading with golden orbs that she understood his meaning and not seek clarification.

Slowly Bonnie nodded, "upon your departure, five minutes later I shall bring the children to your apartment."

"Thank you." George smiled down at the oddly regal yet incredibly helpful house elf, "I'll go make my good-byes and leave shortly."

"As you wish." Bonnie replied wondering if that entailed a _night cap_ with Master Rory first or not.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I can't." Hermione muttered aloud as she egressed from the flames, and numbingly found herself standing in _her_ office.

At once the portraits came alive, asking and inquiring how the party was; but Hermione paid no heed as she fled from the room needing to put as much distance from herself and anything and everything about Minerva.

Less than three minutes later, she had reached the sanctity of her room and was sliding down the wall in utter and total disbelief.

_How could she not be?_

_ She had deep feelings for a woman. And not just any woman. But the most beautiful and intelligent woman she had ever met, who was decades her senior, had a family, a deceased husband for Merlin's sake…grandchildren…_

She felt hot tears renew their earlier path as they splashed onto her cheeks.

"Oh my God," she breathed out into the stillness of her room, as her heart seized with a fraction of the implications. _She had feelings for none other than the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Master of Transfiguration, etc…etc…as none of the rest of it matter. How could it? Because somewhere along the line she had begun to see the woman who held all those titles and countless more, none of which held a torch to the woman herself. The woman so few ever got to know. _"What am I going to do?" she gasped as she bit her lips to keep from spilling her secret aloud, not willing even to acknowledge the feeling out loud to herself as she grappled with the stark truth.

_ Somewhere along the line over the past several months she had begun to develop feelings for Minerva and those feeling had morphed into something that couldn't happen – but had. _

_ She fancied Minerva McGonagall._

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Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: It's electric..._

_We have now zoomed past the 1000 page marker…and as my beta recently stated after a lengthy conversation 'all the good stuff happens after Christmas'; so I don't presume the chapters are going to get shorter and updated any faster._

_(for those interested, used the Electric (Boogie) Slide song from itunes – by various artists, liked the double clap in it, obviously) _


	67. Chapter 64 December 22nd, 2009

**Chapter 64 ~ December 22****nd****, 2009 (Tuesday)**

It was with great slowness that Minerva moved towards the edge of her bed, her body on fire; especially her hip and back. She had overdone it to the nth degree yesterday. But the mere thought of last evening brought a smile to her face; _It had been worth it_.

She flipped the covers back, wincing as she sat upright. _Well, almost._

Her eyes narrowed at the parchment perched at the corner of her nightstand along with her glasses. _Undoubtedly the morning report,_ she mused not really wanting to read the happenings at Hogwarts and silently wishing for a day without having to worry about the minute details regarding the hallowed school. Not even bothering to reach for either the folded parchment or her glasses, they jumped into her hand obeying her summoning spell.

_ There were days that being a witch was superb; this morning was one of them_, she thought as she donned her glasses, the scrawled print instantly snapping into focus.

_Minerva –_

_ Elgin stated there was no news that needs to be relayed. He did ask that I inform you that all the professors who attended last eve safely returned._

_ Both Tessa and Percival wish to speak with you at some juncture this morning; Filius wished to relay that he did not hope to see you for the day at Hogwarts, Helena did send a howler regarding the volume of requests for your health records concerning the identities of your children (she did not seem pleased)._

A chuckle erupted from her lips, "I daresay not." Minerva remarked to herself as she continued reading.

_Breakfast will be a medley, and I have not put any potions out for you as you consumed far too many yesterday and with a fairly light schedule; pardon my presumptuousness but perhaps you can rest. _

_ In addition, Pierre will be here after breakfast for a massage._

_Bonnie_

Minerva re-read the last line, and shook her head at her diminutive friend. While she did not always agree with Bonnie's methodology, she did have her best intentions in mind. It had been several months since her last massage; she scanned the top line, and if Filius could manage Hogwarts for the day, she stretched backward feeling her muscles strain and protest; she could certainly use a massage. Besides, there wouldn't many days she'd be able to indulge in such frivolous behavior for herself.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Come…" Rose pulled on George's hand. "You gotta help Uncle George."

George tried not to look at the clock as he cracked open his eye; and realized that his niece was indeed up at some forsaken time. He could have sworn he had just gone to bed, and at seeing the dais of the clock realized that it had indeed only been two hours ago that he had finally gone to sleep.

_ Granted, it wasn't her fault_; he thought mumbling that he was indeed coming despite wanting to remain ensconced within his bed as memories of what he had done after leaving McG's party flittered across his mind and why he had gotten so little sleep.

Rory had arrived at his apartment shortly after he had left McG's…and been adamantly passionate well into the early hours of the morning as their whispers and moans were dampened by silencing spells so as to not wake Rose and Hugo. His body still humming from their night and his highlander's passion.

George's lips curled into a smile at the possessive though, _his highlander._

Summoning a robe, he pushed himself upright and slipped it on as he ran a hand through his unruly hair before stumbling out into his living room. And stopped.

The children had moved his dining room table and chairs and pushed part of his chesterfield in an obvious attempt to make a large open space.

"You've been busy this morning," he stated suddenly feeling marginally more awake.

"We need," Rose tried pushing the chesterfield more, "you to help moves stuff."

"I thought breakfast would be a good place to start." George countered.

"Nopes," Hugo chimed in, "yours helps first."

Keeping his face poised, George crossed his arms as he leaned nonchalantly against the wall. "Why don't you tell me what you two are doing, and I'll see what I can do to help."

"Dance floor." Rose stopped trying to move the oversized piece of furniture in order to answer her quirky uncle. "We's are making a dance floor."

"We are," he corrected.

Rose nodded, "Yeah, so can you help?"

"Next thing you'll want is the music to the electric slide." George muttered in jest.

"How'd you know?" Hugo asked blinking up at him.

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Xoxo

* * *

"Whoever it is had better not be in here with another request for the Headmistress' records!" Helena snapped as Michael hesitantly peeked around the door.

"It's me," he stated not knowing if he should dare to step _into_ her office or not.

"If you're here for records, **don't **come in." She proclaimed causing Dily's to tsk at her.

"Do you think I'd be that foolish?" Michael questioned as he stepped around the last of his cover.

"No." Helena didn't bother looking up, scowl still entrenched upon her face as she flipped to the next status report.

"Pretty roses," he tried causing her to barely glance upwards and blue eyes slid to the gorgeous bouquet of three dozen red and green roses, "from Harold?"

"Minerva by way of apologizing for the agony she damn well knows I'll be going through for the next year." She continued muttering on, and Michael barely caught the chuckle lest she hear it. "If she truly felt sorry, she'd part with one of her blasted bottles of whisky. Flowers…" She fixed his gaze with hers, "Now, what in blazes did you come in here for? As I know the whole of St. Mungos would rather catch a case of Hungarian flu than have to come and talk to me; and as it's…" She glanced to the clock and back, "Just after nine, I'm sure you've heard."

"I have." Michael succinctly stated, "And I believe the volume of requests searching for Minerva's children have already begun to wane."

"Bloody well time," Helena quipped. "What the hell was she thinking last night?"

"I don't know," Michael couldn't contain the smile any longer from breaking across his face, "but I have to say that it's bloody awesome."

"Oh, no. Not you too." Helena leaned back in her chair pulling her glasses off by the arm as she gazed into her soon to be protégé's eager face. "For the love of Merlin, please tell me you that you aren't getting caught up in this nonsense."

He didn't know what was more precious, seeing his boss this flabbergasted or that her dearest friend had openly admitted to having children last night to a banquet full of people; at least that is what he read this morning across the front page of the Prophet. The two had always been so incredibly private regarding their respective lives; and it had taken him years of knowing and working with her to know that she and Harold had a daughter; and only a few short months ago had he learned that they were bound. As for the Headmistress, her care had been solely relegated to Helena for goodness knew how long; and even that was supposition as there was no file on record with her name on it at St. Mungos.

He knew. He had checked on countless occasions over the years; even after the incident of being stunned multiple times in the chest and hospitalized here for several days, there was no record in the main record depository. From the dearth of records to be found at St. Mungos he was assured there would be none to be found at Hogwarts either. "No," he shook his head, "I'm not getting caught up in it." He stated causing an audible sigh to leave her only to be followed by a sharp twist of her lips as he continued on, "I've been curious for decades."

Helena stared at him for a long moment, "Is that why you really came up here?"

"No," he answered honestly, "but I couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"Why are you here?" she donned her glasses, not having the heart to battle him too as she pulled her sheaves of parchment to her. She'd save her anger for the person who had ultimately caused her headache; her dearest and most trusted friend that she had known for over seventy-five years, the woman who had been her maid of honor at her wedding, the woman who had stood by her as she had two children and buried one, the woman whose life she had saved more than once and had saved hers, the woman who truly understood what it meant to be bound to someone and all the complexities involved, the woman who had saved her daughter's life, the woman who was her opposite – her counter-weight that brought balance, Minerva Katherine fucking McGonagall-Dumbledore.

"Lockhart." The singular word causing her shoulders to droop and eyes to once again meet his over the rim of her glasses. "He's not been sleeping for more than an hour at a time."

"I don't recall the scans showing any abnormalities in the brain." Helena stated.

"Tests came back fine," Michael pulled the shrunken chart from his pocket, handing it over. "All the tests have come back fine; save for a small amount of protein in his blood and his inability to sleep for any length of time."

"Sleep draught?" Helena reached forward.

"Hasn't helped, and the guy's been through so much that…"

"I know," Helena interjected as she flipped open the file and skimmed the latest sets of tests. "Seems as though his memory continues to return," she softly stated as she flipped back a page, "and there are oft times a correlation between decreased sleep patterns and memory recall. Begin charting all his food and liquid intake; and we'll see how he is this next week. Also, increasing the draught by .25 and see if that helps."

"I was going to recommend a dreamless draught just so he can get some sleep."

"Not quite yet, his body is still healing and I don't want to give him a dreamless draught and risk a relapse in losing his memory."

"And when he asks if he can leave after the first of the year?"

"Merlin do I hope the answer is yes," she handed the file back which he took while standing up.

"How many children does she have?" he asked reverting back to their previous conversation.

Helena moved forward pulling a quill into her fingers, obviously ignoring his question.

"Grandchildren?" His mouth quirked upwards as he watched her stop reading, "Are they friends with yours?"

"She has lost two children over the years and two are still alive and well; and yes our grandchildren play together." The quill began moving again and just as he opened his mouth she continued on, "And if you ask another question before leaving, you'll be on latrine duty for the next month. Now go."

"Thank you," he stated and as he stepped through the door he peeked his head back in, "You know," he waited to make sure she could hear him, "If she didn't want people to know, she wouldn't have said it."

He never saw the spell, and didn't need to as he jerked his head back just in time, the door slamming shut merely centimeters from his nose.

"Told you." Jayne glanced up from her stack of notes she had yet to transcribe, "She wasn't in a good mood with the whole request for information thing regarding the Headmistress."

Michael turned around, "She's in a balmy mood," at her exasperated look he elaborated, "Well not about the records thing, but otherwise, she's her typical satirical self."

"Easy for you to say," Jayne muttered as her eyes slid past Michael to the door, "I just received an executive order from the Auror department regarding those very records."

Even Michael made a bit of a face at her comment, "You might want to ask the department to send an Auror to deliver that message."

"Already did." A look of dread filling her face, "they say they can't spare anyone."

"I'd go ahead and wait for a few minutes if I were you." Michael said as he strode out of the Administrator's office a light bounce to his step as he rolled the number around in his head; _four, though only two are alive and well._

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione rolled over feeling like the waking dead; and wishing she were as the reality of her epiphany came rushing to the forefront.

_She fancied Minerva. _Tears pricked the inside corner of her eyes as she threw back the covers, mind trudging forward with the very real notion that the sun was up and she hadn't heard from her children. Clearing her throat, she called out as she sat up. "Rose, Hugo." And wiped her eyes with the back of her hand while blinking at the clock, not believing it was almost 9:30.

She saw the folded note and opened it,

_Hermione,_

_ After your departure last evening, George Weasley asked and please forgive me, I let him take your children home with him. We were both concerned from the way you left, he stated it had to do with his brother._

_ Again my apologies, but we thought you could use the night and subsequent morning without the children._

_ Bonnie_

Swallowing her pride, she set down the paper not needing to read it a second time; knowing who George was referencing and wishing it was that simple. _If only it were,_ she thought as she stood and walked from her rooms into the living suite.

Milksy had already stoked the fire, as the stone floor was warm and embers kindled beneath the hearty fire.

Walking forward, she grabbed a pinch of floo and would deal with the first of her issues this morning before dwelling on the far more reaching and overriding one that she didn't know how she was going to cope with.

"George Weasley," she called out as she knelt down.

"It's mum!" The children screeched above the music.

"Whoa, little ones," George picked the two up, one in either arm as he knelt by the fire. "Just waking up love?"

"Not long ago," Hermione admitted, "How's it going?"

Rose answered before he had an opportunity, "Great! He's moved his furniture and we's been dancing."

"We have." Hermione and George chorused causing her to smile.

"Yeah." She went to breeze by again, but stopped at her mother's look. "We have been dancing."

"Thank you, dear." Hermione stated, "And what have you been dancing too?"

"Eclectwic slide," Hugo's exuberant answer causing a chuckle to burst from his mom.

"You both have Uncle George helping you?"

"Yes." The chorused again.

"How's he doing?"

"Alright, but he's not as good as Aunt Minerva." Rose stated as natural as breathing.

Hermione's voice caught at the sentiment and she pushed onward, "I was calling to see if you could drop the children off with your brother this morning; as Ron is to have them till late Christmas Eve."

"Sure, love." Despite the broken features displayed across the embers, he could tell her countenance was still troubled. "Why don't you two go restart the song and I'll see if I can do better this time?"

"Yea! Bye mum!" They bolted back into the other room, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

"Are you alright?" He asked, "I can't believe Charlie…"

Hermione cut him off, "it doesn't have to do with Charlie, George." She held up her hand to forestall his obvious question. "And no, I do not want to talk about it."

"You know I'm here if you need me."

"Same goes," she retorted, "And you are by taking Rose and Hugo to Ron's."

"That isn't what I mean."

"I know, but…I can't talk about it right now." She leaned back, the features of her face becoming opaque.

"But you're alright?"

Hermione inwardly chuckled at how alright she was and wasn't all at the same time. "Yeah," she finally stated, "I will be."

"Then I'll see ya this week." George wanted to make sure to get a commitment from her, still worried.

Despite everything being topsy turvey in her life, her curiosity remained. "Only if you tell me what's going on with you and Minerva's dance partner last evening."

George hesitated not really wanting to talk about he and Rory, but swallowed his reservations. "I'll tell you what I've been up to, if you can meet me for breakfast on Sunday. My treat."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva let her thoughts drift as Pierre's hands continued kneading and working out far too stiff muscles across her shoulders, mid and lower back. She noticed that he was careful along her left side; undoubtedly avoiding her latest scar that while healed still remained tender to the touch.

He spent a proportionately long time along her left side, beginning to work the tightly wound muscles of her lower back and down into her hip.

"You have stressed it far too much of late." He remarked as he cast a cooling spell on his hands to counter the heat burning across the tips of his fingers from the swollen and displaced muscles of her joint.

"So I've been reminded." Minerva muttered into the table as she tried to remain relaxed.

"Mother." Tessa called out as she stepped from the fireplace, drawing to an abrupt halt at seeing her mother lying face down upon a table with a sheet doubled up and draped over her waist, a man standing on the other side glancing up. "Oh…" she took a step back realizing that her mother was in the middle of a massage, "I'm sorry, I'll come back later."

Minerva turned her head, narrowing her eyes to enable her to see her daughter. "Nonsense," she clipped. "What is it?"

Tessa glanced from her mother to the man and back, "It can wait."

"You're sure?" Minerva asked, and Tessa was already reaching into the floo powder.

"I just wanted to thank you again for last night." She snapped her wrist, "Hope the massage helps your hip."

"As do I." Minerva laid her head back down as her daughter vanished in the flames. "Bonnie."

"Yes, Mistress." Bonnie appeared on the wrong side of the table and quickly walked around.

"I thought you had closed the floo." Minerva remarked, eyes drifting close again as Pierre's fingers pressed along her I-band.

"To all but your family and Hogwarts."

"Can you…" Minerva's voice caught at the sheer sensitivity of her thigh, "close it to all but Hogwarts?"

"At once." Bonnie replied and was gone in a flash, not able to watch her Mistress wince from the pain in her leg.

Minerva vainly tried to think of something, anything other than the way his fingers seemed to be pressing a thousand needles into her skin. The first image coming to mind was of her dancing, and it caused a semblance of comfort but her heart caught as her partner's face caught the light – Hermione.

She jerked despite her intentions.

"Are you alright?" Concern lacing Pierre's thick cadence.

"Yes," she heard herself say as she laid back down, "it is rather sore."

"I gathered." Pierre whispered a spell and Minerva felt a sudden rush of heat encompass her leg, hip and back. "Let me see if a bit of heat will help relax the muscle while I work on your calf."

Minerva mutely nodded, knowing that he'd understand her gesture and she focused on calming her heart and trying once again to conjure a peaceful memory. Her thoughts drifted to times with Albus of warm evenings by the fire, lazy afternoons as they walked around the lake, summers spent along the bluff with the wind in their faces, and as her guard slipped so did the memory as she leaned back, listening to _her_ laugh as they finished a game of chess.

Minerva blinked, and was about to tell Pierre that as much as he may be helping; this was not a good idea for today. She wasn't able to appropriately relax, and perhaps he could come back next week. However, the fire roared to life again and while she expected to see her Deputy step through the flames, butterflies seemingly fluttered in her stomach as the woman she had just been thinking about emerged from the fireplace.

"Oh," Hermione abruptly halted as she absorbed the scene, "I…" Her immaculate vocabulary synthesized down to singular syllable words as she desperately tried to focus on Minerva's face and not her body, "Came for him," she shook her head at her own foolishness, "Filius asked if I could get you a handful of documents that the Ministry sent over."

"Please forgive me, if I don't get up." Minerva quipped and relaxed her head back on the table. "Just set the papers on the table, I'll read them shortly."

"He seemed to think that you would be more inclined to incinerate them, but…" She set them down, a smile pulling at lips; "If you'd rather read them, you are _the Headmistress_."

Minerva groaned, "Don't remind me." However, her curiosity almost immediately got the better of her, "Dare I inquire as to what they are asking?"

Hermione glanced from Minerva back to the small booklet, "No idea. Filius asked if I could floo over," she shrugged while turning to Minerva, "he said that you'd be more inclined to remain away if he stayed and someone else brought the Ministry's trite."

"It's probably better not to know." Minerva closed her eyes, "Or I'll never relax."

Hermione lost the battle and let her eyes scan along Minerva's long, milky form moments after emerald eyes closed. From the events over the past several months, she had seen the woman before her in rare but various states of undress however, never as she had now. Prior times had been due to high stress events, namely the Huckbar and finding Minerva practically frozen; and while she knew and had visual markers to confirm her lithe and toned form, it was nothing compared to the picture before her – Minerva was lying face down, legs slightly apart as the masseuse slid down her calf and back up, a doubled-up sheet covering her waist and the dip of her lower back, leaving the taunt lines of her shoulders exposed and she felt her eyes slow as they skimmed up her side and along with the swell of her breast; and Hermione found herself yanking her eyes back to Minerva's face. "Then I should be going as well," she mentally chastised herself for letting her eyes wonder. _I am being ridiculous_, _and acting like a Hogwart's student._

"You left suddenly last night," Minerva tipped her head enough to see Hermione without too much strain as she blinked opened her eyes, she had been hoping to speak with Hermione before she had departed last evening. "Everything well?"

Hermione numbly nodded, "Yeah," she finally managed, "Just something Charlie asked and…" she didn't want to continue because either way she was damned, either telling Minerva that the question prompted her to evaluate her own feelings which ultimately led to the unsettling realization that she was attracted to Minerva or she lie. "It really doesn't matter."

Minerva shifted, pulling her arms up onto the table, to her sides and she pushed herself upright enough to gaze at the younger woman. "Of course it does."

"No," Hermione met the warm, inviting gaze, "not anymore." She found herself threading the line between the lie and truth; "I realized last night, that…while I love Ron; always will, I am no longer in love with him. And I don't think I can be involved with another Weasley for a while."

Minerva's throat became dry, "Charlie asked you out last evening?"

Hermione took a step closer, "In front of everyone and I couldn't, not without risking losing what remains of Ron's and my relationship and then Rose and Hugo will suffer; not counting that Molly is still harboring hope that we'll reconcile."

"And if he hadn't asked you out with half the Weasley family and several friends around, would you have said yes if you both could have gone out in relative anonymity? As your stated reasoning is dictated by what others will feel based on your actions versus your own feelings."

"It's too soon." Hermione reached for a chair, feeling odd at continuing to stand and having Minerva twist to meet her gaze. "Mind?"

"Please." Minerva answered, "Too soon, to go out with Charlie?" Minerva heard herself quietly ask.

Hermione caught the edge of the chair with her left hand to keep from falling, shocked at Minerva's directness. "I just think it's too soon to know what I want." Hermione stated as she slid to the center of the seat.

"Are you alright?' Minerva inquired as she laid her head back on the table.

"I'm fine," Hermione stated. "Boot caught on my robe." _Boot caught on my robe? What the hell? I'm turning into Ron. _She inwardly grimaced at the horrid thought, careful to keep her face poised, _So much for just acting normal._

Minerva didn't respond to the odd comment, silently wondering why Hermione seemed out of sorts this morning; undoubtedly it stemmed from the situation with not only Charlie but Ron. "Give it a little time, Hermione. From what you have told me, it has been a tumultuous year."

"That it has," Hermione readily agreed, "and I plan too." At the questioning gaze flittering across Minerva's brow she elaborated, "Give myself a little time, and sort through what it is I want," Her voice dropped a half octave as she finished, "And with who, as I also have to think of my children."

The mere thought of Rose and Hugo caused a sparkle to flash behind emerald eyes, "Your children will be fine with whatever you decide; they love and trust you unconditionally."

"That's what worries me."

"How so?"

"What if the person I care for…" The words stymied for a moment as she stared at Minerva, and she found herself forcing them out. "Doesn't like the children?"

"How could you think that?" A tender expression washing over Minerva's features, "Rose and Hugo are intelligent, caring, well mannered, beautiful children who enrich all the lives they," Minerva winced as Pierre pressed into her hip, "Touch."

"Minerva?"

"My hip," a tremble lining her voice. "You needn't worry."

Hermione's eyes flashed to Pierre whose face was blank and eyes closed, "From the look upon your face a moment ago and the tremble in your voice, I'd wager otherwise."

"It'll be fine." Minerva countered closing her eyes to keep from divulging how uncomfortable her hip was.

"I should go and let you…"

"Minerva's hip is significantly inflamed, the muscles are stressed and undoubtedly the area is exceptionally tender." Pierre opened his eyes to glance to the other occupant currently in the room. "I've been trying to get the area to calm down a bit to work it out; and your conversing with her has helped her relax. So, if it is alright with you Minerva, and you Ma'am; I'd prefer if you stayed for another twenty minutes."

"Fine," Minerva's voice clipped, "just please release the pressure points you are currently on." Emerald eyes opened to see brown ones staring at her, "That is of course, if you have time."

Hermione could think of a hundred other things she should be doing, including finishing her Christmas shopping, but she found herself nodding. "No problem," she heard herself say as she readjusted herself on the seat. She glanced to Pierre who had once again closed his eyes and then back, "I take it your hip is bothering you this morning?"

"Yes." Minerva didn't offer any additional information.

"It seemed fine last evening."

"That's because…" She closed her eyes again, the tenor in her voice becoming strained to remain level. "I drank several pain potions."

"Several? As in more than two?" Hermione countered.

"Yes."

"Minerva there are guidelines and…."

"I've been taking two potions daily for months, Hermione." Minerva openly admitted as her mouth twitched, "Take heart in knowing that Helena, Poppy, Bonnie and Elgin religiously remind me of the guidelines; and Bonnie would not give me one this morning because of the volume I had yesterday, hence my appointment with you Pierre."

"It has been too long." He rumbled as he shifted the placement of his fingers causing the muscles along her left side to convulse, "Stay relaxed."

"I'm trying." Minerva murmured.

"How many?"

Minerva blinked open her right eye to see a troubled countenance and worried brown eyes. "Four."

"That does explain the state of your hip today." Pierre stated aloud.

"Three is too many, four…"

"My hip is degenerating, and for me to partake in a dance or many of the activities I enjoy; I have to seek less than optimal alternatives."

Again, Hermione wondered why the woman before her pushed so hard. "Then don't dance." Hermione's whisper was a mix of a plea and statement.

Minerva thought back to how many dances she did partake in, and could only come up with five for the evening. A short one with Arthur to start the festivities following the meal; the electric slide, which hardly constitutes as a 'dance'; one with Percival, one with Rory, and one with Harold after everyone had left. "For most of the year I don't, besides I won't let a little discomfort today ruin a marvelous evening yesterday."

"You are in far more than a little discomfort."

Pierre chuckled, "She may have a point Minerva. I, too wonder why you have stressed your body as much as you have? Your joint was all but locked up."

_Because in a few months, it is a moot point and I wish my friends and family a lasting memory – one of happiness._ Minerva honestly answered, in thought at least. "I shall endeavor to slow down, even if it is only marginally."

"Well, I don't think I need any more dance lessons." Hermione softly commented, wishing that were not the case as she was nothing short of a marvelous dancer; but from the extent of discomfort Minerva was in, it was an obvious decision.

For innumerable reasons, Minerva agreed; save for the one that mattered. Hermione wasn't quite ready, and despite the personal and physical discomfort she needed to work with her on at least one more movement and if fate smiled favorably perhaps two. "You are not that lucky." Minerva countered, "As I shall rest this next week, and then we will continue with your training."

Hermione didn't know whether to be elated or utterly anxious at the notion, "I'll work with Neville."

"Indubitably," Minerva quipped, "and Filius, but do not discount that I shall…" Minerva's face pinched, "that is rather sore, Pierre."

"…and warm." He finally commented not removing his hands.

From the open familiarity between Pierre and Minerva; it was obvious that he had been her masseuse for some time. "How long have you known each other?" Hermione asked hoping to pull Minerva's attention away from her discomfort.

"A long time." Minerva visibly relaxed as he finally shifted, "Late 50's I suppose."

Pierre merely nodded at Hermione as he began up the left side of her back again before moving towards her hip area; obviously trying to loosen the whole area.

"Have you finished your shopping?" Minerva questioned her body finally relaxing beneath his expert hands, the tenderness along her hip beginning to abate.

"There are a few items I still have to purchase for the children, along with a handful of the professors and pick yours up."

"Please, don't get anything for me." Minerva stated, not wishing the young woman to spend any money on her when in a few short months; she'd be dead. "I have all that I need."

"Perhaps, but you may not have all that you want." Hermione's lips curled upwards at the look of mild annoyance, "Come, can you tell me that you have bought me nothing for Christmas?" From her lack of answer, Hermione knew that Minerva had already bought something for her for Christmas. "So, why do you think others would not buy you something in return?"

Minerva couldn't counter her argument without divulging what could not be divulged; and so she didn't try. "I look forward to our exchange."

While slightly taken back by the whole sidestep of her question, she couldn't stop her minute grin from turning into a full fledge smile at Minerva's remark. "As do I."

"Are Rose and Hugo going to be with you on Christmas or with Ronald?"

"I pick them up on Christmas Eve from Ron and then on Christmas, we'll be at the Burrow and then my parents for dinner. And you? Will you be with your children?"

"I shall see them on Christmas." Minerva obliquely answered, not wanting to share her plans; as they had been the same for decades. A quiet Christmas at Hogwarts with Albus, however, this year would be like the last several and while hard to cope; it would also be their last.

"But not for dinner." Hermione caught the partial dodge.

"That is what tomorrow evening is for." Minerva remarked as Pierre moved to stand above her head and began massaging her shoulders and neck.

"I…" Hermione had thought it was a smaller dinner reserved for friends, not Minerva's family Christmas dinner. "Am sorry, I thought…I don't have to come tomorrow evening. I don't want to intrude."

A gentle smile fluttered across Minerva's features, eyes remaining close. "It is for family and," She emphasized the and before continuing, "friends. As for my children, I'll see them both, as I always do on Christmas Eve."

"What about Christmas Day?"

"I have plans." She succinctly stated, giving absolutely no indication as to what they were; perking Hermione's curiosity.

"With Helena and Harold?"

"No."

"Rory?"

"If you must know, Albus and I have always celebrated it; and I continue to honor that tradition."

Hermione's lips formed an O as she blinked at Minerva, speechless. Several seconds went by as she grappled with the unthinkable, _after all – Dumbledore had died, what thirteen years ago; why would she still celebrate by herself, with him?_ "You," Hermione stifled her own clumsiness, "If you'd like, you are more than welcome to join me and my family for dinner. The children would love to see you."

Despite herself, Minerva found the offer moderately appealing and quickly answered as she should. "I thank you for the offer, dear; but I am quite comfortable with my current plans."

"If something changes -" Hermione let her voice trail off.

"Then I would let you, along with Helena and my children know." Minerva tenderly remarked.

Hermione nodded more to herself than to Minerva as the elder woman's eyes were closed; the stress ebbing away from the lines of her face and Hermione found words falling out without thought. "You look more relaxed."

"I am." Minerva thickly responded. "It helps that Pierre has moved away from my hip."

"Then, I'll let you rest as I need to go to Diagon Alley."

"Thank you for staying." Minerva cracked her eye open.

"I'll see you at dinner this evening." Hermione slid the chair to its rightful place.

"Doubtful, as I'll be staying at the Manor this evening."

Hermione was saved from having to immediately respond as Pierre interjected. "Then you must decide what floor you wish to be at this evening, you _must_ rest your hip."

"Looks like you'll be living on the first floor." Hermione light-heartedly stated.

"She will be relegated to the third floor." Bonnie commented as she appeared beside Pierre handing him a fresh towel and placing a new glass of water on a table upon the other side of the massage table. "And good morning to you Madame Hermione."

Hermione noted the odd formalness in Bonnie's tone, "And to you, Bonnie. Dare I ask why the third floor?"

"She can still access the library and her living quarters."

"We'll see." Minerva retorted, "As this is still _my_ house."

"Yes it is, but if you feel inclined to traverse the steps many times today, please let me know so I may ask Helena over for dinner." Bonnie stated before disappearing.

Hermione could only imagine the underlining exchange between Bonnie and Minerva, and while curious, she wasn't _that _curious. "I hope, wherever you end up, you manage some rest today."

"I shall try," Minerva replied, "and thank you for delaying your shopping to visit for a short while."

"My pleasure." Hermione inwardly cringed at her comment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Till then." Minerva didn't bother to keep her eyes open, and she could hear Hermione take the handful of steps back to the fireplace, a rustle of her robes, and a momentary pause before she heard the flames change and Hermione's distinct dialect state, _'Diagon Alley'_ before the roar of the fire came to life. She felt, relaxed – peaceful; and while she didn't want to acknowledge why, she let the feeling wash over her and sleep easily came.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione stared down at the pictures she had taken from Adam's home as she sipped another measure of wine. _I should have suspected then, _she thought eyes fixed upon the one with Minerva and Victoria. She looked as she did last evening, light. Carefree.

_Otherwise, why would I have taken these? It's not as though I gave them to her, however, perhaps I should. I don't have a right to…them…_

Hermione swallowed as her eyes ran down the line of Minerva's neck; memorizing the gentle curl of her lips, the sparkling hue of her eyes –

_How could I have not seen what was coming?_

_ Perhaps it is merely because I've been spending too much time with her and in her presence._

And she found herself taking another deep swallow of her wine.

_ An attraction based upon lack of alternative options. _She nodded at that thought, _Undoubtedly, that is the reason. _

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie discreetly closed the door, ears flat as Minerva and Albus' conversation became less cordial and more heated.

The muffled words still too clear for her liking and she raised her hands to cast a silencing spell.

_"I will not apologize for having a good time last evening."_

_ "I didn't ask you too."_

_ "Then why, in Merlin's beard, are you upset at me? Is it because I got some rest these past two days?"_

_ "Rather the manner in which you got rest."  
_

The spell left her fingers blanketing out the growing exchange and she vanished at once. Her thoughts as troubled as their conversation as she decided where to go from here regarding the witch, Hermione Granger, and whether she should address it to Minerva.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed this superfluous day.  
_


	68. Chapter 65 December 23rd, 2009

**Chapter 65 ~ December 23****rd****, 2009 (Wednesday)**

_a/n: The expedient update below is a small token of my appreciation to the kinds words and messages. _**  
**

Hermione pulled out a fourth set of robes, "Nice but casual," she muttered as she held the sapphire robes up.

"Or will she and the rest of the family be dressed as they were the other night?" she asked herself reaching into her wardrobe to pull out a festive green dress.

"And why am I even going?" she threw the dress on her now buried bed, staring at the versatile selection and sighing. _This was supposed to be the easy part of the night, _she thought running a hand through her suddenly unruly hair.

It seemed as if anything and everything she had tried to do today was a reminder of this evening; from breakfast this morning and Filius' subtle remark that he and Pomona were looking forward to conversing with her in a more relaxed atmosphere to Minerva's letter inquiring if the children were coming.

At first, she had seriously considered getting them and having the additional buffer present this evening; but then realized it would negate her ability to keep the evening short. And, while she would like for them to attend, she also didn't want to have another row with Ron; especially about Minerva and definitely not today of all days.

She stared at her choices and found herself reaching for another dress, still not satisfied with any of the ones lying on her bed. "Milksy," she called out.

"Yes, Miss Hermione?" the light skinned house elf appeared at the end of her bed.

"The dinner Minerva has with her family prior to Christmas, what type of dress do people usually wear? Dress robes? Dresses?"

Milksy turned to the bed and the voluminous amounts of clothing scattered across it. "I have never known you'se to not understand…is you'se well?"

_Not today._ "I was merely hoping you'd know if Minerva's family typically dresses up or not for this evening?"

"The red dress wills do just fine, Miss Hermione."

_Dress up,_ Hermione thought eyeing the article of clothing in her hand. _Which means Minerva…_ she stopped the thought immediately, "Thank you Milksy."

"I'se you be needing anything else?"

_Multiple stiff drinks and a rock solid excuse why I suddenly can't attend this evening, _"Not that I can think of."

"You'se wills have a good times this evening. You'se needn't fret," Milksy smiled at her reassuringly, "you'se always have a good time with the Mistress."

And in a flash, Hermione was thankfully alone as she answered. "That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, debating on how to wear her hair this evening. Part of her thought of pulling it up as usual; but a small albeit vocal part wanted to wear it down.

The part _attracted _to Hermione. The part that she was slowly losing to, and if she were truthfully honest with herself, she already realized she had lost to. She began running a brush through her hair, intent to put it in a soft French twist; but she found herself stopping as she stared at her reflection.

"What am I doing?" she whispered, tears prickling her eyes as she fought the wave of emotion down; knowing that Albus would 'feel' her. And at the thought of Albus, the inevitably ensuing argument, their bond, shaky fingers lifted her ebony strands and began twisting it into her bun. _I'm bound, _she thought as a tear slipped off her lash and down her cheek. _I'm a grown woman with children, grandchildren for Merlin's sake and am almost three times her age. _

But at seeing her hair pulled up, she let it go; rivulets falling back down and she swallowed, hard.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Jordan raised her hand to knock, but the door swung open and she along with her husband entered the fabled Manor, their children in tow. Bonnie was standing in the foyer, dressed in a long tartan skirt and white shirt with a piece of berry and holly pinned to her blouse.

"Good evening," her impeccable speech resonating against the wood floor, "the family will be gathering in the den and we will be eating within the hour."

Jordan took the children's cloaks as Matthew hung both his and his wife's upon the hangers; "I didn't have an opportunity to tell you the other night, the Manor looks lovely."

"Why are we eating here?" Samantha asked as she gazed about the spacious entry way, "I thought we were going to Nana's."

Bonnie's smile became broader at the comment, "This is her childhood home young Miss Samantha."

"Ohh," Samantha tipped her head upwards and unlike the other night; there were pictures of Nana and her family spread across the walls between the evergreen and holly. "Then why does she live at the other home? This one is - perfect." She pronounced as she met the elder house elf's gaze.

"Why don't you take Allison and Douglass to the den?" Jordan gently directed to their eldest daughter.

"Alright." Samantha nodded to the hallway, "Maybe Nana has the furniture moved so we can dance."

No further prompts were needed as the three children bolted down the hall, and Jordan only had to wait a moment to be alone with Minerva's head elf. "Mom's been really worried about Aunt Minerva, but she won't talk about it. How is she?"

Bonnie kept her face stoic, "Enjoying the holidays Madame Meaur."

Jordan knelt down, her flowing green dress pooling at about her as her blue eyes peered into golden ones. "Aunt Minerva has never had Christmas at the Manor which leads me to believe that she isn't well."

Bonnie took a half step forward, extending her hand out to Jordan and taking the kind witch's hand within her own, "Your mother is a very perceptive woman, as are you. Enjoy the holidays Jordan," she gently whispered squeezing her hand, "Life is short." Bonnie let her hand drop and stepped to the side a faint smile upon her lips, "Minerva is waiting."

Jordan remained unmoving for a hint of a second as she grappled with Bonnie's statement, pulling a smile to her lips as she blinked back the tears; before taking Matthew's hand. And with deliberate slowness she stood, giving herself time to pull her composure together.

After all it wasn't every day that you found out that one of the most notable woman in history, your mother's best friend, your dearest Aunt and a woman you loved without measure was not well; and from the solemn look in golden eyes, she feared Aunt Minerva's health was less than savory at best.

Vaguely she felt Matthew tighten his hold upon her arm as they walked the scant distance, and she forced her mind from the morose thoughts; intent upon enjoying the evening and she'd sort out the rest – very soon. She plastered a smile on her face as Matthew led them into the room, the smile easily becoming genuine as her eyes landed upon her Aunt.

"Hello." She said walking forward, arms extending outward; _she'd be speaking with her mother this week. _"You look, breath-takingly lovely."

"As do you," Minerva said while embracing her niece, noting that she held on for an extra few seconds.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory waved his hand, the door gently springing open to reveal Bonnie and the beautifully decorated Manor.

"Ahh, my beautiful lass." With ease he slipped off his cloak and hung upon the coat rack, "It 'tis even mor' breathtaking than before."

"Welcome home, Master Rory." Bonnie greeted, "Everyone is congregating in the den."

"And is Elgin joinin' ya this evenin'?" He questioned as he fixed his cuff link.

"He'll be along shortly."

Rory's smile widened, "Good ta hear."

"And your new friend was not able to attend?"

A hint sadness graced grey eyes, "Nah ta'night I'm afraid."

"Too many people." Bonnie easily guessed, knowing that his lover had been rather nervous upon meeting Minerva alone, let alone the rest of the family so to speak.

Rory nodded, leave it Bonnie to notice the little things; he was sure that she noted they arrived and left separately the day before yesterday. "At this point."

"He'll come around." Bonnie sagely stated, "Just give it time."

"Aye, I am." He knelt down giving her a kiss on the cheek, "Happy Christmas Bonnie; the Manor looks lovely."

"I am glad you approve," she said cheeks glowing.

"It 'tis good ta be home." He said moving away.

"Yes, it is." She replied, causing his spirits to lift higher still as he walked down the hall, hearing Jordan, Matthew, Tessa, Malcolm, Filius and Pomona along with the children as he rounded the doorway; but it was his sister who had captured his immediate attention.

Her sparkling eyes, flowing hair spilling across her shoulders in a beautiful soft braid, embroidered flowing ivory dress, and a vibrance emanating about her that he hadn't seen in near a decade.

She was radiant.

Breathtakingly so.

"'ello luv." He said breezing through the doorway, smile splitting across his face as he engulfed her in his arms.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Trembling fingers began pulling on her cloak, _One hour,_ she thought. _I can do this. Just say hello, visit, and when they sit down to dinner…_

"You'se was supposed to have left 15 minutes ago." Milksy said reaching out as she grasped Hermione's scarf. "I'se cannots helps clean with you'se here."

"I was running late." Hermione muttered as she slipped her second arm into her cloak.

"I'se don't know how's you'se late," Milksy muttered handing the Miss her scarf, "You'se been getting ready for over two hours."

"It's a woman thing." Hermione countered not willing to elaborate as she tied the scarf about her neck.

Milksy shook her head, "If you'se says so. You'se never lates before."

Hermione slipped her gloves on as she began walking towards her office and door, "No, can't say that I ever have been."

"Then…" Milksy furloughed her brows, "What is different that is causing you to be late?"

Hermione paused as her fingers rested on the handle, "Everything." She answered honestly before leaving a mystified house elf and founder's portrait gazing after her as she departed.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harold leaned forward but the door opened and they were greeted by a warm friend. "Good evening, Bonnie." He rumbled as he slipped his arm from Helena's.

"And to you Harold," she replied and nodded to his wife, "Helena."

Helena reached up, taking her cap off and handing it Harold; along with her mittens. "The temperature is dropping rapidly this evening," She slide her finger along the seam of her cloak and at once it split open.

"It is only to be -3 this evening," Bonnie commented, "The skies are clear and the wind is blowing from the north."

Harold helped Helena ease her heavy cloak off her shoulders, "Thank you dear." She said taking the thick material and tucking her mittens in the pockets before hanging it on the coat rack along with her cap.

Harold was already pulling his gloves off, Helena taking them as he unfastened his seam line and shrugged off his cloak. "Either way, it bodes for a cold winter."

Bonnie smiled at the couple, even after all these years; they were still so much in love. They reminded her of how the Mistress and Albus used to be. "We are to get a fresh snow tomorrow eve."

"A white Christmas." Harold fixed his suit jacket as Helena adjusted her dress.

"As all Christmas' should be." Bonnie remarked.

"Too true, Bonnie." Helena stated, "And how is Minerva today?"

Bonnie and she had long ago reached an accord regarding Minerva; truth, at all costs. "A bit tired, but doing far better than yesterday."

"I have no doubt." Helena ran a hand over her hair, wandlessly ensuring it fell back into place. "Four pain potions," she muttered, "it's a damn good thing she has you Bonnie."

"Love." Harold's voice breaking across Helena's, feeling her worry. "Let's just enjoy the evening. It's going to be hard enough."

Blue eyes met each others, and Bonnie's heart seized at the volume of emotion; "She does love you both very much." She found herself saying, "And she is very much looking forward to this evening."

Helena slipped her arm through Harold's, "As are we Bonnie." She gazed about the Manor, memories from her youth and early adulthood flooding back. "You have done a marvelous job with the Manor; it looks just as I remember it."

"Thank you, Helena." Bonnie beamed, "That is most kind."

"They are in the den?" Harold questioned and at Bonnie's nod they both began moving down the hallway. He paused just outside the doorway, leaning over giving her a gentle kiss; "It'll be alright." He whispered.

She tightened her grip on his arm, "I know." She murmured before entering the lively room and feeling the last of her doubts ebb away at seeing her jubilant best friend.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione gripped the cold metal, doubt sweeping through her veins. _She couldn't do this, not tonight and not right now._ She was about to close the gate when she heard a soft pop behind her. _Who could possibly be later than me? _She wondered and with a sense of dread turned around, assured she wouldn't be able to escape now.

"Ahh, Hermione." Percival stated as he and Audrey carefully walked forward, "How wonderful to see you."

Hermione genuinely smiled at the elder wizard and witch, "And you." She opened the gate and eased through holding it open for them, "I thought I was the last one to arrive."

"I've been moving a little slow," Audrey slowed down a bit, "The little one has been most unhelpful today."

"I remember those days," Hermione said as she closed the gate, "And can say that it does get easier."

Audrey's porcelain face smiled despite the fatigue prevalent in her face, "After all that we have gone through to have this child, I couldn't be happier." She gazed lovingly at her husband's profile, "Even when I've had morning sickness all day."

Hermione found herself liking the quiet woman, "Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"

"We've debated on the merits of learning before the birth." Percival paused as he met his wife's nodding gaze. _They had spoken through most of the night about it, finally deciding at just before dawn to go ahead; as they wanted his mother to know in case she didn't make it to their child's birth. _"And we were going to ask Aunt Helena tonight if she'd mind telling us."

"That's wonderful." Hermione stated and found her steps slowing. _She didn't belong here this evening. She didn't know these people; they were…_

"Hermione…" Percival and Audrey both chorused as they turned to gaze at the woman who stopped.

_Not her family. Who was she kidding?_ "Look," She took a step backwards shaking her head, "I don't know why I'm here or invited. And if you are going to be announcing this tonight; Minerva and Helena…family…" She glanced to Audrey then to Percival, "I couldn't be happier for you both, but this is a family night."

Blue eyes twinkled against the night as Percival moved towards her, "Mother invited you, Hermione." He reached out his hand, "Please." His cadence becoming thick and with a slight lilt, "We'd be honored if you'd join us this evening in celebration."

Hermione glanced from him to Audrey, "Are you sure I won't be intruding?"

Percival took her arm, "Nonsense." He wrapped her arm through his.

"Just don't listen to his sister this evening." Audrey quipped drawing a look from her husband.

"Darling, please." He murmured, "It's the Holidays."

"It is, but Tessa has been in a foul mood for weeks." Audrey rebuked.

"She has reason." Percival countered without giving an explanation.

"I'll just engross myself in a glass of Minerva's fine malt and try not to take up space."

Audrey's rich laugh echoed across the Manor, "Then you can have my glass and I'll keep you company."

"And where have I been relegated too?" Percival questioned.

"Entertaining your sister and keeping the peace because you do it so well." Audrey replied as the mounted the steps before the carved oak doors.

"It sounds as though your family dinners are interesting." Hermione commented as she reached forward.

Percival stated, "You have no idea." As the door opened revealing Bonnie smartly dressed waiting for the last of the arrivals.

"Good evening Master Percival, Madame Audrey and Madame Hermione." She stated as they entered.

"Bonnie." Percival tilted his head in respect, "Has dinner started?"

"The family is in the den enjoying a bit of frivolity before sitting down to eat."

"Good evening, Bonnie." Hermione stated as she took off her cloak and hung it up. "You have somehow managed to make the Manor look even more cheerful and filled with Holiday spirit since the day before yesterday."

"It is marvelous." Audrey commented as Percival helped her take her cloak off.

"How's mother today?" Percival asked as he hung up Audrey's cloak.

"Quite well." Bonnie replied, "The day of rest did her wonders."

"And was Rory able to make it?" Hope filled the wizard's question as his wife place her arm through his.

"He did." Bonnie succinctly answered.

"And his new lover?"

Hermione almost choked at the utter direct question posed to Bonnie and marveled at her stalwart gaze; she didn't even blink an eye at his query.

"No." Bonnie motioned for them to move to the den, "And you'll have to get any other information from him, Master Percival as you well know."

"It never hurts to try." Percival said, a grin breaking across his face.

"As incorrigible as ever." Bonnie ruefully quipped.

"Look who my family is." He retorted, "Now," He held out his other arm, for Hermione. "Shall we?" He gave a nod at her questioning look, "Let's see if my Aunt and Uncles have left any malt or port."

"I'm sure they haven't drank it all." Hermione said as she joined them arm in arm.

"Only because the night is still relatively young." Audrey offered as the three stepped into the room and Hermione's perception of what the night would be like, was shaping up to be nothing like she had foreseen. Her eyes quickly digested the room, seeing a room full of familiar faces and warm greetings as they entered; but like Percival and Audrey, her eyes became riveted upon Minerva.

She wore a scoop necked ivory dress that had a swirl of red and green that wove down her arms; an emerald pendant with corresponding earrings that even from this distance Hermione could tell it matched the hue of her eyes; her hair was held in a loose weave as wisps framed her face; but it was the radiance of her milky complexion offset by the twinkle of her eyes and the rose of her lips – she was resplendent.

"Percival." Minerva swept forward first embracing her son, and Hermione vaguely heard him compliment her attire and then Minerva was embracing her daughter-in-law. "Audrey." Joy emanating across her face, "How are you feeling?"

"The little one has been making himself known today." Audrey said as they pulled apart, gently guiding long fingers to the swell of her stomach.

Hermione's, along with every other face had turned to watch the openly endearing display, as Minerva's smile broadened; obviously having felt her grandchild.

"You should enjoy the quiet," She commented to her son, "And the sleep while you can." Rings of laughter spread across the small gathering, "I'm so happy for you both." She said, tears prickling her eyes.

"Thank you mother." Percival leaned in giving her another hug as Audrey embraced her from the other side.

Hermione took a step back trying to distance herself, but Percival reached out grasping her wrist. "And you, young lady." He turned to his mother, as Audrey stepped back along with Percival, "Thought she'd be intruding upon the family's evening and went to leave."

"I see they let you get far." Minerva remarked and Hermione felt a blush flush across her cheeks as she stepped closer.

"Not so very far, no." Hermione could feel the room look at her, "But I don't want to intrude."

Minerva reached forward; her words barely reaching Hermione's ear as she softly reassured the younger woman while giving her a welcoming embrace. "I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't count you as part of my family, my dear."

"Ya aren't that lucky, Hermione." Rory clinked Matthews's glass at his proclamation as Minerva and Hermione broke apart. "Minerva invited ya, and ya are stuck wit' all of us."

"Well that isn't saying much," Harold rebuked, "a bunch of drunkards that enjoy far too much malt," The room chorused a round of cheers, "port," another round of cheers went about the small group, "and late nights filled with frivolity, good food, and steadfast friends."

"Here here." Everyone who had a glass raised it and Minerva conjured two out of thin air handing one to Hermione.

"Welcome to the family, Hermione." Minerva quietly stated.

Brown eyes sparkled in appreciation, "Thank you Minerva."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Halfway around the table, Bonnie paused as she glanced at the names she had hovered above each plate; and then to the ones still in her hand. She had yet to decide what she was going to do regarding Hermione; and she had to determine where each person sat.

Hearing the group making their way towards her, she quickly finished placing each guest; opting to leave it as she had originally set the seating up.

She didn't have time to change it.

The door to the room opened and Bonnie vanished with barely a muffled pop.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena reached over grasping Minerva's hand, the two long time friends sharing a heartfelt moment before Minerva reached forward with her other hand while maintaining her clasped hand with Helena.

With poise she raised her right hand, the red wine sparkling in the glass as she waited for everyone to follow suite; including Bonnie and Elgin who were sitting amongst the group.

"To health," She felt Helena squeeze her fingers, "happiness, and a marvelous year ahead."

Hermione joined the salute noting the solemn atmosphere that had suddenly pervaded the room at Minerva's toast; her eyes meeting Minerva's who tilted her head and took a sip of her wine.

"And," Percival cleared his throat, "I'd like to break tradition and offer a few words to you," He turned to his mother, "while you are held captive."

"Percival."

"Ahh," He countered, "I haven't even started yet."

Hermione felt her lips curl into a smile at her obvious displeasure; several other grins breaking across previously stoic faces as a gentle laughter ebbed across the room.

Minerva pursed her lips and refrained from saying anything as she watched her son pull a small piece of parchment out.

"You know that I did not inherit my father or mother's adept spontaneity in magical skill or language; but thankfully some poor bloke thousands of years ago had the same problem as I." He unfolded the paper, "And invented ink so I could capture the essence of what I wished to say over time." He cleared his throat, turning to his mother as he stood.

"You are our mother, sister, friend and above all a woman each of us love. I cannot imagine a world without you in it," He paused swallowing the ball of emotion threatening to choke down his words, "nor do I dare try. You have guided Hogwarts, the wizarding world, and our family through perils amidst your own crises – from the loss of your husband, children, a grandchild, parents, brothers, family and friends many of whom I have never met but I know their lives were enriched by the mere fact that you, Mother, were in it. I doubt anyone, other than father and perhaps Helena and Rory will ever know the burdens you have had to carry; but I do know that they have been too arduous and have at times stretched the fabric of our family however, you have always managed to reign in and tame the untamable; defying death more times than I care to count and be there in the morning to say I love you. So," He cleared his throat, banishing the paper as he took a handful of steps closer to his mother. "I hope that as the darkness rises and you once again meet it; that I shall get to see you on the morrow and hear your soft voice and feel your warm embrace. But if I don't, I want you to know that I…all of us, know that we are loved."

Minerva stood and embraced him in a deep, affectionate hug; "I'll always love you."

He kissed her cheek, eyes burning into hers and reminding her of Albus'. "I know," he whispered.

Helena lifted her glass, fighting back the tears; "To love."

Hermione joined the rest of the group, "To love." She chorused as her eyes focused on misty emerald ones, who slid past Percival and met hers as Minerva summoned her glass while sitting. She offered a faint smile to Hermione as Percival cleared his throat again, all eyes sliding to him as he returned to his own chair.

"Speaking of love," he turned to Rory, "I have to admit that I am quite curious as to who you are now seeing."

All eyes jerked to Rory questions flying around the table as their plates became instantly laden with food and several serving dishes appeared, "Yes," Rory called out over the noise, "I did meet someone." The ambient noise in the room fell away, "And no, I'm not telling ya his name."

"Well since Arthur's been promoted I have a whole Unspeakable division that is looking for a new assignment." Harold set his glass down, careful to avoid the steaming food.

"Harold, you wouldn't." Helena chastised her husband.

"Depends," he glanced to Percival, "what the going rate is."

"We'll talk after dinner, I have a nice bottle of port…"

Hermione smiled as she bent her head to cut her food listening to the ongoing conversation; wondering if she could glean a hint of information to confirm her fairly strong suspicion that the man Rory was seeing was indeed her friend, George Weasley.

"Why bother with all the mystery?" Tessa picked up her napkin, "Mother had them over for dinner just over a week ago."

"Yes," Minerva cut into her roasted duck, "And for various reasons, your Uncle wishes to keep his partner's name undisclosed."

"Bonnie," Matthew turned to the Matriarch house elf, "perhaps you would be willing to share?"

Percival slid his food over to the other side of his mouth as he pointed to his 'cousin', "We'd have better luck getting it from Rory than her."

"Thank you Percival." Bonnie supplied between chews.

"Then perhaps three questions," Harold interjected as he raised his eyes to meet steely grey ones.

Rory looked to Minerva who gave an imperceptible shake of her head, but Rory nodded; "Very well, Harold. I will answer three questions – but there will be a few if asked I will pass upon."

"Up to three passes." Blue eyes glinted.

"And the first?" Rory asked as he took his goblet, seeming unworried.

Minerva braced herself for Harold's first barrage; "Care to wager?" She asked Helena.

"Heavens no," She said, eyes fixed upon Rory, feeling her husband's calm self confidence. "They both are in their element," her voice dropped, "but Harold may have him."

"His profession?"

A coy grin spread across rugged features, "A proprietor."

"The year he graduated Hogwarts?"

Hermione snapped her eyes to Rory, who casually shrugged. "It hasna been the top of our discussions; I can tell ya later than Minerva, but I'm sure you'd rather I pass on that."

"Careful Rory," Harold took a bite of hash, "I might think that you want me to figure it out."

"Even ya are goin' ta need a wee bit mor' than that."

"Does he come from a large family?"

"Define large." Rory countered.

"More than two siblings."

There was a distinct pause as Rory weighed his answer; either way gave Harold the answer he sought. "Aye, he does."

"And my last question which will undoubtedly yield one more; is he a member of the Order?"

And Minerva knew that Harold had him as there were only so many wizards who were unmarried and from large families in the Order of the Phoenix.

"Again," Rory shrugged, "Hasna really come up."

Harold raised his brow and several chuckles swept across the room, "And you don't remember having seen him at a meeting before?"

"Not when I was lookin'." Rory scooped a helping of corn up. "Though, I'll be sure ta look at our next meetin'."

"Well then, do you think you remember what his favorite cologne happens to be?"

"Hand mixed in Edinburgh." Rory smoothly replied and Hermione practically choked as she swallowed down her potatoes. "Thoughts?"

_George, _Hermione mutely stated as she glanced to Harold who took a moment as if pondering the information before giving a solitary nod, "Definitely." He said, "However, I also know you, like I, value your privacy."

"Harold…" Percival glanced between his Uncles, "What type of answer is that?"

"If you can't figure it out, then you aren't meant to." Harold replied, raising his glass out to his long time friend. "To mysteries."

"Aye." Rory said as they clinked their glasses from across the table.

"Is it true that you," Jordan glanced to Hermione, "and your husband will not be reconciling and the divorce is final?"

Hermione tried not to shift uncomfortably in her seat, "It's final." Hermione said with little flair, "And there will be no reconciliation."

"Then there is truth in the Prophet's 'duo watch'?" Audrey questioned.

"I try not to read it," Hermione admitted, "not really caring who my ex-husband has been gallivanting about Britain with."

"Actually, I was more interested in how you have found the time for a torrid albeit steamy affair with Ian McGreggor and two weeks later Angelina Johnson and still are teaching at Hogwarts and assisting Mother. I can't get her to come over for dinner and quiet game of chess because she's too busy with Hogwart's business; so I thought I'd ask how you manage it all." Tessa's crisp speech and direct query causing a frown to pull upon Minerva's face.

Hermione could see Minerva's dissatisfaction with her daughter's behavior; but, opted for a light-hearted approach as the rest of the room breathlessly waited for her reply the tension mounting. "Simple," she dabbed her mouth, "I stole Minerva's time turner."

Tessa rolled her eyes as Audrey gave a subtle nod while taking a sip of water. "Any truth to either Ian or Angelina or has the Prophet yet again missed their mark?" Malcolm questioned hoping the younger woman had enough sense not to be involved with the McGreggor family.

"If you equate dinner with a friend as a torrid and steamy affair; then yes."

"I don't know how you do it," Pomona shook her head, "the volume of letters you receive daily from potential suitors is staggering."

"It makes for an interesting respite from reading third year scrolls on transfiguration."

"You read them all?" Filius' disbelief felt around the room.

"Almost all of them." Hermione replied, "Save for the ones from my students."

"You used to get quite a few from your students when you taught." Helena directed to Minerva.

"Yes," she glanced at her friend, and then to Hermione; reality striking in her face as that _had_ been a lifetime ago. "However, nowhere near the volume that comes in daily for Hermione."

Percival edged farther upright, "I'm sure you've received letters since father's passing, why have you never dated?"

Helena watched as Minerva deftly parried the innocent question, her own heart hammering in her chest at the true reason as she felt her own bond pulse in understanding. "It never felt right…" Her eyes involuntarily shifted to Hermione and slowly she scanned across everyone else's face so as not to arouse suspicion feigning a smile as she did, "and hasn't."

"And you, Hermione - " Helena directed the conversation back to the younger woman not able or willing to listen to Minerva have to defend an action that no one sitting there would ever understand or probably learn the truth about. "In the vast collection of writings you've received has anyone perked your interest or does it remain too soon?"

Minerva's fingers tightened upon her fork as she listened, seeming a picture of tranquility.

Hermione found her mouth incredibly dry, reaching for her wine glass and desperately trying not to gaze at the woman who _had _perked her interest; but failing. "As I recently shared with a friend," Green and brown eyes met for the briefest of moments before she turned to meet Helena's open gaze. "It's too soon."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva listened to Percival rebuke Tessa regarding their respective research; Harold and Rory entering the friendly fray as Jordan, Malcolm, along with Filius spoke about a new weather charm; Helena and Pomona sharing stories of their children; and Matthew, Audrey and Hermione talking about the joys of early parenthood. Her animagus abilities enabled her listen to all four, but it was the one farthest away and the earthy cadence she continued finding herself drawn to despite intermittently engaging in conversation with Helena and Pomona.

"That is one thing I do envy," Helena was leaning back eyeing Minerva, who while she appeared to be engaged knew from countless years of experience that she was listening to most if not all of the conversations going on around them.

Pomona glanced from Helena to Minerva and back trying to ascertain what she was referring to, "Her uncanny ability to eat what she wants and still remain so blimey thin."

"That too." Helena chuckled while rolling her wine glass against her chin.

"Unfortunately, I cannot eat as I once did." Minerva remarked.

"No, you can eat more." Pomona set her silverware down along with her napkin.

"Please," Minerva shook her head as she set her own flatware down, "if only that were the case."

"Pomona's right, honey; you've lost weight and continue to, but…" She shook her head, "That's not what I was referencing."

"Oh?" Minerva reached forward, "Am I to surmise it has something to do with my malt stores?"

Pomona chuckled, as did Rory who couldn't help but overhear.

Helena leaned closer along with Pomona so as to not share her comment with anyone else; "Rather your damn ability to listen to multiple conversations while engaging to one; it's a fascinating albeit frustrating trait."

Pomona motioned down the table, "You mean she's…" She turned to Minerva, "You've been listening to everyone else's conversation while talking with us?"

"She's been doing that for decades," Helena's lips tightened as she waved off Minerva, "And I have yet to figure out how and not lose track of it all."

"Carefully." Minerva quipped as her and Pomona's plate vanished, and with barely a glance noticed that only Audrey and Hermione had not indicated that they were done eating. She heard Matthew finish a story about Samantha when she was three; and as she returned her attention back to Helena and Pomona as both Hermione and Audrey laughed, Hermione's rippling across her senses causing an innate smile.

"Obviously, hence the coy smile." Helena continued on unawares as to the true impetus of Minerva's smile.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Before we adjourn to the dance hall," Minerva gently pushed herself upright, her hip _wanting _to catch from being immobile for so long. "For a special performance that Bonnie graciously set up for our enjoyment this evening; I have something -"

Minerva summoned her walking stick and strode across the dining hall picking up a small box off one of curio cabinets; all eyes following her as she did.

"I'd like to share." The thud of her walking stick rhythmically clipping off beat from the heels of her shoes. "Bonnie if you'd be so kind."

Bonnie snapped her fingers and at once the table was emptied except for the wine goblets and at Elgin's snap; a solitary tumbler was resting between Helena and Minerva's seat.

"Thank you." Minerva nodded to Bonnie as she drew to a halt in front of Helena, "With you." She eyed her dearest friend as she leaned her walking cane against her chair. "For years," She wandlessly enlarged the box and at once everyone could see it was a gift box that typically housed liquor. "I tried to replicate the 1914 Silver Label Malt and failed. However, after Albus'…passing," Emerald eyes gazed into deep blue ones, "I re-evaluated several aspects of my life, including something as mundane as deciphering what made the 1914 malt so different." She pulled the non-descript bottle with a simple white label across the front, her palm covering the verbiage. The crimson lid morphing off the top, transfiguring into a metal hawk which found itself perched on the edge of the empty tumbler. "I can't say that your Christmas gift will be traditional," She poured the amber liquid into glass, ice suddenly clinking against its side. "But I can say that it'll be long-lived."

Harold blinked back tears as Helena gazed lovingly up at her best friend.

Minerva nodded to the tumbler and with shaking fingers, Helena grasped the glass; their eyes remaining locked as she lifted it to upwards, the hawk softly landing onto the table as Helena took a deep swallow – the room holding its collective breath in anticipation. Helena's rich laugh and large tears were all the answer that was needed as the room clapped and she stood.

"Happy Christmas." Minerva whispered as Helena embraced her in a long hug.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione stared in the room and the performers who were beginning to take the small stage that had been erected and back to the plush recliners spaced across the floor as several people began taking their seats; she merely stood stock still in shock.

It wasn't until she felt a ghostlike touch across her back that she blinked and turned; her heart speeding up to a crescendo as a rush of lavender blanketed the air and she meet crystalline green eyes.

"You look as if you've never seen a private performance," Mirth lining the rich contralto voice.

"The Celtic Woman's Christmas concert has been sold out for months." Hermione finally breathed out. "And a private concert," a note of awe lining her words, "this must have cost a small fortune."

"Which I have." Minerva gently replied. "And does no good collecting dust in my vault."

_How much had Minerva spent between this evening and the event two nights ago? _"If you continue at this rate you won't have any galleons left come Monday."

"At least it'll be a new problem to deal with."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, "True."

"We need to take our seats," Minerva's voice holding an odd note of tenderness as they entered together. Minerva motioning for her to take the chair in front as she took the one upon the back right cattycorner from Hermione.

"Mother, you can have my seat." Percival stood, several others began standing and Minerva shook her head.

"Thank you love but I think I'll be able to see the concert from here quite well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes as I know Rory won't talk throughout the performance, while I can never be sure of Helena."

Helena turned in her chair, "We've both been drinking, it's a moot point."

A man approached the small cluster of chairs, "Will this be all?" He asked mildly shocked that there weren't more persons before him.

"Yes." Minerva succinctly replied; not bothering him with the sundry details that there were several dozen house elves in attendance that he wouldn't be able to see.

"Very well, it'll begin in a few moments." He left the room and went to speak to the performers.

Rory nudged Minerva and nodded towards Helena, "Way ta scare 'em off already, Helena."

"That's only because they tried to steal my Malt."

"Reckon I can get a bottle from ya?"

"For your kilt, aye – you can."

Minerva almost felt sorry for Helena, almost. In one deft motion, he cut the bottom of his kilt off and with two flicks and a toss; a replica of his kilt landed in Helena's lap. "Rory!" She jumped up, kilt in her hand and Minerva and he had tears from laughter streaming down their faces as they both gasped heartily for air. "For that, you won't get _any_ Malt!"

"That's alright luv," He breathed, "The memory was worth it."

With a flick of her wand, his mock kilt whizzed back and morphed into a deluge of rain; saturating him, his seat and the floor.

Minerva just laughed as she leaned over and glanced back to him, "You are going to clean that up, aren't you."

"This appears to be an intimate yet lively audience." Chloe said bringing everyone's attention to her as the rest of the group took the stage. "For most of the evening we'll be regaling you with Christmas carols, but there was a request for a song that we'll be honoring that is rather apropos considering we are in Scotland."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

They watched as most of the group exited and a sole person came out, "This song is for Minerva with love."

Minerva sat up slightly straighter and glanced to where she knew _his _portrait rested; hidden from view. She stared at him, feeling him staring back until the first chords of music drifted across the air and she immediately knew what song _he_ had somehow chosen.

And her heart, ached.

_ Caledonia._

Peripherally she saw Rory immediately turn to her; grey eyes misting up at the patriotic song that held a double meaning for her.

And she held her breathe as the woman began singing –

_"I don't know if you can see_

_ The changes that have come over me_

Shaking fingers lifted up to cover her lips -

_ In these last few days I've been afraid _

_ That I might drift away_

Tears pressed against her eyes at how true those words had become; and knowing that while she and Albus had steered cleared of the reason, it was becoming harder for them to ignore.

_I've been telling old stories, singing songs_

_ That make me think about where I've come from_

_ That's the reason why I seem_

_ So far away today_

As the chorus began, Minerva lost the battle and a tear slipped off her lashes;

_Let me tell you that I love you_

_ That I think about you all the time_

The weight in her burgeoning in her soul at how she couldn't stop the fledgling feelings she felt for Hermione while her husband waited for her –

_Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home_

_ But if I should become a stranger_

_ Know that I would make more than sad_

_ Caledonia's been everything I had_

Minerva could hear the stanza playing as their bond pulsed, love pouring over her as a joint memory flooded her consciousness based on the same music but harmonized with bagpipes on their wedding day…

_Now I have moved and I've kept on moving_

_ Proved the points that I needed proving_

_ Lost the friends I needed losing_

Images of Lizza, Digs, Melinda, William flashed across her mind -

_ Found others on the way_

Her eyes fell to Helena and Harold, warmth filling her chest -

_ I have kissed the fellas and left them crying_

_ Stolen dreams, yes, there's no denying_

She could see Aegis' haggard and drawn features -

_ I have traveled hard, sometimes with conscience flying_

_ Somewhere with the wind_

She pulled her gaze towards Albus' portrait –

_ Let me tell you that I love you_

_ That I think about you all the time_

She missed him so -

_Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home_

_ But if I should become a stranger_

Which we have been slowly becoming -

_ Know that I would make more than sad_

_ Caledonia's been everything I had_

Emerald eyes drifted to Hermione's profile – committing the soft lines to memory.

_ Now I'm sitting here before the fire_

_ The empty room, the forest choir_

_ The flames have cooled, don't get any higher_

_ They've withered, now they've gone_

_ But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear_

_ And I know what I will do tomorrow_

_ When hands have shaken, the kisses float_

_ Then I will disappear _– just like me, Minerva thought as she lifted her gaze once more to Albus and reached inward pulling upon their bond – the music washing over her and him; and for a moment they were floating across a dance floor. His soft voice rasping the words as they danced -

_ Let me tell you that I love you _

_ That I think about you all the time_

_Caledonia, you're calling me, now I'm going home_

_ But if I should become a stranger_

_ Know that I would make more than sad_

_ Caledonia's been everything I had_

_ Caledonia's been everything I've ever had_

_ Caledonia's been everything I've ever had_

_ Caledonia's been everything I've ever had_

_'I love you, Minerva.'_ He breathed out as the room began clapping and she felt Rory's hand upon her forearm as she blinked at him, tears easily falling as the pain from their bond washed over her and then dissipated causing the heartache to expand as she knew Albus had just bore the brunt of their separation.

"You alright, luv?" Rory breathed.

"I need some air." Minerva didn't wait for a response, having already quietly stood and walking towards the veranda as music to the next song started.

The doors sprung apart, the frigid air striking against her flushed skin and moist cheeks; and with reserves befitting her namesake, she remained composed striding away from the window along the banister until the doors gently latched closed and wards resealed before a soul shattering sob escaped from her throat.

"Luv," Rory had exited from the hall, striding forward up to her; "I'm here." He enfolded her in his arms.

_"I can't do this anymore, Rory." _She brokenly whispered in Gaelic against his shoulder.

He didn't reply, simply holding her to him not understanding her reference; but not needing to. Because whatever it was; it was obviously ripping her heart out and shattering his in the process.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Bonnie watched as Rory quietly crept back into the performance, as well as the Mistress; their subtleness as deft as her animagus. She stared at Minerva for a moment, and could denote slight redness along the rim of her eyes which would dissipate before the end of the performance. It did not do for the others to know that she had left for a short interlude.

However, as her eyes left Minerva's profile; she glanced to Hermione and bit back a sigh. She had yet to decide what to do regarding the remarkable witch; who her Mistress was beginning to like as more than a mere friend.

_ Did Minerva even realize that her mannerisms were as they once were when she and Albus had begun to court? Doubtful, _she thought_; as I did not realize it until the day before; and it is so subtle…but Merlin; what if it continued? What if it was noticed? What would her children have to say? Her friends? Albus?_

The notion of what Minerva and Albus' 'conversation' was enough to paralyze the elder elf; as all others would pale in comparison.

And she realized it was no longer _her_ choice, she'd have to speak with Minerva.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione took her cloak from the small elf as Minerva bid Filius and Pomona a good evening. They bid each other a good night, Minerva assuring them that she'd see them in the morning and after one more embrace they departed leaving them momentarily alone. The evening had come to a rapid end after the concert finished; and while Minerva seemed engaged; Hermione could tell that something was bothering her.

Perhaps it was the way her smile didn't touch her eyes; that her jubilance _almost_ seemed forced; that the lightness that had been so much a part of the remarkable woman for the past few days no longer seemed prevalent; or that…the sparkle had vanished from her eyes and her words held an earthy burr across them.

"Thank you," Hermione said as she fastened her cloak, taking her scarf from the depths of her pocket, "I had a lovely evening."

"I'm glad you came," Minerva genuinely replied trying not to take another step closer, but wanting to lean on the younger woman for a moment. She was tired. So very tired of the war of her emotions, and fighting feelings that shouldn't be; but were despite it all.

Hermione's eyes darted to the hall and back, "Is everything alright?" she quietly asked.

"I'm merely tired." She reached up, fingers brushing along Hermione's upper arm.

"You're sure?" Hermione turned to her, "Since earlier you seem…" She tipped her head to the side, as if searching for the word; "Heavier somehow."

"Family dissonance," Minerva honestly answered, "but it'll sort itself out given enough time."

"It's not because," A partial look of horror flashed across her face, "I came is it?"

"Definitely not." Minerva responded, "The family likes you." _As do I, _she silently added.

Relief flooded her features, along with curiosity. "Then what is it?"

"Nothing that can be fixed tonight," she leaned in, giving her a brief hug. "Even over a bottle of port." She finished stepping back, letting her feelings for Hermione briefly surface, a tender expression immediately coming to play across her lips. "You needn't worry Hermione, I'm fine."

"If you need or want to talk about it later or tomorrow…"

_Of all the things I __**won't**__ be speaking with you about,_ Minerva smiled, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione knew that was Minerva's kind way of saying that she would keep it in mind but it would be exceptionally doubtful if she ever learned what the problem was. "Good night Minerva."

"Good night, dear." She said and with a final look turned towards the hall and her dearest friends; but much like the almond scent, her thoughts lingered on her departing guest.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"You expecting someone?" Charlie questioned as George frowned and glanced at the clock while standing. It was just after 2 in the morning.

"No, not this late." He replied hoping beyond hope that it was Angelina and not Rory as Charlie, Ron, Lee, Dean and Seamus watched him walk to the door.

However, he like everyone else was surprised to see Hermione standing on the other side of the door; "Hermione, everything alright?"

She smiled apologetically, "Sorry George." She reached up, grabbing the back of his head and leaning forward on the tips of her toes and kissing him soundly before letting him go.

"I…uh…" He could taste a sweet malt on his tongue and lips.

"Lost a bet;" she declared glancing past him to see two of his brother's and a few friends who were gaping at them.

"With who?" Ron asked standing.

"Harold." Hermione stated, "While at Minerva's." She glanced back at the still shell-shocked wizard, "Again, sorry; George." She stepped back a flutter of movement and George could feel a piece of paper materialize in his fingers; "Good night." And she left as the other men asked if she'd like to join them; but she had already apparated away.

George shook his head and closed the door while glancing at the note; blinking disbelievingly at the words.

_Had hoped to find you alone – R_

"Well that was a surprise." Lee stated as he began dealing.

"Have to wonder what they were betting on."

"And who was there."

"Hey," Charlie threw a pillow at his brother, "Love struck, forget it."

"She's off limits to any of you." Ron clipped.

"Including you." George rebuked turning around, knowing that while the next hour would be hell; he very much enjoyed kissing his boyfriend in front of everyone – even if no one knew it, including him.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: As always; hope you enjoyed._


	69. Chapter 66 December 24th, 2009

**Chapter 66 ~ December 24****th****, 2009 (Thursday)**

_a/n: Prepare yourself for an 'unusual' and convoluted mess, so much for sitting around and roasting chestnuts... _**  
**

Hermione refrained from doing a double-take at seeing Minerva sitting at breakfast with Filius, Marx and Aurora as she strode in. She'd have thought Minerva would have stayed at the Manor for breakfast this morning after the party last evening.

"Good morning, Professor Granger." Filius chipperly stated, voice ringing across the sparse hall.

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick." Hermione replied in kind as she walked past the students' table, only four students having managed to make it so far. "Good morning," she stated to the small cluster.

They smiled and nodded chorusing a response, "Good morning Professor Granger."

Hermione pulled a seat out beside Marx, "Good morning Professor Hesch."

"Hermione," He tipped his head, "how are you?"

"Looking forward to seeing my children later tonight."

"Then they are staying with you on Christmas?" He asked.

"And through the weekend." She poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"Is this their week to be at your parents or Molly and Arthur's?" Minerva questioned noting the glance she received from Filius.

"Their splitting the time between everyone;" she sighed shaking her head, "not that they mind." _I just wish they didn't have to, _Hermione finished to herself.

"Why not keep them for the week?" Marx questioned, "Census is low and I'll be happy to cover any calls that you cannot."

Filius nodded as he cut into his ham, "As will I and I'm sure Pomona will help too."

"As wonderfully tempting as the offer and notion is, the other reason for their hop-scotched affair is Ron." She admitted, "He is off several days this upcoming week too."

At Hermione's declaration, Minerva set her fork down; feeling mildly ill at ease. The children would much prefer to spend time with Hermione than Ron; for the simple reason that she engaged with them. "It sounds as though they'll have a busy week." Minerva took her tea, leaning back and quelling her own thoughts on the subject, she had enough problems of her own involving the woman catawampus from her without adding additional ones. No matter how innocent and darling Rose and Hugo were.

"Yes; mom is taking them into muggle London…"

Minerva listened as Hermione animatedly talked about what her children were going to be doing with her parents; she noted the light behind her eyes, the slight curl of her lips, the pride in her voice, and as Hermione finished, Irma and Poppy sat down.

"Save any for us?" They questioned and Minerva smiled at the two women, stating good morning and subsequently backing her own chair up.

"Leaving upon our arrival?" Irma peered over at the Headmistress, "And it is not even eight."

"That is most fortunate as I am to have breakfast with some of the Board of Governors at eight."

"I didn't have it on my calendar." Filius remarked between swallowing whole bites while backing up his own chair.

"You needn't worry, it's regarding my contract." She squeezed him on the shoulder and both stared at the other for a moment. She gave a nod and he did in return; but Hermione felt her stomach sink at the potential meaning.

"Do negotiate well." Marx said, "As you are a wonderful Head of Hogwarts Minerva."

"That's this spring Marx," She corrected, "And thank you." Her gaze slid over to Hermione whose worried eyes met hers; and she forced a comforting smile to touch her lips before spinning on her heel, robes flourishing about her.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena stared at the order, "You'd think after my last response that they'd leave well enough alone."

Jayne quickly agreed, "I'd have certainly thought so."

"Well, until they realize that I am not releasing her records; let us have a bit of fun shall we?" Helena handed Jayne the executive order from the Ministry Auror department.

"Fun, Ma'am?" she scanned the note, "If you don't produce Minerva McGonagall's records you'll be brought before the Wizengamut."

"Oh, do liven up Jayne, if I end up in Azkaban; I get some time off. Now," she clapped her hands together; "Go to the records depository and bring…" Her smile broadened, "Eric Eddison's file."

"And Ms. McGonagall's as well?"

She narrowed her eyes, "No, just Mr. Eddison's." Concern flaring regarding Jayne's slightly odd demeanor, "And how is your niece's visit going?"

"Well," Jayne replied turning, "it's always nice to have family…"

The rest of her sentence went unsaid as Helena immobilized her assistant, or rather the person impersonating as her assistant. "Her niece left last week." Helena strode forward running her wand between her fingers; as she inwardly called for help. "I'm going to assume that Jayne is safe." She came up to stand in front of the person, "I'm releasing your eyes, blink twice if she is."

The person quickly blinked twice.

"Good answer," She drawled, "Now for a short series of yes and no questions and depending on how they are answered is whether or not you'll be released from my care and under what condition you will be released. Understood?"

A blank expression greeted her, save for two blinks.

"Is she at home?"

One blink.

"At the Ministry?"

One blink.

"Here?"

Two blinks.

"On one of the wards?"

Two blinks.

"Registered in the last hour?"

One blink.

"Last two hours?"

Two blinks.

"Now for the difficult questions," She took a step closer gazing at 'her' over silver frames. "Do you work for the Ministry?"

The person stared straight into blue eyes; unblinking.

"Do you know who my husband is?"

Two blinks.

"And you know who I am, correct?"

Two blinks.

"Do you know what _I _do here other than be the 'Administrator'?"

A pause occurred before slowly the person blinked once.

"I save peoples' lives; typically the more difficult cases as I became interested in the medical field because of a dear friend of mine when I was still a child and now have decades of expertise. Expertise in saving lives; which means;" she peeled her frames off her face, "That I have had to learn the spell that caused the injury or at times death. I've traveled all over the world, spent time with the Goblins even a stint with muggles trying to become as _well rounded _as possible. I have seen death upon a battlefield, accidental, environmental, spell work that has gone amiss, and spells cast in both anger and defense;" she took a step closer, bringing her to within centimeters of the person. "I know how to make the Cruciatus curse seem like a caress; and will leave you upon the fourth floor certifiably unfit until I get the answers I seek." She watched as brown eyes darted to the emblem and back, "Do not mistake the emblem on the wall means that I shall do no harm to you. As I will," A coldness filtered across her eyes, "Now I will only ask this once more, do you work for the Ministry?"  
Two blinks.

"Is this for the Ministry?"

One blink.

"Do you work for Johannes too?"

Two blinks.

"Is this for him?"

Slowly her eyes blinked twice.

Helena stepped away, "He knows who her children are," she quietly stated to herself, and then recalled a heartfelt conversation between she and Minerva. "But not where she lives. You want her file to obtain the location of her home."

Two blinks.

"Unfortunately for you and everyone else in Britain, her file isn't kept in the Depository."

Questions filled brown eyes.

"Ohh, I know, I know; you would like to know; I can see that. And I really want to help, really do; but you see…" She gave a subtle shake of her head, "She's the friend I mentioned earlier."

Brown eyes became wide as saucers, and Helena waved open the door; feeling the wards to floor shift about her as heavy footfalls thundered down the marble hall.

"And that is my husband, coming for you." She glanced to the door as Harold, Gawain and several others, including Harry Potter, came sprinting in wands drawn.

"You…alright?" Harold asked glancing at Jayne and then his wife.

"Fine, dear. Fine." Helena slipped her glasses back on and began walking past the team, "It seems Jayne's been temporarily supplanted;" She patted Gawain's arm, "I believe that may be one of your escaped prisoners."

"I need a statement, Helena." Harold called out as he waved his wand, releasing the person.

"As soon as I find out what floor he left the poor dear on," Helena called out from over her shoulder.

"Hersk, Potter go with her." Gawain motioned to the doorway.

"And no, I don't need an escort." Helena's words reaching the room despite having already crossed the outer chamber causing Hersk and Potter to wince, but at seeing Gawain's raised brow they both turned and jogged after St. Mungos Administrator.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva strode into the meeting room, Alayah and Arthur instantly turning towards her, and with a calming breath she walked forward, the doors closing behind her; _the beginning of the end._ "Thank you for taking time to meet with me this morning."

"You said it was urgent," Alayah stated, "It isn't involving Harkiss is it? And," she glanced to the closed doors, "Are the rest of the Governors not coming?"

"No to both questions," Minerva answered. "As I have need to keep this information quiet while upholding the terms of my contract with the Board."

"Minerva, you know that I'll be stepping off the Board after this spring as it's a conflict of interest; it would be better if another were here…"

"By telling you now, I cover both my contractual obligations with Hogwarts and any perceived agreement with the Ministry."

"Minerva," Arthur furloughed his brow at her solemn mood, "is everything alright?"

"I will say in advance that I am sorry for the ill timing, but it cannot wait." Minerva came to stand by Alayah and Arthur, "I will not be returning to the post of Headmistress next year."

"Are you sure you want to decide this now?" Alayah questioned concern lacing her features.

"It is not about choice at this point, rather practicality." Minerva's voice rumbling forward as if they were discussing the inclement weather; and not that she would be resigning from Hogwarts following this year. "I will announce this to the full board in January; along with my recommendation of offering Filius the Headship and if she chooses to remain with Hogwarts, Hermione Granger Deputy. That is of course up to the Head of Hogwarts to decide, but she would be a tremendous asset in that position."

Arthur felt as if he was picking his jaw up from the floor as he tried to wrap his brain around what she was saying; and the odd verbiage. "What do you mean it isn't about choice but practicality?"

Minerva steeled herself and met blue and violet eyes; "Your respective word that what I tell you shan't be repeated, even to your spouses."

"Yes." Alayah readily agreed.

"Of course, Minerva." Arthur consented.

And without preamble, she told them a harrowing truth that they could never have conceived, "I'll be dead within a year." She watched their eyes dilate as they audibly gasped, "And while teaching at Hogwarts has been an honor, I will not physically be able to in the very near future."

"Is there anything to be done?" Alayah asked, "Surely there must be something; you look fine, are you sure you've had the diagnosis verified?"

"Is this from the incident at St. Mungos last month?"

"I'm afraid that there is little that can be done at this point," Minerva acknowledged, "And no Arthur, the incident involving Harry was not the cause."

"I didn't read of any accident or…spell work," Alayah stared at the Minerva, "You are sure?"

Arthur nodded, seeing the truth reflected in emerald eyes; "You've known for some time, haven't you?"

"For innumerable reasons I have kept quiet about my condition, and will continue to do so."

"How long has Helena given you?"

Minerva thought of obfuscating the answer, but decided that an elongated timetable would work just as well. "Two months to a just over a year is the window I have been afforded."

"Does your family know?" He breathed out.

"Only Helena and Poppy are aware of the gravity of my condition; my children, Filius, Rory, Harold and Pomona know of my affliction."

"Will your…condition affect your ability as the Headship?" Alayah questioned, trying to remember why she was here and not be crushed by the news.

"If at any point my condition worsens to the point I can no longer perform the duties as Headmistress, I will send a letter tendering my immediate resignation."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena bristled, "Absolutely not."

"He was able to replace Jayne," Gawain retorted, "She's your assistant for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't look at me to save you," Harold held up his hands, "Gawain's right Helena, even with increased safety and an Auror designated to you; you are still vulnerable. Be thankful it isn't up to me, or you'd be running Mungos from home."

"I was never in any danger!"

"And I'd like to keep you, _**and**_ Harold safe." Gawain's quiet sentiment causing both sets of eyes to momentarily widen, "I may not deal in as many mysteries Harold, but I do know a few of yours; including your respective bonding. Now, I'm only asking for one Auror to be posted with you while at work; be grateful it isn't more because whether you believe you are a target or not; if I was Harkiss, you'd have been my first. You're Minerva's best friend Helena, and any information he wants; you have or can access."

"Gawain, I think you've said enough…" Harold began, feeling Helena's sudden anxiety.

"No Harold," Gawain shook his head, "I haven't, because I need you both to realize the gravity of your particular situation; in one move, he erases two of Minerva's supports and cripples two areas of the wizarding world. We aren't talking backyard chess, he's setting up the board; and while Minerva is thwarting him, the skirmishes have been along the pawns with few actual engagements leaving both sides marked but fully functional. He's playing high stakes, and the pair of you are as high as they come; her respective Rooks – the last one she'd ever put into play and the first one Harkiss would like to see gone. Don't lose sight of that."

"No one has," Harold admitted, "and we've been taking precautions."

"Not enough," Gawain's voice dropping, "because in this game, there aren't any second chances."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Shafts of moonlight spread across Arthur's features as he stared into the darkness, Hermione silently watching him for countless minutes. He had been unusually quiet through dinner and after having unobtrusively retreated outside, that had been over a half hour ago. Molly had asked the group if they knew of anything that may have happened at the Ministry today as he had been incredibly withdrawn, almost depressed, since returning home.

_"I haven't seen him this way since…her eyes involuntarily teared up, Fred passed."_

Harry and Ron had both quickly said no, everyone else affirming that they hadn't heard of anything that would affect him so; especially as it was Christmas Eve. Arthur was noted for making the most of the holidays and brought meaning to the word festive.

However, it did not appear so tonight.

Molly had apologized for asking everyone over for the impromptu dinner this evening, of course, her infamous clock had indicated that each was alive and well; but she had wanted to be sure that the cause hadn't been one of them. And as it wasn't, she didn't know what or who could have impacted him so.

Upon clearing off the table, Molly had pulled Hermione aside –

_"Nothing has happened at Hogwarts, has it?"_

_ Hermione shook her head, "It's quiet, only a handful of students have chosen to remain this year. Why?"_

_ Molly opened her mouth as if to reply and then shrugged, "I've been racking my brain as to who or what would weigh so heavily upon Arthur; and outside of the family I can only come up with a handful."_

Hogwarts having been one.

A memory having flared from her evening with Minerva at the Witchery; and the vague brush stroke commentary of ghostly support between families that she and Aegis's clandestine relationships spawned – Hermione recalled something about procuring property for his sister after she had been widowed.

_"Did you ever meet Arthur's parents?" Despite their many conversations, Hermione had never inquired about Arthur's family; Ron had said his grandparents had passed before his father had graduated from Hogwarts. _

_ Molly set the handful of plates into the sink, "Only his mother, the summer before she passed. He had invited me to his home," she smiled as she spread out her hands, indicating that the home she spoke of was the one they were now standing in, "for a week before the start of our sixth year."_

_ Molly continued talking and Hermione could feel the niggling tendrils of forgotten conversations begin winding themselves together, realization dawning upon her._

His mother had been Cedrella Black – Aegis' twin sister.

It was Arthur's mother that Minerva had mysteriously assisted; and who knew what else. She vaguely listen to Molly prattle on about her visit a lifetime ago; her mind on another possibility and a frighteningly real one. As Minerva had stated at breakfast that she had a meeting with the Governors; what if she had chosen to resign from Hogwarts?

The minutes seemed to drag on before the kitchen had been clean; and she had an opportunity to check on the children and then grab a cloak hanging by the door, disappearing into the night. It had taken little time to locate Arthur, his back to the house; eyes searching the night for answers as the moon continued its journey.

"Want to talk about it?" She finally asked, striding forward as she made herself known.

"Ahhh, good evening, Hermione." Arthur barely turning to acknowledge her presence, eyes fixed ahead. "I'm fine; just a long day at the office."

"And Hogwarts," She retorted causing him to turn and actually look at her. "I know whatever is bothering you has little to do with the Ministry; and that Minerva had a meeting with the Governors this morning – " At the flash of emotion, the dread she had been carrying since this morning cemented, defeat ringing in her voice. "She told you; didn't she?"

Arthur opened his mouth, too shocked to say a word. Mind reiterating the question and paralleling it to the conversation with Minerva this morning; _told you…I'm dying…_

Hermione blinked back a wave of emotion, disbelieving; "Don't," She shook her head, "I know you can't," she turned to the landscape a sigh falling from her lips, "I'm sure she'll tell everyone soon enough."

Arthur had known that Minerva and Hermione had become rather good friends these past months since she had begun working at Hogwarts; but he, along with everyone else, had underestimated the depth of their friendship if Minerva had divulged the news to her. He hadn't recalled Minerva stating her name; then again, he hadn't been able to recall most of the meeting or the events of the day, just thankful to be home and in familiar surroundings. "When did she…tell you?" He wondered how long she had known and had to bear the burden of knowing.

"She didn't initially," Hermione said feeling as if her world was slowly spinning out of control. "However, about a month ago I overheard a comment and surmised. She asked that I not divulge it…" Hermione grasped the cloak, pulling it tighter; hoping to stave off the sudden chill that had gripped her body.

Arthur swallowed the bile down, he had surmised from the conversation this morning that Minerva had known for some time; but to hear Hermione indicate that she had known for a month, his admiration and respect for Hermione increasing tenfold at the burden she had willingly born; no one having been the wiser. However, the magnitude and complexity of the situation pulled at his soul. _Minerva had to have known for…_he recalled the heated Order meeting in early August and the commentary regarding her health; and felt his shoulders sink._ the better part of six months if not longer. _"She's always been a very private person." His statement an obvious fact to anyone who _knew_ Minerva.

"There's private, then there's Minerva." Hermione stated, unable to fathom a world where Minerva wasn't at Hogwarts. It just didn't seem possible. Of course she along with the whole of Britain understood that life was change. However, there were also those irrefutable facts while growing up; the constants that you _knew_ for certain. Hogwarts was the educational foundation of Britain and it would _always_ be there; as would it's Headmaster and Deputy – the quirky, albeit wistfully brilliant Albus Dumbledore and the reserved, though adroitly intelligent Minerva McGonagall. Two of the most noted witches and wizards of the age in not only skill and notoriety but intelligence as well. However, as she, along with the rest of the world, was forced to remember – change _does_ occur and fatefully did all those years ago when Dumbledore's body was thrown from the parapet. And yet, despite that life altering event; the wizarding world rallied and slowly began to adjust its constants. Hogwarts invariably remained as did the other inevitable staple, Minerva McGonagall. How could she not remain? She was an icon, the veritable humanistic face of Hogwarts – strong, resilient, and foundational. New constants had been added, shoring up the wizarding worlds bedrock; from Harry to Ron and she, along with Neville…but there still remaining at the heart was the Deputy, now Headmistress. Who would the wizarding world lean upon now? Harry? Her?

She was sure that Minerva was retiring to spend several years with her family and friends; and had she not earned that right? The woman behind the Deputy, the Headmistress, icon...had given up so much, lost so much, and yet Hermione couldn't help but _want_ to feel selfish. She didn't _want _to live in a world where Hogwarts was without Minerva.

"How…" Arthur stilled the shake in his voice and began again, "How has she been coping?"

A light chortle left her lips, "She's Minerva." Hermione said with a shake of her head, "The world could be and I suppose some ways is falling in upon itself and she finds time to throw a gala and then last night have another party for her family."

Arthur's gaze fully turned to Hermione, surprise lining his face as he sought confirmation to the unbelievable. "You were invited to it last evening?"

Hermione gave a slight nod, memories of the incredible evening dampening out tonight's utter feeling of loss. "She found out her grandchild will be a boy."

Arthur felt his throat clench; from the records he had given to Minerva and her commentary; he knew she was already a grandmother, but this news was…difficult. Because from Minerva's tone this morning, she didn't seem to believe she'd be alive for more than a handful of months and a year at best meant that she'd only know her grandson for a few months. "As a student I had always suspected that there was a lot more to Minerva than what she portrayed while teaching;" Hermione's rumination interrupting Arthur's morbid thoughts. "I had no idea how wrong I was." Her voice barely a whisper, "There wasn't just a lot more, but rather a whole other person that almost no one realizes exists." A tender smile passed across her face as she recalled memories from not only last evening but the last week and a half in general; from the quidditch game, to her conversation with Hugo, the transformations done to try and save her cousin, the heartwarming exchange between she and Helena, the quiet conversations with her –

"I had always known there were layers," Arthur softly interjected, "from my youth." His voice trembling, "She had been friends with my mother, and while I was never certain and when I asked later, she denied it; but I believe she is the reason why I was able to keep the Burrow and continue to go to school at Hogwarts after mother's death. But as for the depths of Minerva's character, connections and family; I have known her as a professor, friend, Order member and even as the Minister of Magic and I have only uncovered a sickle's worth of her life. Complex doesn't begin to describe her, and…she'll be missed."

Hermione nodded, "I had hoped she would change her mind."

Arthur held his tongue, _changed her mind?_ He questioned her verbiage internally, _from death?_

"But, the business with Harkiss is affecting her a lot more than she is letting on."

Arthur felt his head nod in agreement, mind still reeling from her statement as he tried to comprehend her ongoing commentary.

"She's exhausted and while I understand her desire to retire, I can't say that I wish her to."

_Retire._ His mind crystallizing on the singular word.

"Nor want her to." Hermione chuckled at the notion, "For purely selfish reasons I suppose; it just won't seem like Hogwarts without her; even though I understand her desire to spend time with family and friends." She cast a glance to Arthur who appeared rapt with attention, "Filius would be a wonderful candidate to take over the headship."

Arthur blinked, "Yes." He cleared his throat and nodded, "Yes, that was her suggestion." The next sentence falling from his lips as his mind grappled with the realization of what he had almost divulged, and thankfully hadn't. "In addition to you becoming Deputy, of course, that would be the Head of Hogwarts decision."

Brown eyes widened, "Really?" Surprise lacing the word.

Arthur stared at his now ex-daughter in law, "I fail to see why you find that surprising, Hermione. You are undoubtedly the smartest witch of your age; Minerva recognizes this and if she is…" The word caught in his throat as he tried to say it, "retiring after serving a lifetime to Hogwarts, it makes sense for her to recommend the brightest witch of the age into a vital role of the prestigious school."

"There are others with more experience," she began but Arthur interjected.

"And undoubtedly greater tenure, but I doubt in her recommendation she was looking at either of those." He pulled his gaze back to the blackness of night and away from eager brown eyes. "Rather your skill, aptitude, initiative and temperament."

"It is moot either way," Hermione turned to the blackness as well, "I have no desire to remain at Hogwarts after she leaves. It'll be too different, too…" A smile fluttered across rose lips as emerald eyes glanced up from the letter being scrawled upon her desk. "Much change." She cleared her throat, "I think I'll return to the Ministry, raise the children, spend time visiting with friends…"

The last words blending into the night, Arthur briefly glancing to Hermione, noticing the faraway look and felt the coldness from earlier returning. It was evident that Hermione was rapidly becoming a close friend to Minerva; and while the wizarding world would reel for months after her passing he was afraid that Hermione, like him, and a few others who knew the remarkable woman, it would take much longer. "It isn't a decision you have to make this evening."

Hermione shook her head, "No." She whispered, "It isn't."

"And," he found the inner verve to continue on, "you can still visit…your friends…from Hogwarts."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched as Katherine peeled the paper back to reveal her gift; the joy emanating from her whole body.

"It's perfect Nana!" Katherine squealed in delight already tearing the content of the box open.

Tessa groaned, "An indoor cleansweep…"

Malcolm chuckled, "Perfect."

She let her eyes appear to remain on Kat for another handful of seconds, mind drifting again to the internal musings of wondering what Hermione was doing this evening. She hadn't seen her since this morning, and after the day she had; she wouldn't have minded just to have a drink and speak about anything other than focusing on _her last Christmas_ as her children were intent upon doing. She didn't _want _to think of this as her last Christmas; the last time she would see her grandchildren or children smile, hear her dearest friends' laugh. Instead, she'd be able to decompress and relax; enjoy the day for the day.

Idly she rotated the nearly empty glass in her fingers, tempted to finish off the amber liquid but not relishing hearing her children berate her for having a third glass. They sometimes forgot that her father was a true Scot and she had been raised on malt; hence her tolerance was far higher than she wished it to be; especially on nights like these.

Percival opened his present, and Minerva's gaze shifted to her son. "Mother," He reverently stared at the ancient tome resting in his lap, "where did you find a copy of this?"

"In my travels," she replied as she watched long fingers run across the remnants of the once ornately gilded cover.

Audrey leaned over reading the cover, "Hennessey's Tonics," she murmured, and then turned to Minerva, "As in Rupert Hennessey?"

"I thought the last surviving record was kept in Berlin's Ministry." Tessa remarked as her brother gently opened the cover.

"It so happens, that another copy became available." Minerva replied, "An unaltered and open text, versus the one from Berlin that will only allow scholars to gaze at the first volume and not the latter half of the book."

With great care Percival flipped to page 150, eyes taking in the words. He had been to the Berlin Ministry on many occasions, having scanned the first 149 pages and mesmerized most of them. This evening, though, was the first time he had ever seen the following page. "I'll have to brush up on my German," he said while clearing his throat, "But I think…this says – _Volume II – potions of the flesh, blood and soul_."

"Tessa is your test case for the next several months." Audrey leaned back into the cushions, easing the pain in her back. "I don't think I'm up for trying those until after the little one arrives."

Minerva listened to the light banter being traded back and forth between her children, her mind drifting – again.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Ron met his father and Hermione at the door, "Do ya have a minute?" he pointedly asked her, motioning back outside.

She turned to Arthur and leaned forward kissing his cheek, "Happy Christmas."

"And to you, Hermione." He stated, a faint twinkle having returned to his eyes before he gave his son a nod and hung up his cloak.

Hermione hadn't been keen on going back outside, the cold having long since taken up residence in the tips of her fingers. "Can we head to your father's work shed?" She began walking that way, "I'm a bit cold."

Ron waited until they walked the 130 paces to where his father tinkered, while not necessarily warm without a fire or spells at work; at least the wind was off their faces. "Why'd ya do it, Hermione?" He asked a mixture of hurt and anger in his voice as she cast a lighting charm.

"What?" she turned to him.

"First Charlie then George." He retorted, "Charlie was bad enough, but George…" His voice rose an octave, "George has a bloomin' girlfriend."

"What in blazes are you talking about?" Hermione felt as the world had not only shifted upon its axis but had done an about face.

"Last night!" His right arm emphatically whirled downward, "Or did you conveniently forget it because I was there!"

"Where?"

"George's."

"I didn't go to George's last…" She let her words trail off as Ron's face twisted, tendrils of conversations in the background rushing to the surface. Rory and Harold, polyjuice, George…and she turned back to Ron's now furious expression. "Let it go Ron, it was nothing."

"Nothing! My wife has kissed two of my brothers…and you tell me it's nothing!"

"Ex-wife." Hermione's voice dropping in proportion with how high Ron's rose. "And yes, I am."

He ran a hand through his ginger hair, "At least tell me why? Was it to get at me? To make me see I don't want to lose you?" Hermione's eyes widened at his remark, "I don't. Are you happy? I can't stand the thought. It's killing me…" He took a step closer, features twisted in pain. "I _want _you back, us…to be a family again."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched as Tessa opened her present, and for a moment she recalled the young woman; barely eleven her face alight at receiving her own set of journals with various colors of ink to denote types of entries.

A lot had passed between Mother and daughter since then. The loss of her father, sister and baby brother had caused an even greater divide between them; one that had only begun to mend after the birth of her eldest child although it was still tenuous under the best circumstances.

"This is," delight glinting from the depths of blue eyes, as Tessa peeled the paper away revealing a clear titanium alchemist set. "Mother, I can't…" Her eyes remaining riveted upon the set. "Accept this, it is _too_ much."

"While it may be too much," Percival appreciatively eyed the set, "You're still drooling all over it."

Blue eyes met her mother's, "It cost…"

"Far less than Percival's."

Percival swallowed, "Mother…"

With great effort Minerva kept her face poised while speaking, "Merry Christmas to the both of you."

Tessa and Percival turned to the other, and as one stood up and walked to their mom; giving her a lengthy and heartfelt hug. "Merry Christmas." They both whispered, but the endearment was tarnished with the bleak future of what lay ahead. Or rather, what didn't.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione couldn't breathe; she was too busy staring at him in disbelief.

"I don't want to wake up tomorrow," he took a step closer, "without you." His eyes softening, "I want to be with you, Hermione."

_ Had she been hexed into another dimension?_

"I want to wake up with you in my arms."

Had this been last year; she'd have been elated.

His voice rumbling, "I want to feel you around me."

Had this been six months ago, she'd have been overjoyed.

His hand tentatively reached out, running up her arm as she still stared at him practically paralyzed. "I want to feel your love."

Three months…and she'd have merely said, yes. Excited to have put her family back together.

He leaned forward, lips within inches of hers. "I want to make love to you."

Last month…and…

The warmth of his breath stealing her thought away as moist lips gently touched hers and she gave in…letting the last year, the doubts, the heartache, the pain, the sorrow and above all else, the confusion wash away; and taking comfort in the familiar, the known, and as her lips hesitantly melded against his.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva closed the door, a sigh leaving her lips as she let her guard down; tears welling up in her eyes as she made her way to retrieve a much needed refill. She set the tumbler down and reached for the bottle when she heard the handle click. And before she heard it swing open, she donned her armor and stilled her face.

"Mother?" She could hear both of her children step through the door, and Minerva spun around; a tender expression appearing on her face. "We both," Percival glanced to Tessa and back to her, "well, we just want to make sure that you haven't…spent you know," Percival swallowed hard, "we're just worried about how you've been spending your money. Supplementing Hogwarts, the gala at the Manor, last evening, the private line you've re-developed for Helena, our gifts tonight and you still have the ongoing costs of maintaining the Manor and the Ridge."

_Of all the things for them to worry over, _a smile touched her eyes, "I know it may seem frivolous, but I can assure you; both of you, that while my time may be limited, my faculties are still sound. Hence, your worry in this instance is misplaced."

"Mother, we just want to be sure that…you aren't spending all of your money because you don't think you'll be here in a few months." Intense blue eyes meeting hers, "You don't know how long you'll live."

"You have no need to worry that I shan't be able to take care of my holdings and estates; nor," She wandlessly banished her glass, no longer feeling the urge to drink – here. "That either of you shall have to supplement my finances with your own." She strode forward, careful to keep anything other than tenderness and love from the inflection of her voice. "As for my presents to each of you, they are with love from me. So, please do enjoy."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione didn't think, didn't let the confusion from the last several weeks intrude, trying to lose herself from her recent attraction and thoughts regarding her mentor, colleague and friend as she pressed her lips back against his with a fervor that surprised him.

She ran her hand up his cheek, feeling the soft stubble; as her fingers slipped into his hair pulling him closer. Needing to feel something as their lips parted and she pushed into him, other than what she did.

He moaned into her mouth as his hand slid up her waist, "Hermione…let's go…back to your house, and…"

"Don't talk." She muttered as she captured his lips again wanting to feel the spark that used to encompass her as they made love.

Large hands pushing up her shirt, sliding along her skin; and as his hands skimmed across her bra…she pulled back.

Blue eyes stared questioningly at her, "Hermione…?"

"I can't…" She licked her lips stepping back, "you, me…" she felt his hands leave her skin, "this…" Her eyes dropping to his hand and then back to his eyes. "I love you, Ron. That'll never change, but…" She ran a hand through her hair, wishing she could lose herself in his blue eyes as she once did. Wishing she could forget about her own tumultuous thoughts and just feel, even if for one night. "I can't take you back, because…I'm not in love with you anymore."

"That kiss…the flush of your face," he reached out to try and touch her but she stepped farther away. "Says otherwise."

She gently shook her head, "Don't…"

"I want you."

"I wanted you for months, had been waiting for you to get yourself together and living through hell; and now that you finally have," Her throat caught, "I can't do it Ron. I'm not that person anymore." Tears threatened her eyes, "And I don't want to be. Six months ago I told you that you are like a brother, and you are."

"Hermione, you don't mean that."

"I do, and I can't…Ron." Brown eyes pleading with him to understand, "it'd be like you kissing Luna."

"Hermione!" He screamed out aghast.

"It's over."

"And you're going to what?" Anger flared, "Date one of my brothers?"

"Grow up." She snapped, "Charlie asked me out at Minerva's gala, and I told him no. As for George, he's involved and we are both quite content as friends. I have no interest in Percy and Bill's married."

"I won't let you go." He reached out, grasping her forearm. "I'll get you back."

Brown eyes pierced his, "You had me Ron and you didn't want me." Her voice turning cold, "And now that I've left, you want me back and…I've moved on." She pulled her arm out from his grasp and turned away.

His hand darted out, stopping her movement as he clutched her shoulder. "I'll get you back." He breathed as he stepped closer.

Her jaw clenched, disbelieving that she had even thought about making love to him; feeling nauseous at herself. "No, Ron; you won't."

"Hermione…"

"I'll see you tomorrow." She stated and the pressure from his hand lifted as he was pushed magically backwards. "Good night."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva no sooner flooed back into her office and her fingers were already unsealing the seam and opening her outer robes; letting her neck breathe.

"It seemed as though the night went well," Albus commented as her outer robes fell away from her neck showing her light mint colored under-robe.

"Yes, overall it did…" Minerva glanced at the stack of notes sitting on her desk, "I think Percival will be up for the whole of the night reading."

His laughter bubbled across the office, "I have no doubt."

"And Tessa…" Bonnie suddenly appeared across from her desk gazing up at her as she finished, "was momentarily speechless at the alchemist set."

"Wherever did you find a clear one?"

"In Moscow." She answered before devoting her attention to Bonnie, "Is everything alright?"

"Fine, Mistress. I was, however, hoping to speak with you for a moment."

"Of course," She palmed her walking stick and stepped around the desk, motioning to the sofa.

Bonnie held fast, "I…" she glanced to the wall of portraits, eyes remaining fixed upon Albus for a moment before turning to Minerva. "Have need to speak with you in private."

Minerva stopped before her faithful friend, "Bonnie?"

"It is most important." Golden eyes stared upwards.

"The children…"

"Are safe." Bonnie reassured, "I wish to speak with you regarding a more personal issue."

"Then we shall go to my rooms."

Bonnie cleared her throat, "I prefer not to."

Minerva noticed the way her eyes darted to Albus' portrait and back, "The Manor?" She asked almost afraid of her answer, knowing that Albus' portrait had been returned to the Ridge this morning. If the elves had returned to the Ridge, Bonnie was assured they'd be alone.

"Is there anything else you need from Hogwarts this evening?" Bonnie asked signifying that the Manor was amenable.

Minerva opened her mouth to say that she did need to read her correspondence, to check in with both Filius and Elgin but thought better of it. She turned to the Founder's portrait, "Please give my apologies to Filius, I…will be back in the morning." _In all of her time of knowing Bonnie, she had only wished to speak with her in private under most dire circumstances._

Rowena nodded, "Understood."

Minerva turned to Bonnie who was already reaching for her arm, "Everything else can wait."

Bonnie's fingers brushed her robe and the next the minute they were standing in the library at the Manor. "May I get you a glass of malt?"

Minerva frowned, "Bonnie what's the matter?"

"I am going to have a glass of malt, Minerva." She snapped her fingers and two glasses appeared, "Did you want one?"

From the tone of Bonnie's voice, Minerva knew she'd need at least one glass if not two. "It would be appreciated." Minerva moved to the chair, easing down; the glass suddenly appearing at the table beside her.

"Minerva…" Bonnie sat down opposite of her charge, "I need to speak with you and I find the topic," small knobby knuckles gripped the shrunken tumbler ensconced within her fingers tighter. "Rather difficult."

"Are you alright?"

"My health is fine." Bonnie assured the woman.

"And Elgin?"

Despite the pending conversation, Bonnie found herself smiling. "Doing well."

"If this is pertaining to my health, I ask that we not discuss this tonight."

Bonnie swallowed, sometimes forgetting how intimidating the Mistress could be, like now. "It's regarding Madame Hermione."

With practiced poise, Minerva asked the necessary question fear instantly flaring across her breast as she forced herself to remain sitting. "Has something happened?"

The last of Bonnie's doubt disintegrated upon hearing the slight distress lace Minerva's voice in conjunction with readily apparent concern cloud previously clear eyes. "No, she is fine Minerva; and due back from the Burrow this evening with her children."

Minerva felt a heavy breath escape from her lips, immediately covered by her tumbler and the generous sip of malt before asking the next obvious question as she steadied her still rapidly beating heart. "I'm afraid I don't understand Bonnie, what about her?"

"You…" Bonnie took a sip of the burning liquid, steeling her nerves. "I do not understand how, you and Albus were bound, are still bound –" A river of dread began coursing through Minerva's veins as Bonnie continued speaking, the pounding of her heart deadening out all other noise as she read Bonnie's still moving lips, "but you are having feelings for her."

Minerva felt as if Bonnie had somehow managed to take the air from the room, creating a vacuum. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't breathe.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: I suppose we can 'hope' for a more traditional Christmas tomorrow..._


	70. Chapter 67 December 25th, 2009

_A/N: This is an exceedingly long chapter (19k words = 37 single spaced pgs) – hence the delay in posting. So, grab yourself a drink before sitting down to read; and according to the story – Merry Christmas everyone!_

**Chapter 67 ~ December 25****th****, 2009 (Friday) – Christmas Day**

Filius frowned at the short note,

_Filius,_

_ I am sorry but I'll be at the Ridge for the morning._

_ Minerva_

He glanced to the sleeping form of his wife and back at the note; opting to slip his robe on and let her sleep for a while longer. With little noise, he left their room and lit the fire; "Did Minerva return last night?"

"No." Rowena succinctly answered.

"And this morning?"

"No, Bonnie brought it asking Elgin to distribute the note."

Immediately Filius' worry dissipated; _she must be having breakfast with her children, _he merrily thought.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Bonnie cleared her throat, "I understand, but the entire staff is to be moved to the Manor this morning."

"We just got back…"

"There are linens…"

"The decorations…"

Bonnie clapped her hands only once, the room of elves falling silent. "Now. The Mistress is to be having a conversation with the Master and no one is to be at the Ridge."

"What if she'se needs something?" Zyi questioned.

"I shall remain; everyone else is to relocate to the Manor for the day."

"Bonnie…"

"He is coming from Hogwarts now; you have less than two minutes to leave."

All further arguments vanished as did her co-workers in a series of muffled pops as everyone departed to retrieve what they wished to take with them.

Shoulders sinking at the mere notion of the conversation to be had, wishing her destination was the Manor as well.

This was a Christmas not to be remembered.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione blearily blinked her eyes as her daughter grabbed her hand, "Come mom, there are presents!"

"Presents!" Hugo's voice ringing in from the living area. "Mum! Presents!"

Sitting up, she swung her legs off her bed; and Rose leapt from the room yelling as she did.

"She's coming!"

Hermione summoned her robe, "Milksy." The solitary word sounding like gravel as she eased her arms into the heavy flannel overcoat.

"Miss Hermione's," The elf appeared, "Good morning and Merry Christmas."

"And to you," Hermione swallowed hoping to dispel her dry throat, "Is it possible to get some coffee while the children open their presents?"

"At once."

Milksy vanished and Hermione absently slid her slippers on while tying her belt and making her way into the living suite; the children sitting beside the small Christmas tree that had mysteriously appeared during the night, her presents for the children scattered beneath.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva's fingers shook as she placed the final pin in her hair, the redness of her eyes about to swallow what remained of her green irises.

_How was she to get through the day? Let alone the next hour?_

Her stomach lurched; her bond pulsed and she felt a band of sweat break across her forehead as she stared at her reflection.

Even with a slight glamour, she looked haggard.

And why wouldn't she? She had been up for the whole of last night after her brief conversation with Bonnie. If one could call it a conversation, it had been mostly one-sided.

A conversation she had replayed a hundred times; and one that while exceedingly difficult would be much better than the one to be had with her husband. She could feel his brewing anger as her own tumultuous emotions rippled between them; emotions that included guilt, heartache, loss, yearning - and one that she would not give voice to.

It was a conversation that they needed to have, and while preferable to have it on any day other than today; she knew that neither could wait till the morrow.

Their bond forcing them to be honest and exposing the truth even when she didn't want to admit it.

A truth that would irrevocably affect not only her life, but Albus' too and _their _life.

And it was tearing her apart.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Jordan smiled at her parents who, still dressed in their sleepwear, emerged from the flames; her father's arm wrapped about her mother's waist. "You're sure?"

"We've been up." Helena answered, "And Christmas does only come once a year."

Jordan's grin broadened, "The coffee's perking."

"Perhaps it will help the room from continuing to spin." Harold commented only half-heartedly joking.

"After we left last night, did the two of you…continue celebrating?" Jordan inquired noting the slight redness about their startling blue eyes.

"Grandpa, Grandma!" Samantha exclaimed as she walked by to the living room, "You both came!" She veered into the room at breakneck speed, arms outstretched.

"We opened a bottle of malt." Helena remarked while Harold scooped up their granddaughter.

"One of the one's Minerva gave you?"

Helena kissed Samantha's cheek as Harold responded, "Well a rather empty one now."

Jordan blinked at her parents; she knew they were at times gregarious, but she tended to think so merely in social settings not at their own home. "We didn't leave until after one."

Harold ruffled Samantha's hair as he set her down, "Tell the others to wait a moment so we can see what they got too."

Samantha bellowed out her sister and brother's name as she ran from the room, telling them that their grandparents were there and they had to wait.

"You used to think those stories from your Aunt were embellished?" Harold remarked as they began walking towards the living room.

"Apparently they weren't." Jordan said shaking her head at her parents' antics.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George marveled at his lover as he stepped from his home in only a kilt, shafts of the morning's sun sprinkling across his bare chest; "Aren't you cold?"

Grey eyes sparkled, "Figured you'd share your blanket." He strode forward carrying two mugs, pausing beside George. "Unless ya wished ta be alone for a bit longer?"

George unwrapped the thick blanket from his body, the cold air rushing against his chest and Rory nestled in beside him. George taking his coffee enabling Rory to stretch out his arm and wrap it around his shoulders; the blanket wandlessly enlarged enabling them to both be covered as he leaned against Rory's solidarity.

Both men quietly sitting ensconced in a tartan blanket upon Rory's porch, the elder wizard holding the younger one as they watched the sun rise above the mountainous terrain.

"Merry Christmas, George." Rory's thick brogue breaking the stillness as he gently kissed the side of George's head, momentarily tightening his arm.

George turned, blue eyes meeting grey, love reflecting back; "Merry Christmas Rory." He whispered against his lovers lips, the sunrise forgotten.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius stared at the invaluable gift sitting in his lap, his brilliant mind truly lost for words as he stared at the rare quill.

"That looks to be a phoenix quill." Pomona commented adjusting her glasses as she reached over to take the small box.

"It is." Filius simply stated, too shocked to comment farther.

"Where on earth did she ever find it?" Pomona gently picked up the lightweight quill.

"It is Minerva," Filius said by way of answer, knowing his wife would understand. On multiple occasions they had witnessed Minerva procure items that made rare seem ordinary.

As was the case this morning, the gifts that she had respectively procured for them were nothing short of extraordinary. The phoenix quill for Filius and three different species, two of each, saplings from the Amazon rain forest believed to have been extinct but known for their restorative health properties.

Filius donned his glasses as Pomona handed him the note she had received from Minerva; and he handed her his.

_Pomona, Filius,_

_They looked rather intriguing, _

_and in need of a tender and  
_

_caring hand; I believe they'll  
_

_find a glorious home in the _

_new addition alongside greenhouse 4. _

_Merry Christmas,  
_

_ Minerva _

_xoxo  
_

_Filius, _

_The days, my friend, have become longer_

_while the nights shorter and the paperwork_

_endless at either time. May this help ease_

_the ache within your joints as the years pass. _

_ Merry Christmas - _

_Minerva_

_May you and Pomona both enjoy the time with Lizza and I wish you both_

_much happiness in this coming year. _

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione took the gold wrapped parcel with thick elegant ribbon adorning the package; "Thank you, Rose." She said wondering what gifts had been missed. She had already opened several from the other Professors at Hogwarts; the elves having obviously distributing them last night.

"There's even one addressed with the same prettys paper as yours to Hugo and me."

"And I." Hermione corrected as she watched Rose drag a large box to her brother who was already trying to tear open the paper. Unlike the previous gifts, despite Hugo's many attempts, the paper wouldn't tear; and Hermione couldn't help but smile at her son's growing frustration.

"No, no, no." Rose said shaking her head, "You don't tear it, you…" She tried to peel the paper along the seam. Again the paper didn't tear.

Hugo laughed at his sister as her face turned red. "Yous isn't opening too!"

Hermione glanced down at her own immaculately wrapped gift, fingers spinning it around and noting the small card tucked beneath the ribbon; she lifted the folded paper and with ease broke the miniature seal.

A smile immediately touching her lips, _she should have known_, she thought at the distinct handwriting contained within the card; _the gifts were from Minerva_.

_Hermione,_

_ A bit of practicality lined with a hint of extravagance. _

_ My fondest wishes that you and yours have a Merry Christmas,_

_ Minerva_

Gently setting the note beside her, she reached down and untied the bow; the paper slowly falling away from the box.

"Wow." Both of her children said at once as they watched their mother reach for the lid. "Whose it's from, mom?" Rose asked having stood up to be closer, Hugo clambering towards her.

"Minerva." Hermione answered as she opened the lid and was greeted by a thin sheet of gold tissue paper, and with sudden trepidation she lifted her fingers and slowly peeled away the last remaining barrier; revealing a beautiful midnight blue fabric that seemed to sparkle with the flickering light of the fire.

"That's pretty." Rose whispered, tiny fingers reaching down to touch the material.

"How's I opens," Hugo went back to his box, "Mine?" He asked tugging on the unmoving ribbon and drawing both his mother's and sister's attention.

"Is there a card?" Hermione glanced down to her own present, and stood. Despite her curiosity, she'd finish hers in a minute. "That," She reached for the small envelope. "Is a card. And Minerva seems to have placed a spell on your packages that won't let you open them until you've read her card."

Hugo turned teary eyes to his mother, "I can'ts." He turned back to the package, lips beginning to quiver at the thought of not being able to open up the pretty present.

She sat down beside him, "How about I read it to you?" Bobbing his head, he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, "As I think Minerva would want you to open your gift."

His fingers were picking at the ribbon, "Can I now?"

"When I'm done reading, alright?"

He nestled closer, pulling his wrapped present with him.

"Hugo," Hermione found herself clearing her throat, "May your puppies, birds and rabbits follow you wherever you may go; even when I am not in your company. With love, Aunt Minerva."

"What's that mean, mum?" Hugo asked staring at her.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" She pointed to the gift and her son needed no additional encouragement, his tiny fingers pulling on the now moveable ribbon and within seconds the paper was gone from the parcel revealing a small cage with a stuffed animal in it. Hugo turned his head to the side and looked at it; wondering.

Hermione went to reach for the small latch that would open the cage, but Hugo's hand was already through the magical gate; having not needed to open it. His fingers touched the fluffy animal and at once it sprung to life; the bird flapping its wings and Hugo's face lit up. His fingers grazed the plush, albeit moving stuffed animal, and with a laughing voice said; "Puppy." At once, it became that which he said. "Rabbit." And a blue eared rabbit was not housed only centimeters from his fingers within the cage.

"Mom, can you help me," Rose glanced from Hugo to her own present, "Open mine?" The anticipation etched upon her daughter's face; because if her brother got _that_, what was she going to get?

Hermione slid across the floor as Hugo bound about the room, laughing in glee at his present. "Alright dear, hand me the card." She stated as she kept Hugo's firmly within her fingers.

"Here mum." Rose took the card and gave it to her.

"Now," She turned back to her daughter, maneuvering around so as to be beside her, "You'll have to help me read it." She slit the small wax seal and opened the card.

Rose pointed to her name, "Rose," Hermione nodded, "Let your im…" She turned to her mother, "What's that word?"

Hermione pointed to the letters as she sounded at the word, "Imagination."

"Imagention."

"Imagination." Hermione stressed the vowels as she repeated it.

"Imagination." Rose repeated and at Hermione's nod went back to reading, "Let your imagination, take flit…"

"Flight."

"Flight." Rose reiterated. "And come to li...fe. Life. With love, Aunt Minerva."

"Wonderful," Hermione said as she skimmed the card again, Rose already pulling the ribbon apart.

_Rose, _

_ Let your imagination take flight and come to life. _

_ With love, Aunt Minerva._

Hermione watched as her daughter's face quickly matched her son's as she opened her present from Minerva. She received a drawing set that the pictures would move so many paces forward; set up like reading a book, the picture would move from left to right.

Hermione watched her children for a few minutes, her heart fluttering at what Minerva had found for them; they were truly perfect gifts. They had been happy with hers, but the look of utter jubilance etched across their faces made it feel like Christmas. A Christmas she hadn't known she had been missing; as hers had not had that feel for years.

Wandlessly, she summoned her present to her as Rose was frantically scratching a scene across the drawing pad and Hugo was throwing the puppy into the air and yelling 'bird'; the bird flying a few meters before landing into his waiting hands and he'd repeat the process all over again. She watched for another minute before turning her attention to her own still mostly unwrapped present.

Hermione pulled the thick midnight blue material from the box, holding it upright and blinked several times. She had believed it to be a new set of robes, but she couldn't have been more wrong as it was a cloak of the same design as the one Minerva had given her before that had been her brother's; except it appeared slightly smaller across the shoulders as if it had been tailored to fit her. Setting it on her lap, she peered into the box and was surprised to see a rich black material still resting within; with ease she pulled it from the box as well to reveal another beautifully crafted cloak.

Doubting there would be anymore, she tipped the box to ensure there wasn't; and couldn't stop the partial frown from crossing her face at seeing what appeared to be a wand box at the bottom.

Hermione reached in and pulled the box from its depth; wondering what Minerva would have gotten her that she nestled into a wand box from Olivander's. With a curiosity not having had in decades, she removed the lid; and stared at the elegantly carved wand. The length of the wand looked to have been carved to mimic a twisting motion; while the nub between the wand and handled appeared to have a Celtic knot inlaid around the girth and faint words etched upon the handle.

Hermione noticed the card adhered to the top inside of the box and before picking up the wand opened it,

_ The wood is of cedar and the core of dragon. It is a valuable wand and will make an ideal second one; which I implore you to carry though I hope you never have need to use it. _

She recalled the brief conversation with Minerva regarding her carrying a second wand; she had thought little of it at the time – apparently Minerva had not. As her children's laughter echoed about her, a tendril of fear and reality pull at her own heart at the meaning behind the small gift sitting in her lap from Minerva and the impending dangers it conveyed.

However, despite the ominous meaning and nature behind the gift, it was evident that Minerva wanted to make sure that she would be returning to her family. And Hermione felt a burst of warmth ignite in her soul at the thoughtfulness and continual vigilance that Minerva exhibited regarding her family and her.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Teng swept through the Manor noting that only three other elves were here upon his arrival, along with the Mistress. He was about to inquire if she needed any assistance when she solemnly exited her room; and with measured steps walked the length of the hall appearing as if her mind was elsewhere.

He noted that unlike the previous times throughout the week; her hair was spun up into its stark bun; wearing her emerald robes and ebony boots as she descended the stairs. Her tender smile and easy manner having been shed and replaced with the formidable woman striding towards the floo.

Bonnie had said that she and the Master were to have a conversation; and he felt his ears wilt at the nature of what it entailed. It looked as if the Mistress was bracing herself for a battle, and for the first time that day; he was content to be at the Manor. Thankful that he, along with almost everyone else, had had to vacate the Ridge; feeling sorry that Bonnie was not afforded that luxury.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, George knew he should leave and go to the Burrow this morning for their traditional breakfast; but it was still early, the air brisk across his heated flesh as the sun's first rays continued spilling over the sprawling hills. But, for the moment, he was enjoying Christmas with his Highland lover; whose hand had begun stroking him in a fashion that caused a moan to slip unbidden from his lips as he reached behind him with his left hand to entangle it in Rory's hair. Their kisses becoming less ardent and more sensual as George leaned farther backwards into Rory's chest; while Rory's hand gently brushed the soft hairs of his chest and grazed over his nipples.

"I want ta make luv ta ya," Rory whispered as he nipped along George's neck and ear.

George nestled farther back, loving the feel of Rory's length hardening against him, still feeling moderately torn. "Perhaps a quick…"

Rory's fingers gently tightened along George's chest pulling him closer, "its Christmas, luv."

"I know and I have to be at the Burrow for breakfast," Rory's tongue raked along the base of his neck, causing George to tip his head farther back.

"Miss it." Rory murmured against the salty skin.

"I can't," George turned, "Something spooked Dad yesterday and…" George lost track of the conversation as Rory's fingers found his hardening flesh, wrapping his hand around him.

"Aye and ya'll go." Rory said, "But later."

"Rory…I…"

"Do ya want me?" Rory asked as gently stroked the length of his shaft, "It feels as though ya do," He eased him around, so they were facing the other.

"Later." George whispered, "You can have me later."

"Aye, I intend ta, but…" He draped his legs over George's, "I want ya now too." George whimpered at feeling Rory's hardening flesh gently brush his own. "But, ya have ta want me too."

George leaned in, capturing Rory's lips with his own and pressing Rory back onto the porch; his hands bracing his body on either side of Rory's shoulders as they deepened their kiss. His tongue plunging into Rory's mouth as he pressed his hips downward, causing Rory to moan against him as their waist connected. Rory's hand coming to rest upon his young lover's backside to bring him closer; the contact from the base of their shafts causing George to break away and hiss in pleasure as he rocked into him. "I want you Rory." He pushed upwards and back down as Rory's hips rose.

"Then…" Rory let go of George's hip and brought his hand between them, "Hold still, luv." He wrapped his fingers around his engorged flesh and slowly brought it up to George's; their bodies trembling with effort at not moving as his thumb embraced George too. Slowly he ran his hand down their heated shafts before letting his fingers fall away, "now."

"I feel," George swallowed as he slowly moved, "you, against me."

"Aye," Rory rasped, hands moving to either side of George's hips. "An adjoining spell…"

"I," His hips beginning to buck despite wanting to remain still, "Rory, it's so tight."

Rory's head lulled against George's, "Aye…" His hands pushing in time with George's movements.

"You're so, hard." George murmured as warm hard flesh stroked his own.

"Ahhh, luv." Rory's fingers tightened into his flesh.

"Rory, I." George couldn't stop the way his hips pushed down, thrusting. "oohhh, yes."

Instinct taking over as their bodies pushed and pulled and sighs of moans being traded back and forth; pressure and pleasure building.

Rory pushed into George's thrust, "More, luv."

George felt Rory meet him, "yes."

"More." Rory arched.

"Yes," George plunged downward.

"Mo…"

"Ro..ry, please."

"yes, luv." Rory rumbled, "Cum all over me."

"I love you." George muttered as he thrust downward.

"Come, luv." Murmured into the morning air, "ahh, luv…I feel ya, comin'…ahhh…"

George's muscles tightened as Rory arched into him and he thrust, feeling a warmth coat the length of him.

Rory's body quaking as he murmured George's name and George thrust one final time, his soul screaming his release as his lover's name echoed across the highlands. "RORY!"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Audrey stepped around the chair, fingers running through her husband's hair. "Have you been up all night reading?"

"…uh-huh." He marked his place as he glanced to his wife, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"He's calmed down a bit since last night." Audrey said as she maneuvered into the family room.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Feel like perking some coffee?"

"Coffee?" Percival questioned as he stood, "You sure?"

"It just sounds good."  
"Alright," He didn't dispute her statement knowing that her food choices of late had been slightly off from usual, including coffee. She traditionally drank tea at all hours and perhaps once a year would she join him for a cup of coffee. Perhaps, this was the once for the coming year. He stopped at the threshold, "Jordan sent over some Danish this morning; it's complimentary with coffee."

"What kind?"

"Glazed caramel with a sprinkle of fresh nuts."

"Are you having any?"

Percival stepped through the door, talking over his shoulder. "I'll have another bite of yours. Already had one an hour ago."

"Jordan's been up that long?"

"For at least two," Percival commented back.

Audrey sighed, "We better hope our son likes late nights."

"What darling?" Percival peeked his head back around the door.

"Us, early mornings and our son."

Percival groaned, "I'm trying not to think about it. Roasted or hazelnut?"

"Roasted, and you better start thinking about it. Look at Tessa…" She raised her voice as he retreated back to the kitchen, "and Jordan. The only person who gets up earlier is your mother."  
"Well, maybe we can have her give us a wake-up call…" Percival's voice died away as he processed his quip; and the ever growing reality that his mother would not be there in a year. He wandlessly boiled some water and dropped a tea bag in, brain still upon his mother as he grabbed the Danish, two cups and the pot; mindlessly walking back to Audrey.

"What were you saying about wake-up call?" Audrey asked as Percival emerged from the hallway, but at seeing his face altered the course of the conversation immediately realizing what had shaken her husband. _He had inferred his mother could give them a wake-up call; and she won't be here._ "Are you having a cup?"

"Yeah," He set the tray down, "and just, thought it would be nice to have mother help us in the morning for a short bit; that's all."  
Audrey poured the beverage and blinked at seeing the tea; with an internal sigh, she figured she'd muddle through. "Two sugars?"

"I'll get it honey." He leaned forward plopping two sugars into the cup, and pouring his own.

She watched as wandlessly stirred his cup, and with a distant expression took a sip unawares that he was drinking tea versus coffee; another indication of how deeply the events regarding his mother were affecting.

_I'll make a cup for myself later,_ she thought swallowing the normally placid chamomile tea that tasted too bitter today as she tore off piece of Danish to cut the flavor.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

With purpose she didn't feel, Minerva strode into the den; meeting the ever watchful blue eyes of her husband. "Merry Christmas, love."

"And to you, my dear." Albus reached up, pulling his half moon spectacles off. "Breakfast?"

With a weighted sigh, she took her own glasses off. "You know as well as I, we need to talk."

"And I also know that you have and continue to lose weight from the stress you are under and the hours you are awake."

"I could feel you earlier as well as now, Albus; please, let us talk about it."

"Talk?" His voice chortled, "The slow degradation of your feelings and you want to _talk _about it?"

She could feel his anger ripple over her, causing her own temper to immediately flare which she tamped down with the whole of her willpower. "Yes, I do."

"Today –?"

"And will it matter if it is today or the morrow that we speak of this?"

Albus narrowed his eyes, the truth burning across their bond. "No."

Silence reigning between them as they stared at the other; both weighing what needed to be said and what should be said.

She could feel his pull upon the bond, her and even Hogwarts; and an ethereal form stepped from the frame.

Bonnie watched as the shape morphed and slowly became the familiar form of the Master; although his firm lines were no longer made of skin rather an ethereal ghostlike, energy form. Large droplets of tears swelled against her eyes as she watched a shiver ripple up Minerva's body; the drain upon her easily discernable as her face flushed while the rest of her skin became ashen.

_She stared at emerald eyes that had become as wide as saucers, her mouth slackening and Bonnie remained quiet as she watched the Mistress grapple with her statement._

Albus' voice shaking Bonnie from her own reverie, "Love; how can you doubt," His hand slowly trailed down her cheek, "this?"

Minerva raised her hand upwards, resting upon his; "It has never been about doubting our love."

"We _can_ get through this." His gentle voice trying to reassure her.

Her voice broke as a tear slid down her cheek and into his palm, "I don't know how, Albus."

"You must believe in us." He whispered as he turned her face towards him, tears glinting in the morning twilight.

"I'm trying." Came her heartfelt answer, "But I'm so tired."

"Then rest in our love." He pulled her to him, wrapping his long arm around her slender form.

She collapsed against him, a rush of lemon and chocolate permeating her senses; as she clutched him to her. "And when you are gone?" She murmured into his chest, "And I'm still here?"  
"I'm always here." He whispered against her ear.

"No." She ran her hand up his back, shaking her head. "Not like this."

"It is only for a short time longer." He tightened his arm around her, kissing her hair.

"I don't have the strength."

"You do."

"We aren't talking a mere handful of days," she pushed back, enabling her to see his eyes. "Or even weeks."

"Even if its months, you must hold on love."

"How?" Her voice rising, "It's ripping me apart."

"Just hold on."  
"With what?" She questioned, pulling her fingers upwards; the tips of her fingers black from the magic it took to bring him here, and it was slowly spreading up the flesh of her hands. "I have _nothing_ left, Albus." Raw emotion coursing through her. "And what am I to do regarding Hermione?"

"You must hold onto us, our love and our bond."

"I'm trying."

"And I have every faith that you'll succeed."

"No, Albus." Her lilt becoming heavily prevalent, "I," guilt washing through her, "am losing."

"What do you mean, losing?" His words flitting between them, denial replacing her guilt.

"The attraction I once felt for Hermione has morphed into feelings that are threatening to swallow me whole."

"It has to do with your animagus problem, it'll sort itself out."

Tears freely spilled down her lashes, "No, Albus."

He searched her eyes, felt across their bond, his voice trembling as he spoke from his heart. "You have to fight these feelings."

"The Ministry, Johannes, Hogwarts, our children, the animagus situation," She gasped, "There is nothing left, Albus;" Her arm flinging out, voice breaking as Gaelic spilled across the air, "_to fight my feelings too._"

"You _**must**_. As these feelings are short-lived."

"Short lived?"

"Transitory," his gentle voice grading along her nerves, "Fleeting compared to our love. You only have to sort through your animagus situation."

Emerald eyes flashed, "_My_ animagus problem?"

Bonnie closed her eyes, unwilling and unable to watch as their magic crackled in the air between them; the blackness burning farther up Minerva's milky fingers.

"The one that flames desires that you know as well as I that I can no longer satiate." His ire growing, "And haven't been able to as our magic wanes."

"I never sought these forsaken flashes; nor being," Her arms spread outward, "_here,_ and separated from you."

"Separated! Do you think it's been any easier for me?"

"Easier! Is that what being alive has been for me?"

The intensity of their anger growing.

"You have an entire world to exist within; while I live within a tapestry of portraits."

"And my body is being pulled from this world into the nether regions that now makes up yours."

"And if I were here!" His breathe grazing against her face, as his magic intensified and lips crashed against hers.

The sudden burst of unbridled passion negated the intense burning raking up her hands and arms as she met his kiss with her own heated response before breaking apart, "If you were here," her legs gave way, collapsing as the pain engulfed her, "I wouldn't have burgeoning feelings for her."

Albus' back struck the wall, body sliding downward, pain stealing away his anger and most of his breath; "Do you love her?"

Tears blurring her vision as the dampness of her hair stuck to her cheek; her bun having come out, "I don't…know."

"But you do care for her?" He asked as his body shimmered.

"God Albus," She gasped as their bond pulsed, "I've tried…not to!" She cried out.

_"Don't _give _up _on _us_." His voice skipping between this world and the next.

Her ears began ringing, as her head lulled to the side; "I…won't." She rasped before their bond pulsed, a roar rushed past her ears, light discharged outwards and her world went black.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A shaky hand extended outward in the now silent house, afraid of what she'd find as she pushed the door open. Yellow eyes peered into den, heart stopping at seeing Minerva splayed out across the floor. Her eyes immediately darted to Albus' portrait; it was empty.

Hurriedly, Bonnie covered the space separating her from Minerva and she reached forward feeling a wave of relief pulse through her at the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

With reverent care, she barely touched her shoulder; transporting her to Hogwarts. Bonnie adjusted her arms, summoning her glasses and wand setting them by Minerva's bed when Elgin arrived beside her. His eyes asking what had happened to Minerva, and at her brief look to the empty frame; his shoulders drooped and matched hers.

Elgin joined Bonnie, both quietly and respectfully assisted the other and changed her clothes in conjunction of removing her hair pins; placing her under the blankets as the Hogwarts' magic began rippling across the room and coalescing around Minerva. Bonnie grit her teeth as a whimper slipped from Minerva; blackened fingers tightening into a ball and she forced herself to remain motionless, and not look away. The magic stilled, sinking into Minerva and the reaction instantly brought tears to her eyes; her grip tightening upon Elgin's hand as Minerva thrashed upon the bed, a cry being pulled from her depths before she fell backwards, the skin along her arms and hands healed as murky green eyes blinked heavenward.

"Bon..nie?" Minerva's raspy voice called out.

"I am here, Minerva." Bonnie let go of Elgin's hand, his own fingers remaining until they had moved too far apart; and she was by the side of the bed.

"…e…" Minerva tried to swallow, her mouth to dry as she forced the words past parched lips. "The…Manor."

"Minerva, you need to rest." Bonnie said pulling the covers back up. "You are at Hogwarts," she whispered.

Long fingers gripped at Bonnie's, holding them still as she turned her head; "Take me…to…the…Manor."

Bonnie stared into the heavily lidded eyes that begged for sleep, and slowly nodded. "I will prepare the room and come back within a few moments; Elgin will be right here if you require anything."

"Wat…er." Minerva tiredly whispered as she let go of Bonnie's hand and closed her eyes, nodding.

"I will'se be right back." Elgin called out and with a pop vanished; Bonnie cast one final look upon Minerva and left too. With expediency rarely witnessed, Bonnie flew through the Manor as if the very wind was at her beck and call. The fires springing to life throughout the main areas, including Minerva's bedroom; a fresh set of mint colored flannel sheets miraculously replacing the maroon colored ones, as several blankets appeared before being buried beneath a thick quilt.

She stopped by the kitchen, boiling water; and having Teng and the rest of the elves begin to ready the rest of the Manor as she reappeared back at Hogwarts. Minerva shakingly sipping the water Elgin had brought for her.

"If you are ready to travel, your room is prepared."

Minerva extended out her hand to Elgin, and he quietly took the glass; Bonnie reached forward and with a nod, Minerva was leaning back in her bed at the Manor. Seconds blurred together as she felt the covers move of her battered body under Bonnie's expert care. It was at the point that the light began to fade from the room, that she realized that Bonnie was drawing the curtains, and that she'd be alone momentarily.

"Bon…nie."

Bonnie finished drawing the curtains closed before responding, "Yes, Minerva."

"Last night, I didn't answer…"

"You do not have to." She patted Minerva's arm. "It was a difficult topic and one that I was merely making you aware of."

"But I do." She whispered, "Because, I must ask a favor that I have…" she blinked the tears back, her throat catching as she tried to speak. "No right to ask."

"Name it, Minerva and it shall be done." Bonnie stated faithfully.

"As the days continue to pass, I am sure…that my feelings will intensify and the burgeoning love I feel for her will only grow more profound."  
Bonnie stared, shocked at the woman's heartbreaking admission.

"I need you to assist as my cycle approaches each month until my passing; to help me…" Tears slipped down milky features creating a small damp area along the sheet, "to remain faithful to my husband."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Wherever did Minerva find that toy for Hugo?" Jean broached as her daughter helped carrying in plates from super.

"I don't know." Hermione answered honestly, "But she has an innate knack for choosing presents."

"From Rose's commentary, she seems as thrilled with hers as Hugo is with his."

Hermione wrapped up the bread, "She had already drawn a picture before we went to the Burrow this afternoon."

"And yourself?"

"Two cloaks, the one I wore here this evening and a midnight blue one as well; along with," She paused debating on whether to share the detail with her mother, but at seeing familiar brown eyes gazing at her in question she realized that she had paused too long. "A wand."

"I thought," a puzzled expression laced Jean's features, "you had a wand."

"I do."

She turned fully to her daughter, "Is there something wrong with yours?"

"Mom, it's hard to explain."

Jean reached over, absently turning the water off, "Then you'd better start." As she leaned against the counter, towel draped over her shoulder; obviously waiting for her answer.

An audible sigh left her lips, exasperated at herself for saying too much, "I've told you and dad that there is a conflict brewing in the wizarding world." Jean nodded for her to continue, "The man behind it was once married to Minerva's daughter."

"Ohhh dear." Jean muttered.

"Years ago he ended up killing Esmerele," Hermione's voice caught at recalling the harrowing scene, "and did so upon the grounds of Minerva's home; and she died in her arms."

Jean's hand drew up to her face, shock mixing with horror.

"Initially Minerva tried to locate him, but it happened the summer before my final year at Hogwarts and the year Voldemort was reigning terror upon the wizard and muggle world. Afterwards, I think she was too busy with the clean-up and rebuilding of the wizarding world in conjunction with Hogwarts. Time passed as did her desire to apprehend him; however, he reappeared just before the start of term and dueled her in Diagon Alley. At the time, it seemed personal. But it was precipitating event as he did not kill her, and ultimately gave her enough information to begin and assist in thwarting his goals of obtaining immortality. Harkiss has been amassing wizards and witches over the past several months believing the secret lies within Hogwarts."

"Does it?" Jean questioned.

"I don't know." Hermione quietly responded, "But I do know that Minerva will go to any length to keep him from whatever lies within the bowels of the castle."

"And you have been assisting Minerva?"

Hermione stared at her mother's concerned face and sighed. "Yes."  
"If something happens to you…" her arms fell to her sides, "what will happen to Rose and Hugo?"

"Ron will be granted custody." Hermione heavily sat down, no longer having the energy to stand.  
"Hermione…" Jean pulled out a chair and sitting just over a meter apart from her daughter, "that isn't good enough."

"Mom, I can't not help." Conviction lacing her voice. "I promised at the beginning of term and since then; she's taken time to train me, trying to give me whatever advantage she can to help me-"

"Come home alive." Jean whispered, tears pressing against the backs of her eyes.

"Yes."

"Hence her gift of the second wand." Hermione nodded and Jean pushed on, "And what of her?" Jean's question causing a knife to slice through her heart, shoulders sinking and Jean immediately read her daughter's forlorn features. "You don't think she'll make it?"

"I…" Hermione pushed back in her seat, brushing her right hand through her hair. "I hope so."

"But?"

"She's been through so much this year, she's exhausted and she doesn't stop. She just keeps going forward, unwilling to relent."

A gentle smile broke across Jean's face, "Sounds like someone else I know."

Images of Minerva lying out by the great Hogwarts' gate with charred fingers and hands flashed across her mind; immediately followed by the more troubling issue from several weeks ago. "It's different, mom. She almost de-stabilized her magical core saving Harry; and yet she continues to push."

"If a person was responsible for killing you," the tenor of Jean's voice shifted, "and that person was going after others, including your children; I wouldn't stop at anything either, honey. Neither would you."

"She's a brilliant tactician and able to put aside her personal feelings…"

"Nothing is harder for a parent than having to bury their child. She's a mother who lost her daughter by this man, and while she may be a brilliant tactician; she's still human Hermione. Feelings impede with the analytical mind; especially something so close to her heart. She may appear indifferent, but that also may be a subterfuge; as she probably feels responsible for not going after him for the last several years. Undoubtedly, she'll go to any lengths to protect the rest of her family even at her own peril."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione quietly admitted, "that she'll rush headlong into a situation; and with her reserves being so low in conjunction with her fatigue…I don't think she'll live through it."  
"You said that she has lived through three wars, has lost most of her family, including her husband, two children, a grandchild; honey," Jean couldn't imagine the heartache the woman had lived through. "There is the very distinct possibility that she may not want to." Hermione went to rebuke her statement and Jean continued on unabated. "She may be tired of burying her family and friends; she may be looking at it that she'd rather be the one to die versus what remains of her family."

_My family comes first, never forget that Hermione._ Minerva's words echoing across her mind. "Perhaps against Harkiss, but not…in general."

"You are a tactician, at what point would you risk yourself?"  
"Rose and Hugo," Jean nodded and Hermione thought through what she'd willingly trade her life for. "You."

"Hermione."

"I would."

"You'd better not, young lady."

Hermione stopped arguing, knowing that she'd spend the rest of the evening upon it. "Harry, his children, Ginny, Ron…a few other friends."

"Minerva?"

Hermione didn't dare rebuke the question, despite _wanting _to; for fear what it would ultimately reveal. "I believe I would."

Jean measure her words carefully, "Do you think that Minerva would risk any less for those she cared about, including you, even if it meant her own life?"

"She wouldn't risk her life for mine," at her mother's dubious expression she elaborated. "While I'm a friend, I'm not part of her family…" The last of her sentence went unfinished as she thought back to the night before last at the Manor; involving 'Minerva's family' which included her.

"From your look, I'd say otherwise." Jean leaned forward placing her hand upon Hermione's leg as she softly continued on. "It's obvious that she cares for you and your children a great deal. I…whole heartedly believe she'd never place you, the children or any of her family at risk if she could step in front of the storm and save everyone she still cares about."

"Ron and his family believe that my friendship with her will endanger Rose and Hugo."

"The children are in danger whether you are friends with Minerva or not; love. Because you'd stand up for what is right, and by doing so; those you care about would be in danger. Your friendship with her is probably the best thing that has happened to you in a long time;" Jean patted her leg, giving her a smile before standing up. "You've regained the spark you had when you were younger and seem happier, and more at ease with who you are."

Hermione stood too, "Rather becoming a Professor at Hogwarts this year was the best thing or at the very least the most fortuitous thing that has happened to me in years; as it enabled me to see…what I had given up."

"You haven't given anything up."

"When I married Ron, I did." She quietly admitted, "I gave up being the woman I had dreamed of being, becoming someone I hardly recognized staring back at me."

"Oh, love; don't say that."

"It's the truth, mom. I used to love to learn. I thought I would make a difference in the lives of others, I was passionate..." She didn't hear the door to the kitchen swing open as she continued on, "And then I married Ron, everything became about him; his wants, needs, desires and all the things that I loved to do became second to his wants…and then my children's wants, and I woke up and realized that I didn't do anything anymore that I wanted to do. My life had become everyone else's, and now that I have my life back…" She could feel the tears in her eyes, "I don't want to give it up."

"Then you aren't going to try and reconcile with Ron like you thought about doing?" Jean asked, careful not to look past her daughter and to her husband who was standing behind Hermione.

"As beneficial as it would be for Rose and Hugo; I just…can't." Her shoulders sank, "I can't go back to being someone I'm not."

"That's good to hear." Robert rumbled startling Hermione, "Never thought he was good enough anyways." He wrapped his arm around his daughter, "Your intelligence outstripped his while you were going in reverse."

"Honey, they don't use cars."

He shrugged, "She understands my reference." He kissed her head, "Right?"

"Yea, dad I do." She wiped the tears from her cheeks as he pulled away. "He is intelligent, though dad."

"Never said he wasn't, Hermione." Her father stopped and turned back to her, "But he stopped trying to learn and to push you; to challenge you and you need someone who will do that; someone who you won't be afraid to push back, someone who wants to learn. He isn't that person. He's out of school, in a field that requires very little academia; and not keen on pursuing additional fields of interest."

"Robert…"

"What?" He turned to his wife, "We've had this discussion, and frankly I'm glad to be able to finally tell Hermione that she can do better than her ex-husband."

"It's Christmas." She hissed and he shrugged opening the ice box and withdrew a beer.

He lifted his beer bottle up, Hermione waved her hand banishing the cap and he smiled; "It is." He said leaning and giving his wife a kiss then placed one on his daughter's cheek. "And the fact still remains that my now ex-son-in-law is not here, and I for one am thankful." He paused by the door, "As are the children, as he rarely spends any time with them."

"Robert!" She huffed, but he was already through the door and heading back to the children. "Ignore him Hermione."

"Is that how you both feel?" She questioned glanced to her mother, "That Ron…wasn't good enough for me? Or the children?"

"Your father has just had one too many glasses of wine." Jean went to turn back to the dishes, but her daughter grabbed her arm.

"Mom?"

A soft sigh eschewed from Jean's lips, "He's a nice man, Hermione." Brown eyes finally landed upon the questioning features of her daughter, "And he loves you. But, it didn't surprise your father or me when you two started having problems. Neither one of us thought your marriage would make it as long as it did, there were too few commonalities, but I figure it had to do with Hugo's birth and trying to keep the family together."

"And what did dad mean regarding Ron not spending time with the children?"

"You don't need me or him to answer that; as you know, honey. Do you think he actually keeps the children for the whole weekend on the opposite ones?"

"After all the heartache he has given me regarding the children…"

Jean frowned, "What do you mean?"

"I fell asleep while visiting with Minerva; the children stayed over in her rooms that night and it was as if I had left them with a stranger and he can't even watch them for two bloody days." She schooled back the tenure in her voice, "Ohhh…some times, he can be such a prat!" She could feel her blood pressure increase, and shook her head dispelling the anger. "I'll talk with Minerva and ask her if the children can come every weekend and see how long it takes Ron to even notice."

"Hermione…."

"No," She held up her hand, "I refuse to waste any more of my Christmas on the past." She wiped the last remnants of her tears away, "You and dad were right," She pulled her wand from her jeans, and with two waves a flick; the dishes were sparkling and stacked on the edge of the counter. Another series of movements and the dishes were gone and ensconced back into the cabinets. "I can do better." She strode to the ice box, "What's for dessert?"

"Robert took the time and made chocolate mousse pudding." Jean set her towel down, "And Hermione," She waited until her daughter glanced to her. "No matter who you are with, we'll both always be supportive of you; because we just want _you_ to be happy."

Hermione sunk into her mother's embrace, "I thought I was happy with Ron." She murmured into her shoulder, "Until there was some space between us and I realized that…I wasn't."

"You'll find someone sweetheart." She whispered as she ran her hand up her daughter's back. "When you least expect it."

_I already did, _Hermione silently answered back as she gripped her mother tighter wishing it was really that easy.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie set the pot of tea next to Minerva, who barely glanced up as she read from an aged tomb. "I must ask for a bit of clarification regarding your earlier request."

Minerva's gaze remained fixed upon the words, as she fought for her own resolve. Her body and mind far too fatigued to deal with the ramifications of her growing feelings towards Hermione. "Yes."

"If you are beginning to love her, despite the bond between you and Albus; why do you fight to remain faithful to him when he has passed the veil and she has not?"

"Because," she set the book down, green eyes peering over the rim of her glasses before she slowly pulled them away from her face to expose the honest truth to her faithful friend. "As you know, I still feel him, Bonnie. We _are_ still bound. And he is my husband. I made a commitment to him, to us; and I intend to honor it."

"And the love you feel for her?"

"It'll remain as it must," Minerva quietly finished in Gaelic. "_Unrequited._"

_"While I understand," _Bonnie continued speaking in their native tongue, _"your reasoning, I will only honor your request for the three days every five weeks that occurs due to your cycle. The remainder of the time, it is a conscious choice; one I will not infringe upon."_

_ "Thank you." _Sincerity ringing from Minerva's voice.

_"Do not thank me Minerva," _Bonnie said with a troubled countenance,_ "what you ask will be nothing short of arduous and heartbreaking to bear witness to over the next several months; when I want nothing other than what is best for you. Even if that is writhing beneath Hermione as Albus is screaming at the Ridge; and what you have asked is not in your best interests. And you know this."_

_ "Aye I do, but the fact remains Bonnie and I have made my decision; because I won't be able to live with myself if I don't remain true to my vow."_

Bonnie bit her lip, knowing that arguing this further was a moot point. Minerva had made up her mind, and she had a greater likelihood of seeing Master Meric and Mistress Katherine stride through the door than for her to change her mind. _"Very well."_

_ "The only other thing I ask is that_;" Minerva reached for her glasses, sliding them on. _"Hermione and my feelings are considered out of bounds to everyone, including Elgin."_

_"I am aware." _Bonnie stated, "And will you need anything else?"

"No, but thank you." Minerva picked up her book, pausing and looking over at Bonnie's crestfallen features. "And Bonnie,"

"Minerva?" Her eyes snapped up to see what else she required.

"Thank you for making this holiday a memorable one. I am, eternally grateful for all that you did."

"Your presents were more than ample thanks, Minerva; but I do very much appreciate the sentiment and the warm remarks. I have to admit to being happy that we had Christmas at the Manor this year."

"As was I." Minerva held her gaze, a smile upon both their faces before her eyes dropped to the now open text and Bonnie quietly departed the room.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

As George gave Molly a hug, Arthur grasped his cloak and shrugged it along with his gloves on and stepped outside. He could hear his son ask where he had gone, and he waited the necessary time; rocking back and forth on his heels, several minutes passed and the door opened.

"I was just grabbing some air, George." He said with a light smile, "You are leaving?"

"Yeah, I have to be at the shop early in the morning." George strode toward his dad, "Merry Christmas." He reached out embracing him, "And thanks for the present."

"Thank you, son." He whispered hugging him back before pulling apart and gripping his shoulder for a moment. "I'll walk you down."

"Ahh, dad; you don't have too. Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, Percy, the children, Ron, everyone's still here."

"I know," He shrugged, "And it's significantly quieter out here."

George chuckled in understanding as he nodded. "Well then I won't stop you."

They fell in step with each other, striding towards the small hill. "What time are you opening?"

"Seven. I'm having a special on Ministry coin tomorrow."

"So have I made the fabled Wheezes' coin head?"

"Of course," George nodded, "Their first day of release is tomorrow."

"Does my picture time with fool?"

"Not yet," George turned to his father, "however, if at some juncture it does, you'd better not come home that night."

A faint smile crossed Arthur's face, "I shall hope my decisions don't lead to becoming a fool."

"I have faith in you dad." George acknowledged, "We all do."

"And I…" Arthur reached out and to his son, gently slowing his son's progress, "Have faith in you, George."

"Dad."

"Listen, son." He took a step closer, "I know something has changed. I see it in your face, the way that life has once again returned to your countenance but with it there is considerable reservation and a self preservation that sparks at every whisper regarding your new lover."

Dumbstruck, George could do nothing but stare.

He could see the fear sparking in his son's eyes. "I don't care who it is, son." Arthur whispered, "As long as you're happy. Never, ever doubt that."

They stared at each other for a long minute before George's gaze fell away. "I'm happy dad. And for now, that's enough."

"If you ever want to talk about it, I'll always be available."

"I, dad; I don't know if I can. But I cannot express how much your offer means to me."

Arthur felt his chest constrict at his son's obvious torment between his happiness and his family. "Who is it that you are so afraid that we won't accept? A past death eater?"

"No." George shook his head, "I…it's just better this way for now."

"George, I'll understand."

Blue eyes narrowed, the moon light glinting off the moisture along the edge; "I know, but I'm not…sure that everyone else will be so – acceptable."

Sensing he had pushed his son a bit too far, Arthur opted for a different route. "Just please tell me it isn't Harkiss or one of his followers. That won't go well with the family, especially Minerva."

George outright laughed as he shook his head, "No. We're safe in that regard."

"Good. As I don't want to have to use the Auror division to protect my son from his family and more importantly the Headmistress."

"You wouldn't have enough Aurors, dad."

"No, probably not in this instance."

George chuckled and nodded leaning forward, "Thanks dad." Giving him a deep hug, "I will tell you some day." He whispered, "Just not today."

"I know, son. And I'll be here waiting for the day you feel that you can." If at all possible George's embrace became tighter.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No." Milksy replied. "I do nots believe she'se returned to Hogwarts today."

"Did she gets her presents we left for her?" Rose genuinely inquired as Hermione thought back to her conversation with Minerva a few days prior.

"She has not sent for any presents, they remain within her'se rooms at Hogwarts."

_That is rather odd;_ Hermione thought but tried to allay her children's doubts. "She spent the day at her home and I'm sure she'll be here later this evening."

"But what's about her presents?" Rose blinked up at her mom.

"I am sure she'll open them when she returns." Hermione stated reassuringly, hoping nothing happened today of significance that would cause her to have been waylaid.

"What if we takes them to her?" Rose asked pleased with her question.

"Honey, it's getting late and I'm sure she has her reasons as to why she hasn't asked for them or opened them."

"But it's Christmas." Rose rebuked, "She's needs them tonight or they aren't Christmas presents."

_The profound logic of a seven year old,_ Hermione thought trying not to smile at her daughter whose adamant expression could be classified as none other than – cute.

"Please mom."

Hugo bobbed his head next to his sister, not really understanding the entire scope of the conversation; but knowing that he liked what his sister was saying – a visit to Aunt Merva. "Pleeze, mum."

"Milksy, do you know if she is at the Manor or..." She paused and rephrased her next word. "Elsewhere this evening?"

"I'se will ask Elgin."

"No," Hermione quickly countered, "please let him rest. I'm sure this is one of the few times he can as she isn't here."

Slowly Milksy nodded in admittance, "Master Elgin and Madame Tily both sleep less than five hours per night; shifting who'se assists the Mistress during the early hours of the day."

Hermione knew better than to follow up with another question, but her comment confirmed that Minerva was still not getting an ample amount of sleep. "Can you retrieve the gifts the children and I sent to her rooms with you last night?"

"Of course," She snapped her fingers, three small packages instantly appearing before Hermione. "Is you'se be needing anything else?"

Hermione had hoped Milksy would say no, that they were inaccessible; but as she stared at the seemingly innocent presents, it appeared that was not the case. "I'll get my coat." Rose darted to her room, Hugo dragging his blue rabbit behind him as he followed chorusing, "Me too, me too."

"No, Milksy; it seems that'll be all." Hermione wandlessly summoned her own cloak while pulling out her wand and shrinking the three presents before her.

"Till laters, Miss Hermione's."

"Good night, Milksy and Happy Christmas."

Milksy paused, "Thank you for my present; it was most kind, and Merry Christmas to you."

Hermione's response died upon her lips as the young elf vanished. Slipping on her cloak, she strode into the den while placing the small parcels into her pocket.

"You should know that Minerva may not be wishing visitors this evening." Godric's rumbling voice and stirring message stoking a hint of anxiousness regarding her unannounced visit.

"Is she well?" Hermione drew the cloak closed, fingers quickly and adeptly remembering the previous cloak with the magical seam line as she unconsciously sealed it close.

"I believe so." Godric carefully answered.

"Believe so?" Hermione strode purposefully forward, "She had planned to spend a quiet day in observance of her traditional Christmas as she used to." After knowing him for the last six months, Hermione could see the concern that laced the lines of his face. "Godric, what happened and what _aren't_ you telling me?"

"We'se ready!" Rose and Hugo yelled and she could hear them lumbering towards the den.

"Godric?" She took a step closer.

"Time, Hermione." he answered and his gaze shifted to her children that rounded the corner, "Safe travels and until later this evening." His portrait fading as the latch clicked open.

"What type of answer was that?" Hermione muttered as her children clambered to a halt beside her, coats on although Hugo's buttons were offset and their hats were jammed on their heads but left their ears exposed and both had their scarves trailing along the floor.

"Ready?"

Hermione smiled at her daughter and son, "Almost." She replied eliciting a moan and muttered mom and mum from them. "I just need to re-adjust your hats," She began, "and scarves before leaving." Her eyes saw their fingers, "And where are your mittens?"

"Ohh," Rose tore back to the other room, Hermione grabbed Hugo's arm stopping him.

"Grab Hugo's too." She called after her daughter as she helped fix Hugo's coat.

"Alright." Rose called out.

"Do you think Aunt Merva has gots those goods cookies too?" Hugo's small finger was flipping his rabbit's ear. "Like the cakes ones we's had?" His eyes sparkled, "Or maybe choclat?"

"Chocolate."

He nodded, "I like those."

Hermione finished the last button, making sure to tuck his scarf about his neck. "Me too." Hermione whispered, "Our secret?"

He nodded as Rose came running back, her mittens on. "Here," she handed the mittens to her brother. "We can go now?"

Hermione reached forward and adjusted her daughter's hat and tied her scarf; glanced to her son who had managed to put on his mittens and nodded. "Yes."

"Yeah!" They both jumped up bolting to the door.

"But," Hermione caught both their shoulders, "Remember when we are at Hogwarts; what do we have to do?"

"Be quiet." Rose answered.

"Alright," Hermione opened the door and paused as she looked at the still portrait, "Please let Filius know that we have left for a short while."

He nodded and watched as his charge exited the rooms with her children in tow.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione reached out, eyes immediately peering to the Manor to see if there were any signs of life being exhibited from the famed home; and there were. With forced bravado she pushed open the gate, Hugo and Rose already skipping down the walk as Rose sang jingle bells and Hugo chimed in, severely off key, on the chorus. Hermione had yet to determine exactly what she was going to say regarding their intrusion upon the evening; and she knew several things she was _not_ going to say – especially regarding how little she had seen her these past few days or regarding how she had missed being able to talk with her. While both were true, they were going to be filed under the definitely not category.

"Can I knock?" Rose asked as Hermione strode up the final steps.

"One minute." Hermione answered, an idea springing to mind as she extracted Minerva's presents from her robes along with her wand. Ten seconds later she was placing a small package in Hugo's hands and before placing the one in Rose's hands she nodded and Rose reached forward, taking the brass lion's head knocker and knocking. After three knocks, she stepped back and Hermione placed one of the two remaining packages in her waiting hands, before stepping back with the final one which she returned to her cloak.

Hermione watched as her children _tried_ being patient as they shifted between their left and right foot, waiting.

"Can I knock again?" Rose questioned as she stared at the door.

"I's knock." Hugo stepped forward, arm reaching out and at almost dropping the package stopped as he tried to grab onto it again; and then they heard a reverberating locking noise ripple outward as the tumblers gave way; and Hermione wondered if that was really the perceived noise of the tumblers of the lock or the wards of door being lifted and it masquerading as tumblers in case it was a muggle awaiting entry.

The door opened and her son and daughter barreled forward; shocking the normally stoic woman as they gleefully yelled out in greeting.

"Merry Christmas, Aunt Minerva."

"Merry Chismas, Aunt Merva."

Tiny arms bobbled packages as they latched onto her, and she in turn knelt down; all of Hermione's doubt in coming this evening evaporating in that moment as Minerva's eloquent features morphed from shock to utter jubilance.

"And a Happy Christmas to each of you." Minerva whispered as she wrapped her arms around Rose and Hugo, face slowly turning up and briefly meeting their mother's welcoming brown eyes before she kissed the tops of their heads. "What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you your presents," Rose pushed the present she was holding into Minerva's chest. "So you have it on Christmas."  
"Ahhh," Minerva started to respond as Hugo followed his sister's example.

"Here's." He blinked, smile plastered upon his face. "For you."

Minerva easily took the offered gifts, "Why don't we move back and let your mother in as well?" She went to stand, but Rose leaned in and hugged her again.

"I missed you, Aunt Minerva." She whispered before pulling back and slipping off her mittens and unbuttoning her coat.

Hermione stepped into the Manor, as Minerva stood; the door gently closing behind her. "Good evening and Merry Christmas Minerva." Hermione said suddenly feeling light hearted as their eyes met.

"And to you, Hermione." Minerva's voice dropping as fought to ignore the guilt for her sudden jubilance and the cause behind it; and merely enjoy the moment with Hermione and her children.

Hugo tugged on his Aunt's arm, "You helps?"

Minerva banished the presents to the library and knelt down; eyes taking in the clasping mechanisms that held his jacket on. "While I help with the buttons, why don't you take off your hat?"

Hugo nodded and pulling his hat off, hair standing up on end as he asked. "Where's the presents?"

"I put them in the library." Minerva replied as she unfastened the final two buttons.

"You have a library?" Rose questioned handing her mother her coat, mittens, scarf and hat.

Minerva helped Hugo ease out of the arms of his jacket, "Up the stairs and to the left."

Rose went to run ahead, but Hermione's voice stopped her. "Wait on us, Rose."

"But…mom," She turned to her mother, "She's said she's gots a library, so there has to be as many books as you've got."

Hermione placed Rose's coat and other items on the coat rack, taking a minute to shed her own while carefully taking the present and transferring it to her robes. "Probably a few more."

"More?" A note of disbelief ringing in her voice.

Minerva handed Hugo his blue morphing animal, and gently ran her hand over his static ridden hair; causing the red locks to fall down. "Does your mother have a lot of books?" She stood and walked the half dozen paces to the coat rack, placing it upon the hanger; noting that Hermione had worn the cloak she had given to her.

"Oh yes, she has lots and lots of books. A whole room of them." Rose said peering up at her Aunt.

"A room of them," Minerva casually eyed Hermione before turning back to Rose, wondering how large of a collection Hermione had and why she had never mentioned it to her. "And is there a small space in that room for you too?"

"I gots my…"

"I have -" Minerva interjected.

"I have my own two shelves in my room." Pride lacing her words.

"Well," Minerva summoned her walking stick that had been leaning unobtrusively along the wall, "you will have to show me your collection of books Rose, and it is probably far greater than mine."

"Not if you have a room of them." Rose said lacing her hand into Minerva's as they began walking to the steps.

"But I don't have many books for children." Minerva stated, "Only a few shelves too, and I'm sure your collection far surpasses mine."

"Really?"

"Quite true. Now, do not misunderstand Rose; I do have a great many books, but most are about types of magic, history, journals, biographies, autobiographies and other topics."

Hermione couldn't help her smile from widening at the endearing conversation occurring between Rose and Minerva as Hugo scrambled along Minerva's right side and frowned at the walking stick ensconced within long fingers. Hermione took a long stride and swept him up into her arms as they began climbing the steps; walking beside Minerva and enabling her son to peer over at her.

"But not many kids books for me or Hugo?"

"A few." Minerva carefully stated, "And when visiting with your mother, you are welcome to borrow them."

"But if you only have a few, shouldn't I leave them for other kids to read?"

Minerva swallowed the ball forming in her throat, as neither Kat nor Cal had the same passion for reading as Rose did. She had always hoped it would change, but they were both more inclined towards the outdoors and preferred to spend every waking moment outside and only a scant few reading in comparison. "I believe there are enough to go around."

"Okay then." Rose said, "Want to know what I got from Santa, and mom, and meema and peepaw and nana and Uncle George and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry and everyone else?"

"I would love to." Minerva stated trying not to lean any more on her walking stick as they came to the second floor landing.

"Meema and peepaw gots me some new clothes and three books; Uncle George gots me puzzle box, I have to move the pieces around to get open and I can keep something special in there; and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry gots me my very own quill set like mom to work on my letters; and…"

Minerva paused to palm her walking stick and open the door, but Hermione stepped forward and did so.

"…Nana and Grandpa gots me…" the rest of Rose's words trailed away as she stepped into the library with her Aunt, eyes growing wider and wider as she openly gawked at the books lining the walls of the room.

"Wows, Aunt Merva," Hugo blinked as he turned his head and everywhere he looked there were more books. "You's gots lots o books."

"Yeah," Rose nodded voice hardly a whisper, "you do."

Minerva adjusted her walking stick, and with a wave of her hand a small blank wall suddenly morphed; more books coming to life. "That area is where most of the children's books are kept." She bent over, "Why don't you go see if there is any there you want to borrow?"

Rose was still blinking at the mammoth collection of books that was seemingly everywhere, "Where'd you gets all these books?"

"My mother and father collected books, as did my grandparents, so many of these books I inherited; and the others, I have been alive for a long time my little lass, so I have been able to collect lots of books over the years."

"But you isn't that old Aunt Minerva," Rose finally pulled her gaze from the towers of shelves, "to gets all these books and have read them all."

"I have read them all Rose. And I am older than either of your grandparents, my dear and have grandchildren of my own."

Rose's face pinched in thought staring at her Aunt then glancing to her mom and then slowly back. "Maybe…" Her eyes blinked and a heartfelt statement rang through the Manor. "A little older, but you can't be as old as Meema and Peepaw. You just can't be." She looked to her mom again, "Can she mom?"

"Honey, witches don't age as fast as people without magic. Minerva," She set her son down to enable her to meet her daughter's matching brown gaze. "Is older than she looks, sweetheart."

Rose lifted her gaze to Minerva, brown eyes filled with love. "But you are the best Aunt ever. And Aunts isn't s'pose to be older than grandedparents."  
Minerva could instantly feel a shift in the room stemming from Rose's innocent comment, knowing that the shift originated from Hermione. "Typically they aren't, but I think this time we can make an exception; don't you?"

Rose bobbed her head up and down, "Please, yes." She reached forward gripping Minerva.

Minerva returned her hug briefly, "Now, why don't you go see if you can't find a book that you may want to borrow."

Rose needed no further encouragement, reaching out and grabbing her brother's arm and dragging him towards the bookcase that had magically appeared; leaving her mother and Aunt alone.

Minerva gestured to the chairs and chesterfield in the middle of the room; "Let it go, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, "I'm trying," she noticed an afghan, glass of wine and book resting upon the chesterfield and coffee table undoubted from Minerva before they arrived. "It's just difficult, as I know that Ron was the one who made the comment; and they are derived from worry about the children. The worst part is he is the one who is placing the children at risk; not you." Her eyes returned back to Minerva, "You have gone out of your way to assist and protect them and me."

Minerva eased around the coffee table, fingers catching the edge of the blanket and pulling it out from where she had sat. "He looks at me as someone who is far more involved in your life since taking the position at Hogwarts, and our friendship may be a cause as to why you are not reconciling."

Hermione could feel her heart rate increase to a crescendo at the comment, thanking Merlin that she didn't have to interject her thoughts at that moment, as she'd have been forced to lie or answer a very truthful yes.

"As I may be encouraging you to leave him." Minerva sat down, flinging the edge of the blanket over her legs as she did. "Would you like something to drink?"

Her eyes flickered to the glass of wine within reach of Minerva, "Are you having another or just finishing your glass?"

Minerva edged back and reached, drawing up an open bottle; "I had been rather intent on finishing this before heading back to Hogwarts this evening. Would you like a glass? It's a Bordeaux from," Her brow arched as she tried reading the writing, and with an audible sigh reached for her glasses. "Don't get old, my dear." She grumbled as she placed them onto her face, "1829." She turned back to Hermione whose eyes were smiling in return. "I'm glad my waning eyesight is mildly humorous." She reached up pulling her frames from her face.  
Hermione felt her grin broaden, "It is not, nor was that the impetuous for the smile. Rather your relaxed mannerism, I find it refreshing." She leaned forward, "These past few weeks, it has been nice to…" Hermione found herself carefully treading a line of truth that could be walked and maintain their friendship. "See you and be in your company as a friend."

Minerva set her glasses down, fighting the sudden ill feeling that her growing need to remain within this woman's presence was fostering an unhealthy friendship between them. "I do hope that you will not think ill of me when we are again in mixed company and I have once again returned to the reserved Headmistress I am presumed to be."

Hermione shook her head, "I'd expect nothing less." She nodded to the bottle, "So, where did you happen upon a bottle of 1829 Bordeaux? A forgotten corridor of the family wine cellar?"

"Did you care for a glass?" Minerva inquired, absently noting that Rose and Hugo were still enthralled with the few books they had already begun to look at. Undoubtedly it was the moving pictures that had grasped their undivided attention.

Hermione was torn, as she wished to taste the wine; but Minerva had stated that she had intended to finish it herself. "I'll pass as it seems to be earmarked already."

A light chuckle slipped past rosy lips, "A good wine is always better shared with a friend."

"Then how can I refuse?"

Minerva went to summon a glass, but thought better of it. She was still far too tired from her bout with Albus and the draw upon their bond from earlier. She began drawing the afghan from her legs, when Hermione stood.

"I'll get the glass." She turned to where Minerva was looking, "Just tell me where."

"Straight ahead, in the cabinet; top shelf to the right." Minerva adjusted her cover back, eyes catching the title of her book and inwardly sighed as it would look suspicious for her to make it suddenly disappear. The light rattle from the glass door as Hermione opened it, caused her attention to shift back to Hermione.

Hermione plucked an etched glass from the cabinet, "So you evaded the origin of the bottle?"  
"I did." Minerva agreed, "But only for a moment longer." Long fingers took the offered glass as she easily poured the deep red wine before handing it back and returning the bottle to its previous resting place.

"To friends and a Merry Christmas." Hermione raised her glass outward.

Minerva reached for her own glass and lifted it upwards and out, her voice softening as she reiterated the toast. "To friends and a Merry Christmas." She took a sip and waited until Hermione had before stating where she had received this from. "As for the origins of the bottle, it was part of Percival and Audrey's Christmas present."

Only pure coincidence led Hermione not to spew the wine everywhere, thankfully having just swallowed. "What?" She looked at Minerva aghast.

"As I said, far better shared." Minerva set her glass down.

"Minerva," Her eyes went to the glass and back, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you'd be as you are now." Minerva shifted slightly in her seat to ease the ache in her hip. "Not wanting to impose and if I thought it was, you seem to forget that I would not offer."

"Please tell me you have another bottle and that this isn't your only one."

"If you must know, there were four bottles." She could see Hermione's shoulders lighten at her response, "And as there are now two of us drinking, I hope there are only two by morning."

"I can't drink your Christmas present."

"Does it taste foul?"

"No," Hermione grudgingly continued on, "actually it tastes rather good."

"Then what ever is the problem?"

"Minerva, it's _your_ Christmas present."

"Hence I can choose who to share it with and who not to." Emerald eyes twinkled, "And I have chosen to share it with you, a friend of mine who has decided to spend some of her time with me on Christmas along with her children. I can think of no better person to share it with at the moment, can you?"

Hermione held her gaze and finally gave a shake of her head, "Thank you." She gently replied. "It is most kind."

"As are you." Minerva quietly remarked.

At feeling her heart flutter, Hermione switched back to the previous conversation. "I'm sorry if Ron and anyone else from the Weasley's or who knows what aspect of the wizarding world believes that you'd dissuade me from returning to Ron."

"It is I who am sorry for you," She reached for her glass, "as it is not I who will hear about our friendship or the time you are at Hogwarts. Rather you and you alone." Her grin was partially hidden by the frame of the glass, "There are a few perks to being the esteemed Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Yes, well; it doesn't make it any easier if they won't talk to you."

"It shan't bother my dearest friends, nor my relations with Arthur or Molly." At Hermione's dubious look regarding the Weasley matriarch, Minerva briefly elaborated. "Molly merely wants what is best for her family having lost her two brothers to Voldemort in the first war and her son in the second one. Regarding Ronald, she sees him as she remembers him; a caring young man who should be lauded many chances as he will invariably get it right. That is given enough time; however, she also realizes that he is not making wise decisions for his children nor in regards to his now ex-wife. That is not easy for a mother to accept; but it doesn't mean she isn't aware of her son's foibles, she just wishes he'd make amends before he cannot. As do most of your friends, I'd presume."

She nodded, "Most do, as it has been difficult for our friends and the family to accept that we are not together. But," she found herself leaning incrementally forward, wanting to hear Minerva's response as she casually picked up her own wine glass. "I am curious as to your thoughts regarding Ron and myself; while you have always been an avid listener and offered sound advice, it has been neutral and not once have you given voice to your own thoughts."

Minerva heavily pondered her words before uttering a single syllable, as her feelings towards the woman opposite had grown considerably over the past several months; and while she had always remained steadfast in her advice, she had only rarely given thought to her own feelings regarding Hermione and Ronald and the possibility of their reconciliation. If she was truthful with herself, she was less inclined towards their reconciliation as the months passed by; and her own feelings for the woman opposite grew. "That is because I have found that everyone has an opinion, but in the end the only one that matters is your own; as it is your decision. Hence, I have not offered advice and listened."

"As I won't be reconciling with him, why the reticence?"

"Anything I have to say is irrelevant, as it is your life. I merely wish for you to be happy within it." Minerva's cadence had become thick as she forced the rest of the words from her throat. "Besides, it is obvious you care for him, and while you may not reconcile now; it may happen at some later date."  
"He…" Hermione took another small sip, "last night," She found herself shaking her head, "wanted to reconcile and I just…" her eyes dropped unable to share the heartache at what she was closing the door upon; for fear of what else she'd portray to Minerva. "Well, I couldn't. And," she took a steadying breathe, "I won't be."

For several long minutes, Minerva silently watched as Hermione tried to compose herself; the only noise in the room was that of Rose reading to Hugo. "I…am sorry." She began, "As it is readily apparent how much you still love him," Hermione imperceptibly lifted her gaze, and found herself saying a long held truth. "When you first began showing an inclination towards him, I thought it would pass. I never thought that you and Ronald would marry," Brown eyes fully fixed upon her, "rather you and Harry."

"Harry and I?" Hermione's voice riddled with disbelief. "He's like my brother."

"Now," Minerva remarked, "however, when you were at Hogwarts can you honestly tell me there wasn't a time you didn't think of Harry as more than a friend?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "For perhaps a short stint during my third year, but after; no. How on earth could you have known that?"

"He liked you after if I'm not mistaken; but you were already seeking Ronald's companionship."

"Probably, and during the year we were on the run; there was an incident that caused us to almost cross the line between friends, but we've never spoken of it to anyone."  
"Perhaps, but his gaze often lingered after you."

"You really think so?" Hermione took a heady swallow.

"He cared for you a great deal and still does; but," She held up her fingers, allaying her need to interject, "it is obvious it is reciprocal to your feelings, that of a brother to a sister. He is rather smitten with Ginerva."

"Why Harry?"

"Hermione, it matters little."

"You didn't think that Ron would keep up with me intellectually," Hermione whispered, feeling like a fool for wanting to believe that she and Ron could make it, together. Especially given the times that the two of them had rows while at Hogwarts, "Is that it? Is that what you don't want to comment on?" Hermione could feel tears burning against the back of her eyes, "You needn't fear, my parents already told me."

"Hermione," Minerva instantly leaned forward, the afghan falling from legs onto the floor as she reached forward taking one of Hermione's forearms within her hand. "That is not it."

"Then what?" A hint of defeat suddenly lacing her words.

"Ron sees things as they are, you and Harry both see them how they can be." Minerva met searching brown eyes, "It is varied as night loving day; for equity to exist they have to live in twilight. You're a dreamer and he's not; equity lies on the fringe of today which is where you probably fell in love with him." Minerva quietly went on, "Adventures spurred on through your association to Harry and the rise of Voldemort; his want to return to balance and your desire to do what was right. However, since his fall; the polarity between you has been slowly growing as have the inequities." Minerva let her hand slide down, grasping Hermione's fingers within her own. "You are an intelligent woman whose intellect can and will at some point outstrip not only mine but that of Albus', Filius, Helena and countless others; but what makes you so very special my dear is your innate ability to see what possibilities lie in the world and extrapolate outwards, add in your capacity to love." She squeezed her fingers before letting go, "You have already helped to alter the course of the wizarding world once in your life; and I have every confidence you will do so again."

Hermione absently wiped a tear from her cheek, disbelieving that hers and Ron's differences could be described so eloquently and tactfully. "Am I really so very different from everyone?"

"You are the most capable witch I have seen in all my time at Hogwarts." Minerva sighed in understanding, "That, however, does not mean that you will not find someone who will challenge you; who will strive to help change the world; who will love your children as you; who you may have more children with; who you can grow old with."

"All but the more children sounds nice." Hermione found a smile curling the corner of her lips, "I don't think I can do the toddler aspect again."

A light chuckle slipped from Minerva's lips, "It seems to be working out well." Her eyes flashed to Hugo, "Why the reservation?"

"I…" A pain flashed in brown eyes and she cleared her throat, "I miscarried after Rose and almost did so again with Hugo. The healer said he doubted I'd be able to carry another child for a full term. It was too much stress upon my body."

"I was told the same thing," Minerva quietly admitted, causing Hermione's eyes to instantly jerk to hers; "And I still had four wonderful children."  
"You miscarried before Percival?"

"Long before." Minerva shook her head to clear the past memory away, "I believe a large part of the reason was the stress in my life as I'm sure would be the cause of yours."

Hermione recalled the prophets along with Minerva's marriage album; "It wasn't with Albus, was it?"

"No." Minerva succinctly replied, taking a sip of her wine as she pondered elaborating on her answer. "Rather with Aegis." Minerva admitted, with a sigh she continued on. "I miscarried after my parents deaths."

"Did he ever know?"

"No."  
A horrifying though crossed Hermione's mind. "Did anyone know?"

"There was no one left to tell," Minerva reached for the bottle. "I had just lost my parents, Callum six months prior, Derrick was at Hogwarts, had already lost several of my close relations and as for my friends - Digs had just been…" She could hear the tenor of her voice breaking, as an imperceptible quiver took resident in her hand causing her to focus the sole of her energy on pouring her refill; and at glancing to Hermione she nodded to the glass, and she extended her glass outward not commenting on her sudden shake. "Digs," she tried again, still even after all these years she could see his glossy eyes staring at her, "had been killed the week prior. Helena was paralyzed, Lizza was in a coma, Melinda and Philip were on their honeymoon, William had left to join the war, as had Rory." A rueful smile slipped across her face, "And I…fled to the front lines."

"Did you ever talk to anyone about it?"

Minerva eyed the younger woman and found herself being uncannily frank. "Truthfully, I had never hoped to come back; my world and everyone and everything I had ever known had collapsed around me in the span of six months."

"But you did."  
"I did," Minerva agreed, "despite accepting every fool heartedly mission available." She could see the worry brewing behind chocolate colored eyes, "It was ages ago, Hermione. And I have long since lost any sleep over it. Whereas, what about you? Have you ever thought of having a second opinion to see if the healer was inaccurate?"

"Don't you ever wonder how different life would have been if you hadn't miscarried?"

"Initially," Minerva acknowledged, "but not later. I have lived a very full life, and overall, I think it worked out just fine."

Hermione swallowed her ruminations regarding whether her and Ron's life would have been any different if she hadn't miscarried between Rose and Hugo. If they'd still be together? Happy? Miserable?

"Life isn't about what ifs rather what is." Minerva quietly stated.

"And what happens afterwards." Hermione sighed, answering her own internal musings. She and Ron wouldn't have been any happier, not having the child or having it; life is filled with moments, it's how they're lived that matters. "I don't really see the point of going to a healer for a second opinion at this juncture. I'm not looking to become involved, let alone have any more children."

"Which is why now is a good time to go." Minerva leaned back into the cushions, "To know before the add complication of being in a relationship."

Hermione's response was waylaid as Hugo called out. "Is its time to opens presents?" Hugo bounded back across the room, a blue puppy running beside him.

"I…believe that's a wonderful idea." Hermione answered as Rose came running behind her brother.

"You've got great books, Aunt Minerva." She said placing it in her lap, "The pictures move as you read." She turned to her mom, "Can I get a few like she has?"

Minerva reached up, gently guiding Rose's gaze to her. "You can borrow mine, lass. You needn't buy your own."

Brown eyes sparkled in joy, "Really?"

Minerva started to nod but two thin arms shot out and gripped her neck in a hug. "But, only…" Minerva extricated herself from the bear hug, "if you give hugs like that around my waist and not my neck little one."

Rose leaned up on her toes and kissed her cheek as she whispered, "Sorry."

Minerva patted the cushion beside her, Hugo bolted into the spot and Rose frowned. Hermione watched as Minerva set her glass down and adjusted Hugo into her lap, making space for Rose. "There you go."

"Did you'se opens your presents already?" Rose asked looking around.

"No," Minerva inwardly pulled her magic and summoned the two parcels, feeling a wave of fatigue ripple through her. "They are here." She said as the two packages landed next to her glass. "Now, which one should I open first?"

Hugo pointed at the smaller package with his foot, "Dat one."

Holding Hugo, Minerva reached around and grasped the package. "Do you wish to help?"

Instantly Hugo began ripping the paper as Minerva held the box until a lid was revealed. Carefully, she opened the lid and smiled at the cheery red colored material. Delicately she lifted the cloth up, to see it was a soft cashmere scarf.

"How lovely." Sincerity ringing from her voice, "Did you both help pick it out?"

"They went shopping with my mother and picked out the gifts they gave everyone." Hermione clarified.

Hugo bobbed his head, "Yup. You'se got cold."  
Rose elaborated further, "We wanted to get you something so you'd stay warm and not get too cold again. And it's bright and cheery color, like you is."

The sentiment meaning so much more in knowing that they chose their own gifts to give her. "Thank you."

"Now," Rose reached forward and took the next package and placed it in Minerva and Hugo's lap. "This one."

Minerva set the scarf next to her glass, "Since Hugo helped open the last package, how about you help with this one?"

Rose eagerly began tearing the blue paper off along with the silver ribbon to reveal a square 10 by 10 centimeter white box.

Minerva opened it and Hermione found herself leaning forward at the perplexed look upon her face. Finally Minerva withdrew the object, and Hermione stared at it for a moment speechless. It was a shrunken dark green carpeted cat house and scratch post.

"After it was wrapped, Dad shrunks it and made it lighter so I could carry it."

Hugo pointed at the tube, "You can goes in it."

Hermione rapidly placed her hand over her mouth, feeling horrible that her children had gotten something so…well, uncouth for her. She could never imagine giving a cat toy to woman who embodied the word dignity; but her children didn't see her as the world did. They saw her as they should, their Aunt. She just hoped Minerva would understand.

"We didn't see lots of toys for when you is a cat and thought you might like this." Rose said turning to Minerva.

"Its gots strong stuff for your claws." Hugo proudly pointed to the corners.

Minerva blinked again, in both awe and wonderment at the two children next to her. "It has been a great many years since I have received a present for my smaller self." Her lilt becoming prevalent.

"Why?" Rose asked, "Don't you like to get stuff for you to have when you is being a cat?"

"Aye," Minerva cleared her throat, "I do. It is just not something I ever think about." With a subtle toss, the cat house was flying through the air and before Rose and Hugo could utter a cry, a wand was within long fingers and two strokes and swish later it morphed and grew; gently coming to rest a few meters from where they were sitting.

"Wow that was so cool." Rose said awestruck at Minerva's subtle display of magic.

"Yeah." Hugo squirmed and quickly got down to go inspect the now full size house. "It's even gots bigger than the store."

"Thank you for the marvelous presents," Minerva sincerely stated, easing the horrific feeling that had momentarily coursed through Hermione's veins.

"We thoughts you'd like it." Rose leaned in giving her a hug, "Meema didn't understand why we had to gets it, she figured it was for your pet. We stopped trying to expane." She finished and glanced to the cat house where Hugo was playing in. "And how'd you make it so big?"

"I thought you'd like to check it out for me and tell me if it'll work."

Rose's face split into a grin, "Alright." She quickly joined her brother.

"You aren't offended?" Hermione asked in a half whisper.

Emerald eyes with unshed tears turned to Hermione, "Why would I be?" She stated in a partial question. "As there are some aspects that are most enjoyable while being a cat."

Hermione glanced to the piece of cat house, noting the thick rope along the four corners. "Like clawing furniture?"

"That, amongst other things." Minerva ambiguously replied as she lovingly gazed over at the children. "Rose and Hugo are very special children."

"They are rather taken with you," Hermione admitted, "I have never seen them with anyone else as they are with you."

Slowly Minerva's gaze shifted back to Hermione and she answered with a confession of her own. "They have become near and dear to my heart." She picked up her glass, "They remind me of my two youngest when they were children."

Hermione reached into her pocket to withdraw her present to Minerva, "If I were to use your interactions with Rose and Hugo as an indicator, you must have been an outstanding mother."

"It was a life age ago." Minerva murmured more to herself than aloud as her eyes again became fastened upon the children. Memories of a time long gone by overlapping with the boy and girl before her; and Minerva could feel the damn of emotion at having lost both her youngest threaten to erupt as her vision became blurry. Minerva conjured a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, clearing her throat. "My apologies," she feigned a smile, "I was swept up in memories."

"Esmerele and Callum?" Hermione cautiously asked.

Minerva didn't trust her voice and nodded, opting to take another sip of wine to give herself another heartbeat before answering. With practiced ease she banished the embroidered clothe before speaking, "There are times I miss them a great deal."

"I can't imagine." An underlying quake existing beneath the tenor of her voice.

Minerva glanced to Hugo and Rose, "I sincerely hope you never have to." Her voice holding a harrowing ring to it. "Though, I do believe we have waded through enough melancholy for the day given that it is supposed to be celebratory." She reached forward picking up her newly acquired scarf, "I don't recall ever having received red before."

"I'm sure you can charm it to another color." Hermione stated.

"Oh, you misunderstand," Green eyes flashed to Hermione, "I have been very defined by the green I typically wear and I believe this shall be a pleasant change of pace as I've just recently purchased a new black cloak."

"How coincidental," Hermione remarked, knowing that Minerva probably bought hers while purchasing Hermione's present.

"Truly." Minerva quipped.

"Speaking of coincidental." She extended out her hand, a package suddenly taking form. "I found this and thought you might like it."

Minerva set the scarf into her lap and again placed the glass upon the table as she took the gold papered with emerald ribbon rectangular package. Setting it in her lap, she noted that its weight was rather compact for a gift this size. "It isn't another piece of _furniture_, is it?"

A low chortle left Hermione's lips, "No. I would have been too mortified to purchase you something like that."

An elegant brow arched, "Then we shall have to work on that." Manicured nails were already skimming across the tape, peeling away the packaging and revealing a dark emerald leather embossed case. Intrigued, Minerva spun the case around looking for clues as to what was encased, as it was rare for her to receive a gift over the last two decades that wasn't in the shape of a book or a bottle. The exception being the children's gifts and on occasion Rory or Helena; but otherwise, presents had become rather routine.

Not finding additional information, Minerva unclasped the latches; the only clue so far was that it was muggle, the latches having given that paltry detail away. Opening it up, she was greeted to a small booklet and a diagram; at once she partially held out her arm and marginally narrowed her eyes a smile instantly breaking across her face at reading what it was – 3D chess. "Wherever did you find this?"

"Muggle London." Hermione answered as she watched as Minerva carefully removed the base and two additional layers of the board. "I know how you love to play chess, and…" She shrugged, "I thought this might create a new challenge."

Minerva felt…well…like a child again at Christmas. "It's perfect." Her enthusiasm tangible as she responded, at once donning her glasses to skim the instructions. She paused after a minute, glancing over the frames a hint of chagrin passing across her face, "Thank you."

A full smile split Hermione's face, "You are more than welcome, Minerva."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva stood, "I'll get Hugo."

"Are you sure?" Hermione questioned as she hefted Rose upwards and into her arms, "He is heavier than he looks."

"That's what magic is for, dear." Minerva cast a feather light charm, "As I'm afraid my hip wouldn't support the weight."

"We can return to Hogwarts," Hermione began again but Minerva waved her off.

"Bonnie already has your rooms prepared," Minerva slipped her arm around Hugo's neck and legs; and with seemingly practiced ease she picked him up. He barely stirred, merely adjusting into a new warmth.

"But you said you had to return to Hogwarts."

"I am, but you are welcome to stay." She summoned her walking stick as she began walking towards the door; Hermione following.

"Minerva, why would I stay when you are returning to Hogwarts?" She stopped, "I can put them to bed just as easily there."

"True," Minerva turned to Hermione, "but why would you return to Hogwarts when you can spend a day with your children without having to worry about Hogwarts, your family, the Weasley family, and anyone else but Rose and Hugo?"

"What of your children?"

Minerva outright chuckled, "They will be by Hogwarts in the morning for breakfast and if by chance I am not there, they will floo over to the Ridge. You will be undisturbed here, and to ensure that I'll ask Bonnie to close the incoming floo." Minerva could read her doubt, "You are not imposing. So please stop seeing it as that," Minerva continued on, "I know what it is like to have to be everything to everyone; when all you wish to be is you and have a quiet day with your children. Enjoy tomorrow, it is the least I can do for the marvelous surprise and joy you and your children brought this evening."

"Very well," Hermione finally consented, "but if at any time we need to leave tomorrow…"

"You won't, so stop fretting. Make yourself at home; enjoy the library and the solitude." She waved open the door, "And don't worry about the Manor, it is child proof; so the children can have the run of it." She paused, "Except for my room and the third floor library entrance, as the railing is not childproof."

"I'll make sure to lock it in the morning." Hermione stated.

Minerva motioned to the bedrooms, "Yours," She tipped her head, "Rose, and," A door along to the left opened, "Hugo."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite." She stepped into the room that used to be her eldest brother's; the dark navy trimmings having been updated, but it still felt like Callum's room. Shaking her head, she marched to the bed; the quilt, blankets and sheets already turned down. With a muted whisper, his clothes morphed into pajamas. Quietly she set her walking stick against the night stand and eased him onto the bed, fingers gently taking off his shoes and placing them beside her cane. From the depths of her robes, she extracted a miniature blue stuffed rabbit that grew to its normal size; which she placed to his left. "Good night, my wee lad." She leaned over and placed a soft kiss upon his forehead and he blinked his eyes open.

"Night, màthair." He murmured before settling into the covers, content; leaving Minerva standing there in momentary disbelief.

_Had she really heard him correctly? Had he said màthair? Or merely a jumbled conjugation of her name?_ She settled on the latter, not believing that he had even heard of Gaelic nor that he knew what the word was nor meant. Shaking her head to dispel the peculiar event, Minerva strode from the room and met Hermione in the hall as she had exited Rose's room.

"Let Bonnie know if you require anything further."

"Of course." Hermione said, "Thank you again."

Minerva smiled, "Thank you for coming over this evening." She took a step forward, "And Merry Christmas." She squelched the desire to sigh as Hermione leaned into her embrace.

"Merry Christmas, Minerva." Hermione breathed out, committing the feeling to memory before both women pulled away. "I hope you have a quiet day tomorrow."

_Rather a quiet night,_ she inwardly corrected; but it hadn't mattered, Hermione saw the minor shift in her countenance.

"What…has something happened?"

"No," Minerva smiled, "I have just been away from Hogwarts for the better part of three days and after what seems like a short time away; it does make it hard to return."

"Then stay this evening." Hermione countered, "Enjoy the last of Christmas."

The warm fire, the engaging company, the comforting feelings were all a wondrous enticement, one she could not permit herself to submit too; no matter the temptation. She was already falling for the magnificent woman, no need to expedite the inevitable. Emerald eyes twinkled back, "Good night, Hermione." She whispered, "I shall undoubtedly see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Minerva." She quietly responded, "And Merry Christmas."

With a tip of her head and a tender smile, Minerva swept from the corridor; her mind returning to Hugo's softly muttered words as she glided down the stairs. Bonnie suddenly appearing next to her as they both headed towards the den.

"The upper floor library is off limits to the little ones, is there anything else I shall ensure before they rise in the morning?"

"Huh," Minerva glanced to Bonnie and gave a subtle shake of her head, "No. That should be fine."

"Is you alright?" Bonnie inquired, suddenly worried. She had been watching Minerva all evening, and while she had been elated by the joyful exchange between the children, Hermione and Minerva; it seemed as though something had changed.

"Fine." Minerva automatically responded, then corrected her answer. "Actually quite well, as I had a most pleasant visit."

"I did notice." Bonnie stated matter of factly.

Minerva's lips pulled into a tight line.

"You seemed to relax this evening, which was most needed." Bonnie continued on.

"Thank you, Bonnie." Minerva remarked, not knowing how Bonnie felt regarding her burgeoning feelings towards Hermione.

"Get some rest this evening," Compassionate yellow eyes met hers, and her shoulders marginally sank as Bonnie knew what lay ahead when she returned to Hogwarts; and she was _not _looking forward to her inevitable confrontation with Albus, again.

"Merry Christmas, Bonnie." She called out as her fingers sunk into the floo powder.

"And to you, Minerva."

She snapped her wrist the floo powder jumping into the grate and her final thought before leaving the Manor riveted to the young lad sleeping on the second floor; _After all, where would he have learned the word mother in Gaelic? _

* * *

Oxox

_A/N: Well if you have gotten this far, I hope that is an indication that you enjoyed it! As for an update, I will endeavor to get one up next week; (as I shan't be posting any more chapters of this length in the foreseeable future) and will try to continue on that timeline until we finish out 2009 – and then yes, for those of you who read the note in my other story; I'll be taking a month off from this story. _


	71. Chapter 68 December 26th, 2009

**Chapter 68 ~ December 26****th****, 2009 (Saturday ~ Boxing Day)**

"Yes," Minerva snapped, "_They _are."

Elgin bristled at her tone, his ears down as he waited; desperately trying to be inconspicuous as Albus rebuked her words.

"Are you _trying_ to make it harder on not only yourself, but me as well?"

"And if I didn't have feelings for her, would you care if she stayed at the Manor?"

"That is different," He began but never had an opportunity to finish as Minerva interjected.

"It isn't any different; _you_ just perceive it to be because of my feelings." Her ire growing in conjunction with his. "As you well know, I would do the same for any of my friends."

"Minerva you can't expect me to…"

"Expect you –" her voice rose to an unseemly level, causing Elgin to physically withdraw two additional steps backward. "Expect - Albus." He watched as her magic crackled about her, "We are bound." Her words were clipped as she continued on, bordering on caustic. "What _is_ there to expect? I pledged _my_ life, _my_ very soul to you; do not speak to me as though my pledge was any less than yours." She stretched out her hand, "I'm guessing you have the morning report, Elgin." She kept her gaze fixated upon her husband's portrait as the paper gently touched her hand.

"You'se know that Professor's Granger and her children did not return last night."

"I am…_acutely_ aware." Minerva ground out, "Anything else of note?"

"Nothing that isn't explained in the report."

"I will see you shortly, thank you." Minerva said and with a wave of relief, Elgin departed instantly.

"I _am_ as acutely aware as are you regarding _our_ bond and the costs that seem to be unending." Albus stated, desperately trying to reign in his own agitation and growing ire, "Do you think it any easier to _feel_ you day in and out, for not the past day or week; but decade and not _do_ anything about it? I am relegated to a world of canvas and oil, a veritable window to the world I would give anything to be a part of again to stand by your side, to hold and love you. I am here," he spread his arms apart, "and yet not. Just as you are beside me and yet not; and _both_ of us are damned at the moment, love. For that I am sorry beyond measure."

She could feel his guilt and she tiredly ran a hand through her hair, "I know Albus, as am I." Her own guilt growing for a different reason in time with his, "And I cannot help the feelings I have."

"Some days," Weary blue eyes met hers, "I wish we had never bonded; as it is going to kill all that we had."  
"You don't mean that Albus." She leaned against the edge of the bed, the last of her anger gone.

He reached up pulling his spectacles away from his face, "Minerva, if we hadn't been bound; _this_ wouldn't be an issue." A rueful chuckle slipped past his lips, "Any of it, truthfully. As Johannes wouldn't know of the Heart because there never would have been discussion at home nor regarding our bond as we wouldn't have assisted Hogwarts as we had; to your body being ripped between planes of existence and slowly dying; to the situation with Hermione." He leaned back into a muted maroon cushion, "If we hadn't been bound, I'd have died and you'd have grieved for my passing thirteen years ago and in all likelihood have very well moved on."

"And I should be dead, and this conversation never have been given voice." She rebuked. "I chose to bind myself to you, and you to me. We both knew what the outcome would mean, and ultimately that I would have a shorter and you a longer life span. What neither of us foresaw nor could have foreseen was that I would live past you. It is unprecedented."

"It still doesn't negate the simple fact that we shouldn't have bound our lives and souls."

Minerva shook her head at her husband, "Hindsight is always 20/20 love and does little for us now." She sighed, "And despite everything, can you honestly expect me to believe you when you say we shouldn't have been bound?" A quirk of a smile curled her lip, "Save for the first several months as we 'adjusted' to each other, but to never felt the other as we have?" Her face sobered as she spoke a quiet truth, "It's an intimacy that I can no longer imagine a world without."

They sat in each other's presence, enjoying the sanctity of the moment before Albus' soft voice fluttered across the air. "Do you believe we can get through this?"

Emerald eyes focused upon his clear blue ones, "I have to hope that after everything we have lived through together, after all that we have seen and done, that we can get through the next couple months. No matter what, though it is going to be exceedingly difficult." The cadence of her voice dropped as her lilt became prevalent, "And I worry Albus, what if I can't stop myself one time? What will happen to us afterwards?" Shame causing her skin to flush, "You'd be forced to feel everything, and how could you forgive me? Could you even?" A chord of defeat lacing her cadence, "How could I forgive myself?"

"I feel your growing love for her, Minerva; and no matter how difficult that is for me to feel and accept, I do understand the need to have someone there." His voice cracking, "But I do not know if I can live through you making love to her. The mere notion is agony, to feel your need – your rapture…"

Tears slid down her face, "I would not be able to bear it if our roles were reversed; and if it happens I don't know how we'll get past it or if we can."

"Ohh Tabby, if I could dissolve the bond; you must know I would."

"I know," she brokenly answered, "but I still wouldn't let you."

"If it meant saving your life and sparing you the pain, I would even without your consent."

"It takes two to dissolve the bond Albus, as you well know."

"And what of Hermione?"

"I'll be dead in less than three months – "

"But once here, we can dissolve the bond; and you'd be free to find her perhaps in your next life."

"And despite what is happening, I want us to be together as we planned."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione strolled across the corridor towards the Manor's library, her robe tied about her waist; loving the rich history that seemed to exude off every inch of Minerva's home. The lights igniting as she neared, bathing the area with a soft glow as she idly ran her hand along the carved wooden walls. With care, she opened the door and marveled at the ostentatious room before her as dozens of candles sprung to life.

"Lady Hermione." Bonnie instantly appeared, "Good morning."

"Please tell me I didn't wake you." Hermione glanced to the faint gleaming stars still able to be seen through the clear ceiling above; it was still quite early.

"You sleep much later than the Mistress." Bonnie stated, "Would you like some tea or coffee?"

"Coffee would be wonderful when you have a minute."

Bonnie tilted her head in acknowledgement, "And for breakfast, do you or the children have a preference?"

"Please, nothing ornate."

Bonnie smiled at Hermione's thoughtfulness, "It is of no bother as we will be in the kitchens cooking for ourselves; so please do not think of it as a burden."

"French Toast and perhaps some bacon or sausage."

"Very well." Bonnie nodded, "And as you are here…" She took a deep breath, not sure if she should continue with her lessons to the witch considering Minerva's growing feelings; but opting to do what her heart told her was the right thing to do. "We'll conduct your lesson after coffee if you are still amenable."

Hermione found herself nodding, while she had not spent much time working on her Gaelic of late; it didn't mean that she didn't wish to continue with it. "That would be great Bonnie."

"And Lady Hermione," Bonnie held her gaze, "I have no idea what prompted you to come to the Manor and visit with Minerva last eve; but it was very thoughtful." _And most appreciated,_ she finished silently.

Hermione unconsciously adjusted her robe, "It was my children's idea, they are most taken with her."

Bonnie confirmed Minerva's quiet confession from last evening. "She is with them as well." _And you. Though you will probably never know or understand the extent of what she is and will go through to keep her vow despite what she feels for you. _Bonnie cleared her throat banishing the heart wrenching thought; "I'll bring your coffee momentarily."

Hermione didn't have a chance to respond as Bonnie vanished. Hermione shook her head at herself. "Children's idea." She muttered, "What am I doing here?" Her eyes glanced about the library, and even though she didn't know why she was here, she was not about to pass up the opportunity to leisurely gaze through Minerva's library. Who knew what treasures were hidden within; especially as the library also contained texts from Dumbledore.

She drifted towards the far left, eyes fixed upon the beautiful tapestry delineating her family history; perhaps she'd take some time to research that. Her leg inadvertently bumped the coffee table, her gaze darting to it and she was about to return it back to the tapestry but the book upon the table, the one Minerva had been reading the night before, caught her attention or rather the title she could now see did.

_Estate Preparations – A Cross Between Magical & Muggle._

Hermione's stomach rolled at the implications.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Percival turned back to his mother immediately following Tessa's departure, she didn't look as tired as she had on Christmas Eve; but there were still deep circles under her eyes covered by her stout Glamour charms. Ones that had taken him a lifetime to see through. "Are you sure you are doing alright?" He inquired, ignoring the gallery of portraits; he had after all known the esteemed Heads of Hogwarts his whole life, and they him.

"As well as can be expected." Minerva genuinely replied. "As you can undoubtedly see, I am still quite fatigued."

A wane smile passed across his face, "That isn't all, as there are added layers of stress beyond Johannes. You've hidden it well, mother; but it _is_ there. Obviously it is troubling you and I can't help but wonder what it is? Is there something else regarding Hogwarts? Aunt Helena? The family?"

Minerva's face remained impassive, but she could feel her pulse quicken in response. _Of course she was stressed,_ she inwardly mused,_ but there is little to say regarding your father and our bond, nor the complications regarding it. _"I am concerned regarding yourself, Audrey, Tessa, Malcolm, the children, Hogwarts, Helena, Harold and Rory. I don't know if I will have an opportunity to fight against Harkiss before it matters little; and I worry what will become of you if I cannot."

"It doesn't have to be you." Percival reached out taking his mother's hand, "And it shouldn't be."

"Oh how I wish that were true Perc." Minerva sighed, running her hand along his upper arm before stepping away, "But as exceptional as you are at Potions will not help you against Johannes." Her eyes briefly landed upon her husband and the back to her son, "Promise me if I die and he is still alive you will take Audrey, your son and leave Britain."

He looked at his mother aghast, "I will not run."

"I'm not asking you to," Minerva whispered, "I'm asking you to live."

"And why not ask this of Tessa? Why me? Do you think I am any less willing to sacrifice myself to stop him? He killed Esmerele – there is nothing I won't do to return the favor."

"You know what will happen if I ask your sister, she'll purposely dig her heels in more." Sorrow filled emerald eyes, "And I know you are willing to die to stop him; I am asking that you leave this fight to someone else. Leave it to Rory, Harold anyone but you, Perc."

"Tess and I will be fine."

"If he gets the Heart, he'll be immortal; he'll come after the both of you and your families."

"Then I'll send Audrey away with our child," blue eyes bore into his mother's, "and I'll have Tessa do the same with Kat and Cal; and we…" He ground out a horrifying thought, "Well, we can bait the trap and hopefully stop him."

"You aren't bait, Perc." Her words slipping into Gaelic, "_You are my son._"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione wrapped the blanket about her legs, eyes flickering over to her son and daughter; who had fallen fast asleep after finishing their lunch, exhausted. They had spent the morning sledding down the gentle slopping hill behind the Manor, made snow angels and even a family of snowmen; with help from Hermione and a hint of magic.

She had thought about exploring the McGonagall Family Tree, but she was tired too and found the allure of reading a book by the warm fire even more tempting then her curiosity; knowing full well that within a half hour she'd probably be joining her children and be dead asleep. The past few months and the arduous schedule she had been working and assisting Minerva had left her exhausted. And while a day would not alleviate the fatigue, it would certainly help as a stopgap.

Absently, she opened the book; her focus remaining upon Hugo for a moment and his warm remarks regarding Minerva upon waking.

_"Where's Aunt Merva?" He sleepily pressed his eyes with his knuckles as he drug his blue rabbit along the wood floor._

_ "She's at Hogwarts."_

_ "Why?" He clambered onto the chesterfield and snuggled up under his mother's arm._

_ "She had to do some work."_

_ "Can we's go?"_

_ Hermione dropped her book and glanced down at her son, "We're going back to Hogwarts tonight."_

_ He shook his ginger hair, "No no no…" He glanced up into his mother's face. "To give her a hug now. Not later."_

_ "You want to go to Hogwarts and give her a hug now?"_

_ "No her to come here." He squeezed his mom, "She's suppose to be here," his voice getting quiet, "with us."_

_ "I don't know if she is coming to her Manor today?"_

_ "But we is here." He murmured._

_ Hermione ran a hand across his head and through his hair, "She knows."_

_ His finger flipped across the blue stuffed animal's ear. "I…like it whens she is here with us."_

_Me too,_ Hermione thought as she finally answered her son's comment from earlier; eyes barely focusing on the words in front of her as her thoughts again returned to Minerva. She had become so integral into her life, her children's life that…her heart seized as her eyes glanced to the book at the opposite end of the coffee table.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

A soft sigh left her lips as she leaned back against her chair, eyes still gazing at the final totals. She was running out of time, and she was going to have to allocate the remaining of her estate – soon.

Perhaps she'd leave it in trust until the situation with Harkiss was resolved and at that juncture have Griphook distribute the entire estate to the remaining heirs based on an algorithm.

"That won't do." She muttered pulling a fresh sheaf from her drawer, "Though it would be nice."

With deft fingers, she picked up her quill and dipped it in the ink pot; quickly making a list of names.

Bonnie

Elgin

Percival

Audrey

Their son

Tessa

Malcolm

Callum

Katherine

Helena

Harold

Rory

Filius

Pomona

Jordan

Tom

Ria

Warren

Chloe

She let her quill sit for a moment, ink bleeding out along the page as she stared into the distance for a moment; thoughts on a name that her quill had wished to put down for the last half dozen names prior.

_But should she add her? _

And almost as instantly as she thought that, she realized that she was indeed being foolish. There was no reason for her not to add her name to the list. She was a friend. A very dear friend who she cared a great deal for.

Banishing the large blot, Minerva dipped her quill into ink and began writing again feeling a wave of freedom and a sense of loss all at the same time.

Hermione

The tip of her quill stopped a brief moment more before the familiar scratch against the parchment precursed the addition of several more names.

Rose

Hugo

Griphook

Poppy

Hagrid

Kane

Timothy

…

…

Quarter way down on the second page, several of the Order members and colleagues names made their way onto the list, even Lucius'. Another two sheaves of parchment were filled with names before she stopped; knowing that there would undoubtedly be one or two additions, but that would be for a handful of specific items as she went through her estate.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Oh for sanity's sake please tell me you're joking." Helena snapped at Gawain.

"What you thought I'd forget about the incident from the day before last? Due to what precisely, holiday cheer and frivolity?" He quipped in return.

"For the love of Merlin, I am safer here than the blasted Minister behind these walls."

"And Jayne was impersonated." Gawain retorted, "What part of that is safe? I've already spoken with the Minister this morning, and he believed as I regarding assigning you an Auror at all times while away from your home."

"Absolutely not."

"This isn't negotiable, Helena."

"And I _will_ not have some overzealous upstart shadowing me through St. Mungos, believing they'll be able to make a name for themselves as they startle and unsettle my patients."

"You are the Administrator of St. Mungos, meaning that you have hundreds of staff working with patients while you administrate over the functionality of the hospital; hence you should not be seeing any patients as it is."

"The next time you are brought here with a dire prognosis, I'll be sure to follow your expert advice."

"That's what I'm trying to accomplish you bolshie woman! You aren't safe!"

"And parading a solitary Auror by my side is supposed to make me safe?"

"I had hoped you'd partake in your own defense, because Merlin Helena what would you have said if I were to order a pair or a whole division?"

"I'd tell you what I already am – no."

"Either you accept my proposal of one willingly or I," he withdrew a letter from the depths of his robes, "send an owl to your Board chair stating the direness of your safety. While they let you do as you may because of your deft skill and proficiency; you know as well as I they will instantly capitulate regarding your welfare."

Blue eyes narrowed as they flickered to the letter and then back to his face, "That's low even for you."

"It's not as though you are leaving me a lot of options, Helena. You are being nothing short of an obstinate fool, risking not only your life but Harold's needlessly."

"Fine," She bristled, "but you have to find a way to keep this off Minerva's desk."

"What?" Gawain felt his elation plummet in the next heartbeat.

"Off her desk and her radar."

"You aren't telling her about the incident the day before last?"

Icy blue eyes met his suddenly wide brown ones. "She has enough stress without my welfare being an additional burden."

Gawain finally understood, if she accepted Minerva would know something had happened and that her dearest friend had moved from the metaphorically to imminently at risk category. "She'll look at the Auror involvement as another layer of protection and that shall ease not add to her burden."

"Not really," Helena honestly remarked, "hence you will find a way to conduct this forsaken detail as low key or I will not go through with it Gawain." There was a note of finality in her voice, "As there is far more in play than your perception of my welfare."

_There always is regarding your and McGonagall's affairs_, he quietly mused before stretching out his hand. "Then we have an accord."

"Grudgingly." Helena took his hand. "Now leave before I change my mind."

"I'll have someone over here within thirty minutes," Gawain stepped away, "be safe and thank you for agreeing."

Helena sat down a frown etched along the sides of her mouth, "Just go."

Gawain knew better than comment and followed her advice, quickly departing.

Helena waited a barely perceptible moment before turning to Dilys, "And as this does not relate to Hogwarts business, I want your word from one Administrator to another this doesn't grace Minerva's ears."

"If she asks, I am bound to tell her the truth." Dilys hedged.

"But she has no reason to know or suspect at this juncture unless she has been told of what happened on Christmas Eve; which her lack of flooing to my whereabouts regarding the events leads me to think otherwise."

"I will not divulge your growing peril unless she asks."

Helena gave a nod, "Very well," she whispered trying to return to her correspondence, however, her ruminations of late had become fixed on Gawain's analogy from the day before yesterday.

_He's playing high stakes, and the pair of you are as high as they come; her respective Rooks – the last one she'd ever put into play and the first one Harkiss would like to see gone. Don't lose sight of that._

With a heavy sigh she peeled her glasses from her face, "Merlin how I hate chess."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Dinner is ready and will be served in the casual dining room." Bonnie announced and vanished back to the kitchens. "The children are washing and will sit down momentarily."

"Is you'se eating dinner with them?" Teng questioned as he finished preparing the fourth salad.

"The Mistress is returning, please pull lemon pepper dressing from the stores."

Zyi's face became discolored, "We'se don't have anys."

"You have three perhaps four minutes to prepare some." Bonnie snapped her fingers, leaving the Manor and arriving in Minerva's suite at Hogwarts. At once she turned her keen hearing to her surroundings and immediately recognized the familiar sound, Minerva was writing.

Elgin appeared beside her before she had an opportunity to take another step, and at seeing who it was relief washed over his face.

"Has she eaten today?"

"She'se been working through lunch in her personal study."

Bonnie gave Elgin a curious look, he shrugged and both sighed. It was definitely unusual, but then again, so many things had been of late what was one more. "We've prepared dinner at the Manor," A gentleness spread across yellow eyes, "You are most welcome to come too."

Elgin appeared that he would initially refuse, but then a small crinkle of a smile marked his face. "Perhaps you'se could save me a plate."

"Consider it done." Bonnie whispered before leaning in and softly kissing his cheek before quickly striding into Minerva's private study. "Good evening, Minerva."

Minerva didn't bother looking up, "Has Elgin called in reinforcements?"

Bonnie stifled a chuckle, "Unfortunately no, should he have?"

Minerva glanced up from her writings, immediately noting that several candles had long since been lit and that only the last hint of dusk still colored the evening sky. _Where had the day gone?_ "Perhaps," she dipped her quill back into the pot, "however, that is not why you have come. Are Hermione and the children well?"

"They are preparing to sit down for dinner," Bonnie kept her face placid as she continued onward, "and I prepared you a plate to join them."

The quill flew at an angle in reaction to Bonnie's statement as her eyes immediately jerked upwards, and then fell to her parchment and inwardly cursed at the sharp line that had once been the beginnings of a T stared back at her. "I have need to finish this." Minerva waved a hand over the blemish, and began again.

"And eat as well, which you haven't done since breakfast." Bonnie edged closer, "My guess is the document you are penning will hold to later this evening, while your company will not."

Minerva fully lifted her gaze to meet Bonnie's, "And after our conversation do you think it wise for me to go this evening?"

"I think you have been focusing on enough of your future for the day," Golden eyes fluttered to the papers beside and surrounding Minerva before returning back to her emerald gaze, "The coming months will be nothing short of dreadful, and I worry that you are too tired to meet it. And while there is a brief respite, it is wise to take advantage of it, for however short it is. So, while not wise; it is prudent. Because beyond everything else, she has become your friend, Minerva. A friend you enjoy being around, who helps to ease your worries." The tenor in her voice became softer, "If it was Helena, would there even had been a pause?"

"You know the answer," Minerva placed the quill back into the pot, turning. "As well as I."

Bonnie's eyes twinkled, "You'd already been pouring a glass of wine."

"Very well." She stood, "I'll be there momentarily." She reached over grasping her walking stick.

"Of course, Mistress." Bonnie replied and in the next blink was gone.

Minerva cast a final glance to her work papers and notes regarding her last will and testament; a testament that would undoubtedly set the entire wizarding world into a frenzy of conjecture. Shaking her head she left the study and was already descending the stairs, "Rowena – would you be kind enough to inform Filius that I will be at the Manor for a short while this evening."

Rowena's body shimmered and she was already adjusting in her seat as Minerva strode to the floo. "Filius bids you a good evening."

"Godric, as you are aware Hermione has not returned of yet, and as I will not be available; please inform Filius if there are any problems in the Tower."

"At once."

Minerva reached forward, fingers sinking into the floo powder, "And…" She turned to Dilys, "I have not heard from Helena today, is she doing well?"

Dilys found herself nodding, "She's been dealing with a bit of excess baggage that I believe has taken the whole of her attention. Is there word you wish to send?"

Minerva's brows furloughed at Dilys description, "None that shan't wait. Excess baggage?"

"Ministry business." Dilys nonchalantly stated.

Minerva's eyes darted to her pile of correspondence from the Ministry sitting on the corner of her desk. "It is never ending." Shaking her head, "If I am needed, contact Elgin." She lifted her hand, eyes trailing to her husband.

"Have a good evening." Sincerity ringing from his quiet timbered voice.

"And to you." And in a flash of green she was gone and stepping from her floo at the Manor. She motioned with her hand as an afterthought; wandlessly banishing the forsaken soot. She did hate traveling by floo, and while it was necessary at this juncture in her life; it did not make it any more welcome. She always felt as though she needed a shower afterward; the soot a dreadful reminder of ash that fell day and night across the skies in Germany that while banished off the skin, it always seemed to remain in the pores.

Quelling her internal musings and personal discomfort that she could do little for; she welcomed the Christmas feel that still permeated the air and greeted her eyes. She could hear the distinct sound of children voices and a smile innately pulled at her face, they were just walking in the dining room.

With a stride reminiscent of days long past, Minerva quickly sped from the den and down the hall; "Do you mind if I join you?" She questioned while stepping in behind Hermione, Rose and Hugo.

"You's came!" Hugo beamed and lunged forward engulfing her in his tiny embrace as did Rose.

"We had a great day at your Manor, Aunt Minerva." Rose stated pulling back from her hug.

Minerva stood nodding to the table. "Why don't you regale me with the details while we eat?"

"What's reg…."

"Regale." Minerva repeated, "It means to tell me about."

"Okay," Rose said as she pulled on the chair, Hermione reaching over and assisting her while Minerva helped Hugo. "And when we are done, are you going to reg…ale us with what you did today?"

Hermione's eyes flickered to Minerva who was sliding Hugo's chair in while stifling a chuckle, "I shall see if I can, but my day was probably rather dreary in comparison."

"You are the Headmistress at Hogwarts," Rose pulled her napkin off the table and set it on her lap, following what Minerva was assisting Hugo with before sitting down at her own seat. "You don't have boring days."

"I am endeavoring too." Minerva quipped, "And your mother is helping."

Rose and Hugo's faces shot towards Hermione in awe, "Really? Wrelly?"

"Quite," Minerva replied, "as I would like to be able to spend more time working on affairs other than those pertaining to Hogwarts."

"Like playin wit us?" Hope flaring in Hugo's question.

It was imperceptible, practically invisible but Hermione could have sworn she had seen a flash of despair glint behind suddenly smoky glasses as Minerva lightly replied. "That would be preferable."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione nodded, "But you have to wash your hands."

Both children were off like a bolt as they yelled alright.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Hermione questioned.

"A dance hall is to be used for dancing." Minerva replied repeating Rose's earlier statement causing Hermione's smile to widen. "Bonnie or one of the others shall play some music for them."

"After your party, they have a new affinity for the Electric Slide."

Minerva chuckled, "Well there are far worse songs they could prefer."

"True," Hermione leaned back, "but I think George is a little over it after their stay the other evening."

Minerva gently lifted her glass, "After an hour a change of pace is probably for the best."

"Speaking of the children, I have a…personal request." Hermione swallowed, hoping Minerva would not believe she was taking advantage of her friendship. Minerva merely nodded for her to continue and she fought away the sudden unease. "At the conclusion of the holidays, I would like the children to come to Hogwarts every weekend." She found herself fidgeting with the napkin in her lap as she rambled on, "After speaking with my parents, Ron isn't taking them for the full weekend add the part in that when he is, he isn't watching them and I just don't want to burden either my parents or Molly and Arthur. They've already done so much since the start of term helping watch them and with everything else going on, including Arthur becoming Minister, I can't ask them to do more. And Ron not keeping them for even the whole of a day, they need some down time and I just…" Hermione's voice trailed away at the soft smile lighting Minerva's face. "I was prattling, wasn't I?"

"Of course they are welcome, however," Her face moderately sobered, "I will ask if you are willing to continue assisting me with your children at Hogwarts."

"Milksy can watch them for a few hours or my parents while we are away," Hermione leaned forward, "I made a commitment to help you stop Harkiss and we are going to do that," she took her glass, "Then afterward we are going to drink several bottles of your malt until neither of us can stand anymore." Sincerity lacing her brown eyes as she gazed across the table, "And then you are going on a holiday; even if Hogwarts is in session. I'm sure Filius would be most amenable as would your Board."

"As agreeable as that sounds, Hermione; I can't look past Harkiss at this point."

"You have to have something to hope for," her mother's words were echoing in her mind as she stared at Minerva, _"She may be tired of burying her family and friends; she may be looking at it that she'd rather be the one to die versus what remains of her family." _"Something to live for."

Minerva could see the doubt in Hermione's eyes, "I do my dear. Do you?" She calmly replied.

Hermione averted her gaze from Minerva's and to her wine glass lest she see her answer while staring into her eyes. "Yes. My children." She took a final sip from her glass. "And yours?"

_Peace. _"My family." Minerva sighed as she expanded her answer, "And I can't look past Harkiss until I know they are safe."

"They will be." Hermione reassured. _They have to be, after everything she had been through; there has to be a balance at some point._

"I do hope so." Minerva finished her glass of wine and set it back upon the table; "As well as for your own family."

"Mistress," Bonnie appeared next to Minerva, "Elgin asked that I relay this." She extended her hand along with a letter.

Minerva gazed at the wax of emblem, Hermione noting the sudden alteration in her posture as she rapidly broke the seal; "Who's it from?"

"Arthur." Minerva uncoiled the parchment, holding it out as she tipped her head to scan it.

The frown upon Minerva's features deepened, concern instantly tingling along her spin. "Minerva, what…?"

"Dammit," She flung the paper onto the table as she quickly stood upright, the glass clattering on the table as she did, "Excess baggage, Dilys." She shook her head at the gentle obfuscation the prior headmistress had done only hours before as her walking cane leapt into her fingers.

Hermione took a steadying breath, "Is everything alright?"

Minerva blinked as she re-focused on the room in front of her, seeing Hermione despite the burning rage coursing through her veins. "No," Minerva bit back her desire to lash out, "Helena is under a protective detail from an incident that occurred two days ago."

"What?" Hermione felt the color drain from her face at the thought of what could have happened to warrant a Ministry detail. "Did something happen?"

"Apparently," Minerva curtly stated, "If you will excuse me," she began striding from the room, pausing by the door in afterthought, "Good night, Hermione."

Hermione quickly stood, "Minerva…" She stepped into the hallway as Minerva drew to a stop by the den's entryway. "I'm sure she has a good reason why she didn't tell you."

"She doesn't want to worry me further," Minerva's lips drew into a thin line.

The words stumbled from her lips before she could stop them, "I can't blame her."

A flash of shock sparked over her ire, as she blinked and a gush of words spilled from Hermione's lips.

"I didn't mean, I just…" Hermione saw the shock and plunged ahead anyway. _In for a knut in for a galleon. _"After everything that has been going on and I'm sure Helena feels the same; she probably feels as though whatever the problem is, is not that big of a deal and would prefer it to remain that way. She's your friend, and she's undoubtedly worried about how you'll feel if she's been threatened because of you. She knows you have enough to worry over without worrying over her." Hermione's shoulders dropped at how true her commentary had been from her perspective as she finished. "Just try to remember that when you talk to her."

"I will." Minerva finally stated after a few moments, "And thank you," she whispered, "for your candor. I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Hermione murmured as Minerva vanished into the den and a few moments later she heard the roar of the fire and knew she had left the Manor as the faint tunes of the Electric Slide began again.

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Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: I'm exhausted and am having a devil of a time concentrating in conjunction with some very challenging dialogue passages – hence why there has been a slew of postings on other stories; but we are down to 5 more chapters before a short hiatus on Bonding and I am diligently trying to remain focused on it before putting it away for a few weeks. So, pardon me if it takes an extra week or two to get to the end of 2009; I'm really trying. (Even took a day off to finish this one.)  
_

_ As always, I hope you enjoyed!_


	72. Chapter 69 December 27th, 2009

**Chapter 69 ~ December 27****th****, 2009 (Sunday)**

"But," Rose paused in her drawing as a pensive look passed across her face, "why can't we stay here this week?"

Hugo's face lit up at the notion, "Yeah! Stay 'ere."

"There isn't no kids here, Milksy told me so."

Hermione swallowed the last of her breakfast, "There are a handful of children here over the Holidays, but nowhere near as many as during session. However," she leaned forward, "just because there aren't as many children here doesn't mean that you two can stay."

"Why's?" Hugo blinked up at his mom.

"I have some work I have to do and…"

"We'll stay with Aunt Minerva." Rose instantly interjected, "She'll let us."

Hugo frantically nodded his head, "Peeze."

The mere mention of Minerva's name stilled her heart, causing a course of emotion to stir and momentarily detract from her children's commentary before remembering the words that had been upon her lips and uttering them. "She has work to do and," she had to raise her voice over her children, "you're staying with your father for a few days."

Rose and Hugo both stood mouths agape, staring at their mother – their argument all but gone.

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Xoxo

* * *

"I'm still disappointed, Helena as you very well could have told me."

"It's already handled Minerva and you could have done very little after the fact." Helena spread some marmalade onto the toast.

"Except," Minerva sighed, "to have been there for you."

Helena glanced towards her living room and then back, "Are you well? Perhaps," her brow rose, "I am in the presence of another imposter."

"Oh, never fear, I was rather furious with you last evening." Minerva calmly sipped her tea before answering the unspoken question, "However, Hermione's commentary before I flooed over made me pause as it brought to light another perspective."

"Ohh?" Helena didn't bother to hide her curiosity.

"Merely that you worry for me just as I do for you."

Blue eyes narrowed, "I'm sure there was a bit more to it, especially as you found out last night and didn't floo over till this morning."

"There usually is." Minerva remarked, "And how did you garner Dilys cooperation?"

"I have no idea what you are referring to?"

"Ministry business resulting in excess baggage." Minerva retorted deadpan.

Helena couldn't help but laugh, "Yes, well…that is a little too accurate."

"At least you had sense enough to accept an escort." Helena's face flushed, and Minerva shook her head knowingly, "Or rather that Gawain held his ground."

"He can be annoyingly persistent."

"Sounds like a friend of mine."

"Yes, well; I suppose it's no wonder why he's such good friends with my husband."

"When does the detail start?"

"It started yesterday," Helena scooped some of her eggs onto her toast, "and it is a considerable inconvenience."

"I hope Johannes thinks so as well." Minerva picked at her croissant.

"He won't attack St. Mungos," Helena remarked, "that's far too out in the open for him. As am I as you well know."

"He's going to get more and more desperate as time passes and one thing he does know for certain, is that we are incredibly close friends."

"But he also has to know that even if he does capture me," Helena swallowed the ball forming in the back of her throat, "you would not give up Hogwarts for me."

"Oh my dear, how so very wrong you are."

"Minerva?"

Minerva's eyes sparkled, "Of all the persons in the world Helena, you may very well be the one I would." She reached across the space between them, taking familiar fingers within her own. "As it would kill my last spark of hope to have to watch you die."

"Oh, don't be so melancholy; as you'd laugh at his sordid face and if you didn't," Helena's eyes hardened, "I'd tell you to start, because I wouldn't let you trade me for Hogwarts." She gripped Minerva's hand tighter, "As I too would rather die than my daughter or your children; and while your brilliant strategic mind will do its end all to save Harold and I, I need you to be willing to sacrifice us too. Neither Harold or I have any preconceived notions as to what this will cost before the rising darkness is vanquished, and the odds are growing dimmer as to whether you will survive to the end; but I know you," blue eyes burned bright, "and your orchestrating abilities. You will have set a series of events into motion that will last well past your death."

"Not this time." Minerva whispered, "I haven't the energy. I'm merely going after the head; it'll be up to you, Rory, Hermione and everyone else to disband the movement."

"What if you don't stop Harkiss?"

"Then I will arrive in Kings Cross with a heavy heart and have left an equally onerous burden in the wake of my passing."

"Minerva your magic is so weak now, that even if you do duel Harkiss how can you expect to beat him?"

"I'll use the last of Albus' magic, my own and Hogwarts." She squeezed Helena's fingers and withdrew her own, "I've already re-warded the castle and if I have any subsequent large draws upon Hogwarts I shall collapse the Headmistress Tower and the bowels beneath."

"What of the portraits, annals, books…the heart?"

"All but the books are warded with protective spells and shall be fine."

"Will it be enough?"

"To kill Johannes, it should be." Minerva quietly answered.

"But it will kill you too and cause severe burns."

"I can't think about it, as I am already having problems casting the simplest of spells because the pain that erupts along my fingers."

"Have you continued to have Filius handle more of the intense warding aspects at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, along with using the floo, and have even had new cloaks made that don't require magic and countless other things to try and help stymie the drain."

Between bites Helena asked a question that had been weighing on her, "Have you told Hermione?" At the blank expression upon Minerva's face she couldn't help but sigh, "You know given enough time, she'll figure it out on her own."

"I am rather hoping that it shall be a moot point."

"Minerva…"

"I know, Helena. But in some respects, it is nice not having a friend whose sole focus is not upon my impending demise." Minerva quickly amended her statement at seeing the hurt flash across Helena's features. "That does not mean that I do not care to be in your company merely that the tone of our conversations of late have become more and more focused upon my waning health and magic."

Chagrin passed across Helena's face, "I wish I could rebuff your assessment, but it is far truer than I care to admit."

"And I am thankful that you can share the growing burden." Minerva stirred a drop of honey into her tea, "However, regarding Hermione; the truth of the matters is that I don't know…" she paused and glanced up to Helena, "if I can."

Helena could see the hesitation, "Why not? It can't be any harder then telling Tessa and Perc."

Minerva cleared her throat, "There are two reasons that weigh heavily," tears slipped down her lashes, "the first that I can no longer travel alone without considerable risk, and if she learns the truth she may cease to accompany me and the last opportunity for me to kill Johannes will be squandered and while I may live a few scant months more, I will undoubtedly be burying more of those I care for. The second," Minerva paused as she gathered the whole of nerve, whispering, "is far more personal and troubling."

She leaned forward at the continued quiet emanating from her friend, eyes scanning Minerva's and then her features…her hand involuntarily drifting up to her mouth as emerald eyes became glossed over with tears and shame. "Oh, honey…" She breathed out as the gravity of what Minerva was silently conveying stilled her soul. _Somehow she had developed feelings for Hermione. And what of Albus? Their bond? _Tears instantly pulsed behind her eyes as she gasped aloud.

"I know." Minerva murmured.

"I…do…Minerva, are you alright?" Helena breathed out practically speechless, her brain spinning out of control. "What of your bond? Have you and Albus spoken?"

"Yes we have. The day before yesterday," Minerva brushed the tears away, "and it did not go well."

"Day before yesterday?" Helena's voice practically shrieked, before she managed to bring her voice back down to normal conversational levels, "You two spoke on Christmas, about this?"

"And this morning." Minerva continued on, ignoring Helena's shocked expression and commentary, "Which went better, but it will take considerable effort on both our parts to get through the next few months."

"I thought your attraction was relegated to your heat cycle," Helena grappled with the new information. "You're telling me that it isn't." She shook her head, "But that doesn't make sense, you're still bound to Albus – aren't you?"

"I am bound to him." Minerva quietly agreed.

"Minerva, what you are saying is…unprecedented and theoretically impossible. You can't be attracted to someone other than who you are bound to." Helena's startling intellect skipped forward, eyes widening and she innately reached up to pull her glasses away from her face. Enabling her to peer directly into Minerva's eyes, not wanting a barrier as she asked the next logical question that she feared she already knew the answer to. "Dear Merlin Minerva, are you falling in love with her?"

Minerva met Helena's piercing question with a stoic resolve as she carefully weighed her answers. She wasn't ready to lay the truth completely bare, even to her closest friend; however, nor could she lie to her – she swore she would never do that to their friendship again. "I believe I could be."

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xoxo

* * *

Harold handed the reports to Quinn, "From the Auror division."

"Weekly magic bursts outside normal areas?"

Harold vaguely nodded, "Mind charting them?" Harold heard himself say as he continued walking past him, thoughts riveted upon his wife and the recent event at St. Mungos. He was opening his office door when he realized that he hadn't heard Quinn's response. With a sigh, he continued on ignoring that minute detail; he'd get the summary later.

He and Helena had spoken for hours early Christmas morning, cumulating in staying awake and watching their grandchildren open their Christmas gifts. Their talk though, had lingered with both of them. Neither had really slept since the incident, worry ebbing through their collective consciousness at any juncture they weren't focused upon something else.

However, it wasn't that they were worried about dying; they had accepted that it would happen decades ago, especially given who their friends were. Their worry, like Minerva's, stemmed for Jordan, Matthew, the grandchildren…and Minerva's family.

Absently he sat down, pulling a stack of papers forward.

And how they would combat the coming darkness, knowing full well that Minerva would prefer to keep them safe; and that was precisely what couldn't happen. Not this time. Not against this adversary. At least, not if they wished to keep their respective families safe; and that was precisely what they intended to do.

He just hoped that wherever death would find them; it would be swift. Or at the very least, it would be swift for Helena; he couldn't bear the notion of her having to suffer.

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xoxo

* * *

Michaels stared at the chart, a frown curling his lips. "You're telling me there have been no signs of improvement?"

"I wouldn't say an additional 10 minutes was the result we were looking for." Travis remarked as he watched Michael's reaction.

"Definitely not." He scanned the notes, "Though perhaps another day…" his voice trailing off as he read how they had increased the draught by .25 with very little effect. He sighed, "Let me know how he is tomorrow."

"I thought you were taking it off."

"Things change." Shrugging Michael handed Lockheart's chart back to Travis, "Besides, I have a few items I was hoping to finish up…"

"She is going to choose you, so stop fretting and killing yourself in the process." Travis interjected, "You are the best candidate for the job, despite what McShea believes. And, she isn't looking to train dozens of persons, just one. My guess is someone whom she can groom to slowly take over St. Mungos or at the very least the day to day side. Most Administrators have long since stopped handling patients, the daily minutia and she has and continues to; but my guess is she's getting older as is her husband and they are probably going to be looking at taking some time off, vacations and such. It isn't like she's taken more than a week off at a time in I can't remember when."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence Travis, but there are several persons who would make a better candidate than me; McShea being one of them."

"He might have more experience, but you my friend," Travis tapped him on his shoulder, "are a far better healer."

A spark of hope ignited behind his eyes, "You really think I've got a chance?"

"I think come January 4th, there will finally be a name occupying the face plate for _Administrator's Intern. _And it'll be yours."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rose trudged along beside her mother, not really wanting to go to her dad's; but she didn't want to create any more problems between them. And it was just for a few days, she could keep herself busy – especially with what Aunt Minerva had gotten her for Christmas.

"Come along sweetheart," her mom stopped and turned, waiting on her to catch up. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Alright, mom." Rose murmured, trying not to show her mom how much she didn't really want to be with her dad and Fresca girl that was more interested in hugging her dad than playing with her or Hugo.

She watched as her mom shifted Hugo to her other shoulder and raised her hand to knock and she closed her eyes; hoping her dad wasn't home so they could go back to Hogwarts with their mom.

The door opened and she felt her shoulders sink despite trying not to show her mom how much it bothered her to come to her dad's.

"Hey Hermione." Ron's voice dropped as he said hello to his children. "Hey there's my favorite son and daughter." He bent over giving Hugo a kiss on his forehead and one on his daughter's cheek. "How 'bout a hug?" He stretched out his arms to her.

And Rose sauntered forward, "Hey dad." She squeezed him around the neck, "We are going to stay with you for a few days."

"I know and I've got a coupled things planned for us." Ron said as he pulled back, "What do you think about going to see the Cannons play tomorrow?"

"Is…" Rose's eyes darted to her mom and she ended her previous sentence, "sounds good." She started into her dad's apartment, pausing at the doorway. "See ya in a week mom."

Hermione kissed Hugo's bleary eyelids and glanced to her daughter, "It'll be sooner than that." She knelt down to be at eye level with her daughter, "I love you sweetheart."

Rose bolted forward, eyes snapping close to stop the tears as she grasped her mother tight. "Love you too, mom."

"Now," Hermione whispered into her ear, "keep your brother out of trouble and I'll see you very soon, alright?"

"Yeah." Rose whispered and kissed her mom's cheek before bee lining into the house, lest her mom see the tears as her parents talked.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Listlessly Hermione found herself walking the halls of Hogwarts, she had too much energy after dropping off the children at Ron's. Rather, after seeing her daughter's heartfelt look indicating how much she was _not_ looking forward to spending time with her father in addition to Ron's overall demeanor after Rose had fled into his apartment. He couldn't see how much she did not want to go to the quidditch match, only that she was there and he was being dutiful and doing 'something' with the children. Even if it was what he liked and not what they liked.

She swept around the corner, robes billowing around her an image of Severus Snape springing to mind at how she undoubtedly looked this evening. She was sure that the scowl that had taken residence upon her features easily matched the one he typically had plastered across his face; and despite her downtrodden thoughts regarding her children and their feelings for their spending time with their father; she couldn't help the smile from forming across her lips. How in the world could she have begun to compare herself to Severus Snape?

Perhaps it would be better for her to pace her rooms rather than lurk in the halls. She veered towards the closest stairwell and wondered if she were an animagus would she feel better if she had the capability to turn into her animal and sprint down the hall at a break neck speed. Would she feel more relaxed? Would it help her to settle?

Her fingers grasped the banister as her thoughts continued would it even take her mind off her troubles or make it more intense? Did Minerva ever turn into her animagus just to escape from her problems? Did she ever sprint down the hallway to ease feelings of anxiousness?

What was she to do regarding her children, namely Rose without destroying the last of her relationship with Ron? It was obvious that Rose did not wish to spend time with her father or at the very least, not very much time. How do I tell him that? How do I tell him that he is losing his daughter?

"Damn." She muttered aloud as she rounded the second floor feeling the weight of what she had seen in her daughter's eyes before filling with tears and darting from the doorway. A part of her _wanted_ to veer down the hall and towards Minerva's office, but she willed herself to continue onwards to her own rooms. She needed to sort this out herself, and with everything else going on with her children and in-laws the last thing she wished to do was further complicate matters. No matter how much she would welcome Minerva's input. Or more precisely, how much she'd like to be in Minerva's company for the evening.

With heavy steps and an equally troubled heart she finished the well-worn path as she did every other day, alone.

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xoxo

* * *

Minerva sealed the parchment, eyes momentarily glazing over as she thought of her grandchildren and the days which seemed to be passing by at a seemingly accelerated pace. In a few scant days the New Year would arrive and school would once again be in session.

She felt a sigh involuntarily leave her lips at how truly little time she had remaining in the land of the living. In some ways it seemed like a life age, slowly marching forward; others, like today – as if she were on the receiving end of the shortened sands of time within a time turner.

While she didn't have the time to allocate to spending an evening and subsequent morning with the grandchildren; she as rapidly running out of viable days. Days that she would never have an opportunity to regain, nor they; nor the scant memories that she could still hope to carry forward for not only them but her as well.

Setting the letter to the side of her desk, she idly flipped the calendar forward and groaned at tomorrow's meetings that she had put off for the last two weeks. Preparatory meetings with the Head of Houses and each Professor for the upcoming 6 months and initial projections for next year's budget.

A part of her almost wished to excuse herself, as it would truly not be her problem within a short period of time; at best it would be Filius'. However, she could not and would not do that to Filius. It would be far easier for her to present the cursory budget for next year, along with the final adjustments for this one. _But, my to not have to worry about the damning budget – did sound rather nice and almost unfathomable as she had been conducting these meetings for longer than she had not. Fifty some odd years, is after all a long time. _

"No that will not do." Minerva commented to herself. "Albeit tempting."

"Recusing yourself from the upcoming budget matters?" Albus inquired knowing the time of year far too well and how much it wore upon his wife.

"The thought had crossed my mind." Minerva admitted as she flipped the calendar page to the 29th. While the day had several meetings scattered across the morning and afternoon, the evening remained quite available.

"You could speak with Filius and see if he'd be willing to assist."

"His world is about to become irrevocably altered in a few short months, and as much as I would prefer not to partake in this year's budgetary exercise; the Board will approve my notes and fiscal assessment with little regard for the contents versus if Filius were to conduct this year's assessment. And I cannot expect him to take that onerous charge in conjunction with assisting me with the minor warding, Deputy Headmaster duties, Ravenclaw Head of House and the Charm's Professor. There are limits, even for our stout and resourceful friend."

"If he is unable, he will say no." Albus remarked.

"Not at this point," Minerva automatically pulled a sheaf of parchment from her drawer and with ease began scratching a note to Katherine and Callum. "He will feel guilty in saying no as he is aware that my magic is deteriorating; and I cannot have him be any more stressed than he is." She signed her name and with a wave of her hand, the letter jumped into the air and folded into a note card; her fingers deftly taking the letter and the suddenly warmed wax and imprinting her aged seal into the paraffin.

"Minerva, why do you worry about matters that will be of little relevance in a few scant months?"

"Filius' sanity is of great importance to not only my welfare but this entire school's," she retorted as she began writing a note to Jordan's three children. "As you well know so please, dear; do stop being obtuse. I am in no mood this evening."

"Filius has far more verve than you believe and give credit to; he is able and willing. My only question that I have is why do you not utilize his skill these next few months to ease your burden?"

"Because," she scratched her name in after thought as she turned to her husband, while she repeated the same process as before with the parchment being folded into that of a note, wax smeared along the edge and sealed. "It is not his burden, rather mine. And while he may be able; why would I thrust the ever-expanding weight upon him when in a few short months he will have to bear the entire burden alone – for an indefinite period of time. With few resources and even fewer allies as the world will try to rise from the growing darkness. Even if I am lucky enough to end Harkiss' life, there is much to be rebuilt and his followers will need to be quelled. Additionally to finding a Deputy, a Charms professor, a Head of House; there is the added weight of several professors who may not return, those who are currently living in the North Wing as my guest; provisions for them that are not being made through the Hogwart's budget; and that is before we begin to speak of the most important aspect of his job – the safety of the students. So, no Albus; I do not wish to overburden him now, because in a few months it will not be a burden I am leaving him with rather the weight of Hogwarts and he will have to become that which he has never sought, a lynch pin for the wizarding world."

"Minerva, you underestimate him."

"No, love." Minerva stood with a forlorn look upon her face, "He, like me, is tired. And if I can forestall the inevitable for a few scant weeks, then that is what I shall do as he is a friend. Now," she grasped her walking cane, and in one fluid motion banished the letters to Elgin or Tily to deliver. "I have one more request to make regarding the day after tomorrow." She began striding from the room, but his gravelly voice stopped her departure.

"Hermione's children?"

She felt a wave of emotions mix through her system through their subsequent bond and her grip upon the head of her walking cane tightened as her jaw flexed and slowly she turned back to her husband's portrait. "Yes."

Blue eyes met green and with great restraint, he quelled the comment upon the tip of his tongue; knowing that it was not the children's fault that they had become close to the remarkable woman a scant fifty feet from him. He merely wished that she and their mother were not as close and growing closer by the day; which he figured their tiny hands were helping to steal his wife's heart away when not looking. "I hope they are able."

"As do I." Minerva genuinely replied and with a tip of her head she turned on her heel, and three more steps she had exited the office through the main door.

The portraits waited only a scant moment after the door closed before their collective eyes pinned their compatriot. However, it was not Dily's or Everard or even Phinneas or Severus that asked the question; it stemmed from the Founder's portrait. And not from the portrait who had known the man the longest, but from the most unlikeliest of the esteemed gallery; as Helga's earthy cadence rang outward across the office. "What in Earth's moon has happened between the two of you?"

"Helga…"

She shook her head, blond hair rustling across frame. "Do not think me or the lot of this room as if we are daft. We have been here and born witness to much of your lives. Now, what has changed?"

"Nothing." Albus replied.

Godric stepped into the foreground next to Helga, "We've all sensed your growing discord but she is right; there is something else that now lingers between you both."

Rowena joined the other two, "An added weight that seems to be fracturing your connection and increasing the divide."

"Has your bond somehow diminished?" Dily's finally queried.

"No," Salazar's deep baritone voice silencing any further comments or questions, "I have seen that look within your eye before." He waited several long moments before Albus slowly lifted his gaze upwards to meet his. "The question isn't what has happened between our inter-dimensional lovers rather who."

A collective gasp could be heard followed by a chorus of impossible's and remarks regarding how uncouth Salazar was; but he merely held Albus' gaze and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more until the murmurings died down and Godric was finally able to speak.

"Albus, is there any truth to Salazar's remark?"

With reverent slowness, his gaze shifted from Salazar to Godric. "When we wish to share what is happening between Minerva and I, we will. Until then, we ask that you not pry."

"Albus," Godric's voice softened, "perhaps we can assist."

Despair flashed in the depths of azure eyes, "We remain separated by time, space and flesh; and have for over 13 years but our souls remain bound. If I concentrate, I can still feel her breathe across my cheek; I felt her excitement at learning that we were to have another grandchild; the heartache and loss of Aberforth's death; the plaguing worry regarding Helena and Harold's safety in conjunction with our children, the students and Order members. And yet, I have to also feel how our bound is slowly ripping my wife's magical core apart, the mounting pain each time she casts a spell; the way her fatigue lances through her reserves sapping her spirit and still she pushes onward. I am afraid my friends that there is nothing that _any_ of you can do for either of us, as we have been damned to an untenable situation that is growing more so with each passing day."

"There must be something we can do." Dilys remarked unable to believe differently.

"Pray that Minerva's resolve remains unyielding." Albus whispered the duality of his meaning lost to all others, save one.

Salazar nodded as he faded into the background of the Founders portrait, waiting and patiently wondering who had caused the flash of jealousy to spark behind Albus' normally serene eyes.

He had a notion _who_ had caught their Headmistress' eye, and later this evening he'd speak with Godric and quietly share his view. While they had not agreed on many things, they both did understand one emotion with far too much clarity as it had created the first of many rifts between them – jealousy over Rowena.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva stepped in front of the founder's portrait, "Godric," she paused a moment until a shadow of himself appeared, "will you please see if Hermione has a moment?"

"Forgive me," Godric fully materialized, "Minerva, but the atmosphere between you and Albus has become weighted and the air heavy. Is there something amiss that has happened between you?"

"I will reiterate what Albus already has, my friend; we shall divulge it in due course if and when we are ready. Now," her eyes flickered to the doorway, "will you please relay my query?"

"At once." He stepped from the canvas and Minerva patiently waited until the hasp unlatched and the door opened.

Minerva stepped in, "Hermione?"

"Please come in, I'm in the living area." Her words fluttering from the depth of the other room.

Minerva closed the door and nodded to Godric, "You can return to heckling my husband," she whispered and smiled at his chagrined expression, before tilting her head and he in turn doing the same before fading from the portrait and returning to her office. Minerva shook her head not wanting to ponder what Albus was being questioned about, but knowing it inevitably dealt with them; and despite their concerted effort to maintain that nothing had changed, she knew in her heart that it could be seen – especially by the portraits who had witnessed all but two years of their marriage. Stilling her thoughts, it would not do well to dwell on it considering whose company she was about to be within. Striding around the corner, she saw why Hermione had not answered her door; she was sitting in the middle of floor with papers strewn in stacks about her. "How are Rose and Hugo this evening?"

The weight within Hermione's stomach plummeted and despite trying to keep her face from falling – she knew she had failed miserably despite seeing the woman whose mere presence of late lifted her spirits.

"Is everything well with them?" Concern immediately lacing Minerva's cadence and features upon seeing Hermione's reaction.

"Yes," Hermione quickly stated, "they are well." She indicated toward a seat upon the chesterfield three meters in front of her. "Sorry, I did not mean to make you worry. It's just…" She placed her arms behind her and leaned back, as she met Minerva's gaze and after a heartbeat shook her head. "Never mind." She forced a smile onto her face, "And how are you this evening?"

"Suddenly concerned." Minerva honestly answered noting Hermione's burdened features.

"It is nothing but my own nonsensical musings."

"You are an intelligent and clever woman whose judgment I trust; hence I would never classify your thoughts and beliefs as nonsensical." She leaned incrementally forward, "What is troubling you?"

"Minerva, I'm sure it was nothing."

"Your eyes say otherwise." Minerva countered, "Now, what is going on in regards to your children?"

"Rose," Hermione relented, "I dropped her off at Ron's this evening and I swear, I could see tears in her eyes before she darted into his apartment. I just…I don't think they want to spend time with their father and I…" She sighed, "What am I to do? Ron and my relationship is tenuous at best, and if I tell him that he is losing his children what then? And I thought of taking them every weekend, but then they will never see their father and does that make me any better? What right do I have to make that summary judgment? How do I know that what I do with them is of any more value than what he does?"

"You don't." Minerva stated simply, "But it would be prudent to have a conversation with him versus not maintaining a dialogue. Regarding who and where the children will be on the weekends, I believe that you and Ronald will be able to sort it out. Either way, they are welcome at Hogwarts on the weekends as I previously stated."

"After everything, I don't wish to ruin the last remaining threads of our relationship." A heavy sigh slipped past her lips, "While not in love with him, I still _do _love him and want him to be a part of my life and the children's."

"Part of dissolving a relationship means letting it all go so you can rebuild it anew." Minerva eased herself off the edge of the couch, and onto the floor opposite of Hermione. "You are amidst redefining who you are and all the relationships that are important to you. Yours and Ronald's relationship will never be what it once was and you need to ascertain what that means now and what it'll mean in the future."

"Is that…what you did when Albus died?"

Minerva barely breathed as she fought for a semblance of footing beneath her as she tried to find a way to answer the question hanging between them. "In a manner of speaking, yes." Minerva finally stated opting for a semblance of the truth. "My life was irrevocably altered that day." Her throat caught and she forced the remainder of the words out. "It became difficult to redefine many of my relationships because so few people knew of my marriage to Albus; but regarding Hogwarts, friends and family, very much."

"How so?"

A wry grin spread across thin lips, "Albus has always been the flamboyant one while I am deemed the far more reserved one; and after his passing that distinction became less defined."

"Did you ever find it difficult to live in his shadow?"

"Lived within his shadow? No," emerald eyes narrowed, "I would never say that was the case. I have never wished to be the one front and center after my parents' death, and have sought refuge in anonymity."

"Being the Headmistress of Hogwarts does not leave much anonymity."

"I'd beg to differ," Minerva continued on, "as most of my life is shrouded in it, including my time as Headmistress for how much of my daily life can you account for?"

"While you meet your obligations, I imagine the nature of how you meet them and all the details between would be a fascinating truth that I doubt any soul alive will uncover lest you avail it to them. You do manage to incorporate two or three person's days into a singular one."

"True."

"Do you have a time turner stashed within your robes?"

"Not of late." Minerva obliquely replied, "Though there was a temptation to utilize one several years ago."

Hermione knew better than to inquire, figuring it dealt with either Esmerele or Albus and in all probability it was her daughter. "How many time turners are at Hogwarts?"

"Only one and it is enclosed within a small vault at my office."

"Is that the one I utilized during my third year?"

"No, that was my personal one."

"You…have a personal one?" Hermione stared at her dumbfounded, "How do you have one?" Her mind rapidly spinning ahead, "They are restricted to Ministry allocation and use only. They keep very tight controls on them."

"I am aware; however, I have lived a unique life that has afforded me a few conveniences."

"A few?" Hermione chuckled, "I am almost curious enough to ask what they are, however, I am more curious as to what you did or were involved with to warrant you the ability to keep a time turner off the Ministry roles?"

"Let's just say that Albus and I were instrumental in developing some of the Ministry's policies regarding time turners amongst several others."

"There has to be a story in there somewhere." Hermione ribbed, eyes sparkling in time with the flames. "At least there must be from the smile curling the corner of your lips."

Minerva was about to pass on the remark, but at seeing the light emanating from the depths of her brown eyes she found herself adjusting her back against the chesterfield, "One in particular event I believe you'll find rather humorous."

"Oh," Hermione smiled leaning back, "do tell."

Minerva's brow quirked a quarter of an inch, "Perhaps not."

"Come on, it can't be that bad." Hermione coaxed.

Mirth lined emerald eyes, "It's not, now."

"Well, you can't leave until you share."

"I'll remember this when you're sitting where I am."

Hermione shrugged with a roguish smile, "I'm sure. Now pony up."

Minerva reached up and withdrew her glasses from her face, Hermione immediately noticed how the light was caught by her eyes and she forced herself not to look anywhere save for the pools of emerald. "Pony up?" She questioned while tucking her glasses away into her robes, "Is that a muggle expression of some sort inferring a type of payment?"

"Yes, and it's a colloquialism from the Wild West; Hugo was watching an old Western with my dad on Christmas." Hermione easily answered.

"A western movie?" Minerva asked for clarification.

"Yes, on cable." Hermione found her mind rapidly springing forward, not remembering seeing any televisions within the Manor and offering an explanation. "My parents oft times use a television for entertainment, they have all types of programming available. From hour long specials on cooking, the news, channels with movies, drama and comedy shows that last an hour but are recurring."

A wry grin passed over Minerva's features, as she realized how much Hermione _didn't_ know about her. "While not entirely versed in the happenings of the muggle world," and she couldn't help herself from having just a wee bit of fun, "I do happen to have a hint of understanding regarding the tele."

Hermione's eyes widened and words began spilling from her lips at her own presumption, she should have realized that Minerva would know at least a little bit about television. "Sometimes I forget that unlike most wizarding families, you maintain working knowledge of what is happening in the muggle world."

"It helps to have business dealings in both the muggle and wizarding worlds," Minerva remarked.

"I…yeah," she narrowed her eyes at Minerva, "you own a TV don't you?" At Minerva's blank expression she spouted her next thought aloud. "Not at the Manor, but at the…Ridge." Her eyes sparkled as she realized Minerva's sense of humor. "And right now, you're just playing with me because of my assumption that you didn't know." Her brow quirked, "You probably have the latest system that records shows for you during the year and you watch them when you return home on the holidays."

Minerva's mouth quirked, "There may be some truth to your statement."

Hermione's jaw slackened, "Really?"

"I have grandchildren and was married to Albus Dumbledore, the man who thoroughly enjoyed the wonders of muggle innovation." Humor lacing Minerva's eyes and voice. "Of course I have a tele Hermione."

"Do you have one at the Manor?"

"Yes."

Hermione shook her head, "Wow…I'd never have thought."

A rich chuckle erupted from rosy lips, "Yes well you are more accurate than you thought. As it is something that I indulge in upon occasion but it gets far greater use from the grandchildren at this juncture than myself; however," the smile that had lit her face only moments before slipped away as she stated a far more realistic perspective regarding her affairs. "I fear I am far more comfortable with a book in my lap and a fire roaring in the library than watching a few hours of tele." She half-heartedly shrugged, "A true tell-tale of my heritage and age it would seem."

"No," Hermione reached out and lay her hand upon Minerva's knee, "I wouldn't equate your lack of interest in watching television due to your heritage and age; rather that most of the programs are not very engaging." Hermione's tone dropping, "As I rarely watch television either, and when I do it is typically with the children or the occasional movie at the cinema with my friends."

"It has been several years since I have taken in a movie at the cinema," Minerva patted Hermione's hand upon her knee, dispelling the melancholy feeling that threatened to overtake her. And she responded from her heart as she fought not to dwell on such notions, "Perhaps this summer we can both indulge for an evening."

An easy smile curled her lips at the thought of spending time with Minerva after the school year and for an evening, "I'd like that."

_I would too, _Minerva merely nodded and shifted the conversation away from her feelings regarding the younger woman and the promises of what could only be at this point false hope. "I had just started working at Hogwarts and Albus had left a time turner upon his night stand. Percival – " an image of the her son flashed in her mind's eye as a boy with unruly auburn hair and large peering eyes staring up at her. She sighed, shaking her head and remembering the awful gut wrenching feeling that something had or would happen to their son as the time turner slipped from his grasp. "He had just turned four and had managed to find his way into our room."

Involuntarily Hermione withdrew her hand from Minerva's leg, "He didn't."

She nodded, "Oh, I can assure you he did. He thought it was the coolest thing how the grains of sand would slip from one side to the other. To this day, I have no idea how many times the hourglass on the time turner was spun. I only remember the way the glass and sand shot everywhere across the room as it fell from his hand."

"Oh my, what happened?" Hermione asked partially horrified at what could have happened and as well as intensely curious too.

"Thankfully, the intensity of the time turner was nullified as the sand spread outward, however, it did _effect_ everything within the room that it touched. Percival and I spent a lovely month at the Manor while we caught up to our normal time. After the fact, the duality of the room that seemed to be moderately off kilter made far more sense; however, it was not something I could discuss with myself or Albus until after the time. Percival had been heartbroken that he had to leave all of his favorite toys at Hogwarts, and not having his father for several weeks was a bit trying to the lad."

"How did you keep Bonnie and the elves from telling Albus or your other self? And didn't you need to go to the Manor over the course of the month?"

"It seems timing has a way of working out, as we had just moved into the Ridge a few weeks prior. I gave a rudimentary explanation to Bonnie who informed whom she needed to, and assisted in keeping Rory and Derrick from the Manor as well for the month."

"What would happen to you or someone if a time turner were to burst apart in their robes?"

"I'd imagine you'd find yourself much farther than you intended, perhaps three times maybe even four."

"Magical focus versus dispellment? Akin to having a wand to cast a summoning spell versus wandless magic?"

"Yes, the initial testing indicated as much and I am sure the Department of Mysteries continued their research, however, I wanted little to do with the testing."

"Why?"

"Their experiments contained live persons, and two wizards and two witches had not been heard from after the initial testing."

"Ever?"

"Harold relayed one evening after we had both ingested a fair amount of port that Quinton Kent had managed to send word, or rather it had been discovered in the bowels of the Ministry archives."

"How far back did he wind up? Fifty years?"

"Four hundred and seventy-two." Minerva replied.

"Are you sure?" Hermione replied in shock.

"Through various sources, I can attest to the veracity of Harold's statement. It was a short letter with little relevance and had been filed as a journal testament to the time."

"They didn't send a time turner with him so he'd be able to return?"

"The farthest back they've been able to successfully go has been just over a hundred years."

"He, along with the others, were stuck."

"It would seem."

"I'm never carrying it around in my pocket again."

Minerva smiled, "While prudent it is not always viable."

"Four hundred years," she quietly muttered, "I can't imagine."

"It does make one pause that's for certain."

"Little would be the same, even magic along with the spells had to be very different."

"Indubitably, however, I am sure that whomever was placed in that position learned to adapt if they survived the time travel."

"You don't think that some of them survived?"

"I cannot be certain, but I would venture that no; not all of them did. It is a terrible strain upon the body for a moderately short trip in comparison. Percival and I were exhausted for the better part of a day, I'm sure it would be much much longer if that had been centuries versus weeks."

"Do you miss it?" Hermione found herself elaborating, "The Department of Mysteries?"

"Other than seeing aspects of magic on the cusp, no. As there are some facets of magic that one should be very careful when delving into."

Hermione's eyes twinkled as she realized what Minerva was referring to. "Like Transformation?"

"Precisely."

"The Department doesn't know much about Transformation do they?"

A coy smile tugged at Minerva's lips, "Harold does not like transfiguration as there are aspects that defies current magical lore and law. As for transformation, he has had little _known_ exposure, thinking it to be facets of transfiguration that he is not knowledgeable in."

"It may be helpful if a high level master also worked at the department."

"Helpful, but unlikely."

"And Helena?"

"Do not mistake my response regarding Harold, as both Helena and Harold are aware of an underlying current through all the disciplines and additional knowledge held by the Masters of those disciplines; but it is like trying to understand something without knowing the construct upon which it was built."

"Hermione, you should know that Mr. Wheeler has just left the Tower." Godric stated as he returned to his portrait.

"Exactly how often did you know when Harry, Ron and I left the Tower?" Hermione asked standing.

"The Fat Lady had an affinity for you three," she took Hermione's proffered hand as she too stood. "But more often than you'd believe." She wandlessly summoned her walking cane, "Thank you."

Hermione nodded by way of response to the latter comment, choosing to address the former one. "Then why didn't you stop us from wandering the hall?"

"The same reason that you will investigate what Mr. Wheeler is partaking in after hours and probably let him be on his way if he is not disturbing or harming anyone. Children will be children, our job is to guide and help protect; not smother."

"Did you ever watch us as your animagus?"

"I'm having my grandchildren along with Helena's the day after next, and I was hoping to invite Rose and Hugo for the evening as well if they are able."

Hermione pondered the request before asking, "And the answer to my question?"

"On occasion, but there are efficient ways of moving about without being an animagus too."

Hermione _wanted _to ask what she meant by her statement, but the words remained upon her lips. She needed to see what Mr. Wheeler was doing away from the Tower, "I'm sure they'd love to visit. I know Ron had a few things planned, but I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Wonderful, and I'll see you tomorrow." Minerva replied and strode towards the inner doorway that magically appeared as her body shimmered and started becoming see through.

"Minerva, you're…becoming invisible."

Minerva turned her head back, a glint in her eye before totaling vanishing from view. "A most splendid charm." She replied and reached forward, opening the door. "Good night."

Hermione watched the door close as if on its own and she shook herself from her reverie, she needed to find Mr. Wheeler. At once she spun on her heel and headed to the main door. "Do you know where he was heading Godric?" She inquired as she approached the portrait.

The portrait faded for a moment before reappearing, "He was just seen exiting onto the second floor."

"How'd we get away with anything?" Hermione muttered as she opened her door.

"You weren't endangering yourself," Godric replied, "at least during the school year. However, the end of your respective school years tended to be somewhat more perilous to your health and would often cause a great deal of consternation to both Albus and Minerva."

Hermione felt her smile widen as she nodded and quickly egressed, robes flourishing about her with a lightness not felt since taking her children to Ron's and returning to Hogwarts.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Laments the time between updates, it was not planned and can be traced back to a singular word – work. As always I do hope you enjoyed!_


	73. Chapter 70 December 28th, 2009

**Chapter 70 ~ December 28****th****, 2009 (Monday)**

"'ello." George leant in and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for meeting me this morning." He slipped into the seat across from her as he waved the server over. "A nip of coffee would be excellent."

"Coming right up." She stated and looked towards Hermione, "And I'll top yours off when I bring his. Are you two ready to order or will you need a minute?"

"Give us a few will you?" George stated and returned his attention back to Hermione. "Do you need to be back for breakfast?"

"No," Hermione fingered the edge of her cup, "I spoke with Filius before coming, he graciously agreed to watch the Tower for a few hours."

"Census low over the holidays?"

"Perhaps a few dozen students total, less than a dozen in Gryffindor." She leaned back to enable the server to pour her some fresh coffee after setting George's down. "Thanks." She commented to the server as she topped off her cup.

"Are you ready or still looking?"

"I'm okay for now." Hermione replied.

"Likewise," George nodded to the pleasant lady, "but we'll let you know when we're ready."

Shoving her pad into her smock, the lady grabbed the coffee pot and went about her morning.

"Sorry for canceling out on you yesterday morning," George poured some cream into his coffee. "Had a few things that needed to be taken care of."

Hermione subtly cast a silencing spell about them, "Would those things relate back to a six foot three highlander named Rory?"

Blue eyes widened to the size of saucers as his face flushed and matched his hair while he stammered for an answer that wasn't forth coming.

A rueful smile pulled at Hermione's lips as she placed her hand upon his arm, "Breathe George, and before you have a heart attack; no no one knows."

"Hermione, I…" He took a deep settling breath, "Please you mustn't tell anyone."

She could see the worry bordering on sheer panic, "I won't."

He stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding, "It's just that my family…I'm not ready and I know that mum won't take kindly to the idea and Percy." He scoffed, "Percy will be an ass at best."

"I think your mom will be understanding if you talk with her."

"No," A look of sorrow passed across his face, "she wants grandchildren to dote on. Keeps hinting at it when tendrils of my relationship surfaces at home; when she'll get to meet the lucky girl, especially as I may finally be settling down. Or rather she hopes I am."

"Are you?"

His brows furloughed, "What?"

"Settling down?"

"I only started seeing …him two months ago."

Hermione had noted the slight pause with how he answered, and could tell that while he would honestly speak with her about his relationship with Rory; it was still difficult to vocalize. "And?"

"And what?"

"How has it been? It's obvious that you care for him, and he you as he took you to meet and spend an evening with Minerva."

"You know about that?" His voice inflection rose two octaves.

"Her family knows that Rory is seeing someone and that he took his new _friend_ to meet her a few weeks ago. They badgered him relentlessly at her holiday dinner."

"I don't remember…" George frantically tried recalling the events from McG's gala in its entirety. "Anything of that nature being discussed."

"Her private family dinner two nights later."

"Ohh…" George visibly relaxed, knowing what she was now referencing as he had stoutly refused to join Rory that evening. Though, Rory had stopped by later and surprised him and left him defending his relationship or lack thereof with Hermione for the better part of the remainder of the evening to his two brothers. "Wait," George pushed the memories aside, "you went to McG's private holiday dinner?"

"Yes," she replied, "and no, no one – well that may not be true. Harold may have figured out how Rory was referencing, but her children didn't."

"Her children," George frowned, "who are they? Do I know them?"

Hermione shook her head, "Uh-ah. You can ask Rory or Minerva but don't do that to me George."

"Sorry darling, forget I asked."

"I'll admit, it was rather humorous to watch her son badgering Rory; they were very curious as to who their _uncle_ was seeing."

"Just please tell me that I am a little older than her children." George gazed into her eyes, hoping that were the case. Even if it was only a few months older than Rory's 'nephew'.

Hermione shook her head, "Nope."

"Is his nephew a lot older than me?" A look of apprehension flashed across George's features.

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you." Hermione stated hoping to have side stepped the whole issue. "It was obvious from the commentary the other night that they truly care for Rory and only want what is best for him."

"Well, that can't be me. I'm what, half his age?"

"Do you feel like you're half his age when you're with him?"

"Hermione…"

"I'm serious George. Do you think Rory cares what your age is? Has he said anything?"

"It hasn't come up."

"And what about you? Do you care about your age difference?"

Seconds dragged between them before he finally answered, "No."

"Then what makes you think his family cares?"

"I'm younger than the whole of them."

"At least you're older than the grandchildren."

"You really know how to make a guy feel good."

Hermione chuckled, "I thought that was Rory's job."

A light blush instantly colored his cheeks, "And he does marvelously at it."

Instantly she leaned forward a bit more, "So you two…have, you know?" Her eyes raking over his features for a sign and finally he slowly nodded his head. "Was it…was he, is he…"

"Very talented." George interjected feeling his loins stir at the mere notion of his lover as his blush deepened.

"How long have you two been, intimate?"

He shook his head, "Out of bounds."

"No." She leaned back, "Nice try."

"I'm not…"

"You are." She crossed her arms over her chest, "That incident with your lover coming to your home after Minerva's party as me and kissing you in front of your brothers; namely Ron." She nodded as his eyes widened, "Do you know how that helped my relations with your brother?"

"Hermione, I'm sorry about that."

"No, you aren't." A chortle left her lips, "And I wouldn't be either. It was pretty brilliant if you ask me, but you - get to cough up a few details."

"It didn't seem that it affected you and Ron on Christmas Eve."

"It did."

"Hermione – "

"You aren't going to divert me off of my original question."

"Alright, but what happened between you and Ron?"

"He tried to reconcile."

A light flashed in his blue eyes, "And?"

"I said, no." She quietly replied.

"You had to have your reasons." He inwardly recalled their conversation the morning after her birthday, "Other than the intimacy one."

"I'm not delving there unless there is quid pro quo."

"We've been intimate for about a month." George answered within the next heartbeat.

"Alright," Hermione leant forward, "Ron and I…our sex life had dissipated to anger fueled passion that spawned Hugo's conception; and very little since then save for…" She steeled her voice and finished a harrowing truth, "a handful of encounters."

George sighed, "I'm sorry darling."

"It's not your fault."

He nodded, "Well I doubt you'll want to know, but Rory is an excellent lover."

"Feeling a bit of envy."

"You'll find someone."

"Well, you can't just leave it there. Excellent as in…?"

"No, I'm not embarrassing myself."

"After everything you've done to me," Hermione jabbed back, "not counting the last statement regarding _my_ less than optimal intimate experience with your brother."

"Fine," he shifted, voice dropping as the color in his cheeks became more prominent, "just thinking about Rory causes…reactions."

"Really." Hermione couldn't keep the surprise from her voice and she found herself taking her commentary and morphing the word into a question. "Really?"

"I've never been more pleased with magic than the last month." George raised his cup to his lips, "It's been wonderful these past few weeks."

"He's talented?"

"Amazingly so," he replied as he set his cup back down.

"And are you thinking about settling down?"

"Like I said, we've only been together for the past month."

"Perhaps, but you are evading my question."

"I'm not evading, it's just a fact."

"No," Hermione countered as she speculated on the truth from the gaze upon his features. "You are evading, you care about him."

"If I didn't I wouldn't have become intimate with him."

"No, I mean like you _really_ care about him." Her voice dropped another octave, "Like a lot."

"Yeah, why wouldn't I like him?"

"That look says more than like, rather love."

"Hermione, I haven't known him long enough…"

"You're in love with him," Hermione interjected.

"I…just like him."

"Hu-uh. Is that why you're concerned with what Molly and Percy will say because you're in love with him and you're afraid of having to make a choice?"

"It isn't about making a choice."

"Then you are in love with him."

"No, well…yeah, I don't know; and that isn't the point."

"Well what is the point?"

"I can't afford to fall in love with him." He stated exasperated, shoulders sinking.

"I'm not following."

"That's because you aren't me." A note of loss crept into his voice.

"George, what's going on? It's apparent that you _really_ care for Rory and from his commentary it is apparent that he cares in equal measure for you. I don't understand what is bothering you."

"At some point, I'm either going to have to tell my family that I'm in a relationship with Rory or break it off and try to find a woman that'll make me happy, get married, and have a child."

"Why would you even entertain the second option? You love him." He met her gaze with his and she reaffirmed her statement. "You do. And I think you have admitted it to yourself, so why would you even think about leaving him?"

"Because I can't stand the thought of losing my family."

"And being miserable for the rest of your life is an alternate how?"

"You asked." George ran a hand through his hair, "Now you know." He turned towards their waitress and motioned for her.

"You can't be serious." Hermione replied before lifting the silencing charm.

"Could you risk losing your family?"

"I did while at Hogwarts and then after when I brought them back." Hermione genuinely responded.

"I forgot…"

"You've decided?" the woman asked as she poured some more coffee into each of their cups.

"A cup of fruit and some oatmeal."

"Eggs, bacon, home fries."

"It'll be up shortly." She stopped and glanced to George, "How do you want your eggs?"

"Over easy."

She jotted a couple of notes down and moved towards the kitchen, and Hermione immediately re-cast the silencing spell.

"Don't let fear of what could happen stop you from being happy."

"And what of you and Ron? I'm sure there is more to the story than the lack of intimacy between you."

"George –"

"Hey, remember quid pro quo."

"Ah…" Hermione squelched her desire to obfuscate and straightened her back as she readied herself to answer. "Do you really want me to answer?" She absently passed her cup between her two hands. "He was your brother after all."

"You're my friend. And while I may not like hearing how daft my brother was and can be it doesn't mean that I am unaware of his capability."

"He is a great guy, George; but, a lousy husband."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"It wasn't the intimacy that started off being a problem, but his thought that I should be like Molly."

"That can't be farther from who you are."

"But that's who I turned into. I stopped doing things that I enjoyed because; I grew tired of doing them by myself. He never partook in activities that I enjoyed; and once I became pregnant with Rose it continued to spiral. Our marriage became less about us and more about him."

"Did you ever talk to him about it?"

"We had a horrendous row one night while Rose was actually with you. In some ways, that was the beginning of the end of our marriage; and the end of our intimacy. Our sex life became passion filled anger with little love left between us."

"And when he spoke to you about reconciling did any of this come up?"

"I…thought about giving in, George." She finally glanced up to meet blue eyes filled with concern, "When he asked, I really did. And if it had been a few months ago, I fear I may have."

"No, you wouldn't have."

"How can you be sure?"

"The same way that you knew that I…love Rory, I just do."

"Well," she frowned and let her gaze drop back to her coffee, "no matter what, I said no. Even though," An image of Minerva flashed through her mind's eye, "I should have said yes."

"What? Why? Especially if you don't love him."

"I am tired of being alone, and don't get me started on the volume of vapid letters I receive each day from potential suitors. Merlin forbid I'd have to say yes to any of them, they make Lockheart seem normal."

"They can't be that bad."

"Oh, they're worse. Not counting I have a mess brewing with members of your family."

"Ron will come around, as will Charlie given a little bit of time." He tipped his head to the side, "Unless, do you like Charlie? Is that the problem?"

"No," Hermione immediately rebuked, "that isn't the problem, as I don't like Charlie. At least not in that regard. Well, I thought at one point I might, but no." Hermione stopped her prattling, "That isn't it."

George narrowed his eyes at his friend's obvious distress, "Then what? You think you won't find someone?"

"I…" the problem was that she may have, but how do you tell that to someone when the person whom she cared for was none other than Minerva McGonagall.

"You did, have." George stated having read it in her eyes. "Is that why you turned Ron down? Or…is that why you feel guilty that you did?"

"I chose not to reconcile with Ron because I don't want to return to the relationship that I was in, it was unhealthy for me and the children. As for…finding someone. Yes, there is someone I believe I could care for as more than a friend, but that was not the reason why I said no to him or Charlie. Actually," she found a semblance of courage to lift her gaze back to George, "Charlie's question helped me to realize that I did care for someone."

"Who is he?"

"When I'm ready to share, you'll be the first one to know."

"Hermione, I told you…"

"Two months after the fact." Hermione countered with a smile curling the tips of her lips.

He shrugged, "Fare enough. But I have to wonder who you've had time to interact with outside of the Hogwarts professors and the Order."

Brown eyes sparkled in response, "Touché."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva glanced up as the distinct sound of another person entered the Great Hall, only to still her face to hide the pang of disappoint at seeing Poppy make her way to the table.

"Are you sure you'll be able to keep each of us to an hour?" Pomona questioned, breaking Minerva's thoughts away from Hermione.

"Quite, as I will be focusing on budgetary aspects only."

"Good morning," Poppy pulled a chair out. "Am I still scheduled for eight-thirty this morning?"

"Yes." Minerva stated as she poured herself another cup of coffee, her third. "Unless you haven't need for any new supplies."

A series of chuckles spread around the table, "Only if you finally take up Helena's advice and ban quidditch."

"You have a greater likelihood of me becoming the Divination instructor while carrying on the headship duties then me banning quidditch."

The chuckles rolled into a rumbling of outright laughter, "Then, yes, I'll need a few moments of your time."

"Well, if you'll only need a few moments, then I believe I shall be able to use your surplus for the quidditch pitch."

Poppy turned to Rolanda, "I should ask that part of your funds be allocated to offset mine as most injuries stem from your department."

"Mine? Since when did the flying instructor and quidditch referee become a department?"

"Do you rebuke that most of the injuries at Hogwarts happen while out on the pitch?"

"I'm sure Clemons and Hermione send their far share." Rolanda retorted, "And perhaps Sybil too if you account for all the rolled ankles from the students who have to climb up that forsaken ladder. Speaking of," she turned to Minerva, "why don't you replace that dreadful thing?"

"It is my way of helping to contribute to Poppy's budget."

"With all of your help, it is no wonder why I have the largest budget."

"Actually, you have the third largest budget. Pomona and Clemons are above yours."

"At least Rolanda's is smaller."

"That's because I allocated part of hers to yours." Minerva quipped.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Jordan, you know I can't."

"At least tell me how long she has."

Helena sighed, "That'll be up to Minerva dear."

"Mom, she's obviously not well otherwise, she wouldn't have held a gala or Christmas dinner at the Manor."

"True, but it is up to her to divulge how she is doing; not me as you well know."

"Has she told Tessa and Perc?"

"They know that her health isn't well."

"But they don't know the extent."

"Jordan," an edge began lacing her words, "let it go."

"At least tell me as much as Tess and Perc know."

"I'll ask Minerva."

Jordan bit back the tears, "I don't understand why you won't tell me or the rest of the family."

Helena felt her own eyes tear up, "She has her reasons love."

"At least tell me that they are good ones, mom." Jordan wiped a tear away, "And not her trying to be a martyr."

"She has been dying since Albus passed," Helena held up her hand to stymie her daughter's interruption, "and while it may not appear as such, she has been getting worse slowly over thirteen years."

"Is there nothing you can do for her?"

Helena tried to smile through the tears, "Honey, I wish there was something I could do; but no," a look of defeat laced crystalline blue eyes, "there is nothing I or anyone can do for her."

Jordan's hand reached out grasping her mother's in a vice grip. "There has to be something…"

Helena closed her eyes, feeling a tear slip down her cheek as she fought to maintain her resolve; desperately _wanting _to tell her daughter about her dearest friend. But she couldn't. "There isn't, love." Helena squeezed her daughter's hand back, and with the last of her willpower blinked open her eyes to meet Jordan's; and gently shook her head, voice cracking as she repeated. "There isn't."

Tears flowed from Jordan's eyes as she stared into veritable pools of blue glass; she had never seen so much emotion emanating from her mother's eyes and it sliced through her heart and soul.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva dipped her quill into the ink pot as she adjusted her glasses with her left hand before the quill was rapidly flowing over the parchment, making new calculations and additions from her meeting with Marx.

"Mistress," Elgin appeared beside the desk with a tea tray hovering beside him. "Are you ready for a fresh pot?"

"Is it chamomile?"

"Cranberry orange with a hint of spice."

Minerva didn't bother to glance up, "That'll be fine."

Elgin traded out the pots along with replacing her tea cup. "Would you like anything else?"

"Perhaps a few ginger newts."

Elgin placed three next to her saucer on a napkin, "You have three more appointments before dinner."

"One during and two following." Minerva remarked as she flowingly added more ink to her quill.

"Perhaps you don't have to work through dinner."

"I'm afraid I need to finish the interviews today so I have time to finalize the report before the start of next week."

"Then I shall bring you dinner during which meeting?"

"This will tide me over for the next bit," Minerva replied as she continued on.

"Very well," Elgin vanished from sight, hoping the remainder of the meetings finished ahead of schedule; fearing that they wouldn't and the Mistress would again not eat.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione shuffled her notes as the Gargoyle lifted her to the Headmistress' office. She had been aggregating her needs for the past week hoping that she hadn't forgotten anything.

Without thought she knocked on the door and waited, her mind mentally recreating what Minerva was doing behind closed doors. Probably sitting behind her desk, frantically transcribing her notes from the previous meeting; glasses perched upon her nose as a few tendrils of hair framed her face.

_Stop the absurdity; _she thought as she shook her head trying to clear it as Minerva's

voice rang outward.

"Come in."

_Right, _Hermione reached forward, _stay strong and keep a clear head_; she opened the door plastering a smile upon her face – which immediately became sincere as her eyes fell upon Minerva. She was indeed sitting behind her desk; quill in hand, a pot of tea resting on the corner next to a cup and saucer, and wisps of hair falling from her traditional bun. "Good evening Minerva, I didn't see you at dinner; did Elgin bring you some?"

"No," Minerva pushed herself upright as she placed her quill in the ink pot. "I've been rather busy."

"How many professors do you have left to meet with after me?"

"Filius." Minerva stated as she reached up and pulled her glasses from her face, "And how are you this evening?"

"Doing well," she drew up a chair to sit beside the desk, "and wishing that you'd take a moment to eat something."

"I had a bite earlier," Minerva leant back and found her muscles easing as she took in Hermione's countenance, "but I appreciate your concern."

"You are sure you aren't hungry?"

"I'm fine." Minerva replied, "Did you want some tea?"

"No, I'm still floating from dinner."

A smile fluttered across her face, "Well then I am happy that I didn't manage to make it to dinner if I were to be floating."

"Please tell me you are going to get something later."

"I am," Minerva assured the younger woman, "but I had a late lunch, and a few ginger newts throughout the afternoon."

Hermione finally breathed a sigh of relief, "Alright."

She nodded to the papers in her hands, "Shall we start?"

"You are really on a tight time frame," Hermione met Minerva's gaze and could see the stress lacing green eyes.

"Exceptionally," Minerva replied, "if I am to spend time with the children tomorrow."

"Conveniently I have written down what I perceive all my needs to be for the remainder of the year." She handed Minerva her papers.

"And what of next year?"

"Next year?" Hermione blinked at Minerva, dumbfounded. "I thought it was just pertaining to this one."

"And a preliminary one for next year too."

"I'm sorry, if I'd had known I'd have started working on it."

"Do you foresee any new expenses compared to this year?"

"No." Hermione stated, "I don't."

Minerva narrowed her eyes as she scanned the papers, "Then you won't need to remain."

"Minerva," Hermione leaned forward, "I thought…"

Her eyes lifted upwards, "I taught transfiguration for over forty years, and with this information I can extrapolate out what the expenses will be."

"I'll be more than happy to finish working out a budget for you; please don't make extra work for yourself."

"It's not extra work," Minerva remarked, "I became quite good at doing it without taking too much time."

She involuntarily glanced towards Albus' portrait and then back, "Did you use to do the budget for Hogwarts before Albus passed?"

"We'd both do half," she replied as she set the papers next to the parchment she had been working on.

Hermione replied without thought, "If it'll help you get done faster, and enable you to spend time with the children tomorrow evening; I'll be glad to help."

"How much experience do you have with logarithmic equations?"

"Far more than I'd like, as I did the entire ministry budget for my division." Hermione expanded her answer, "I can set it up on excel and it might take a little more time this year, but it should help considerably for next year's budget."

"Excel." Minerva repeated, "Is that a type of computer program?"

Hermione stymied her desire to smile at Minerva's response, "A spreadsheet program."

"Yes, and I'll –" she reached for the paperwork she handed Minerva earlier, "enter this for this year and a preliminary one for next year."

Minerva considered Hermione's words, "How long will it take you to enter the numbers along with the formulas?"

"I should have it done by the time you finish your meeting with Filius."

Minerva nodded, "I'll send Godric when Filius leaves, and if you're ready…"

"I'll let you know." Hermione's grip tightened on the paperwork.

Emerald eyes darted to the parchment and back, "You don't have to help."

"Nor do you have to try and do this by yourself." Brown eyes met hers, as a soft smile graced her lips. "Especially after all that happened this year, and all that you have done for me; for everyone Minerva." She reached out and gently grasped Minerva's forearm while standing, "We're in this together, remember."

"You have quite enough you are responsible for."

"And you don't?" Hermione retorted as she stood upright.

"Are you sure?" Doubt lined Minerva's voice.

"As you finish the other areas budgets, send them up with Elgin and I'll create a spreadsheet for each area and feed into a total budgetary worksheet."

"I don't want you working on this the rest of the holiday."

Hermione shook her head, "I won't be." She started walking towards the gargoyle. "I'll show you what I've got done when I bring the children to visit tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you," Minerva called out as Hermione opened the door.

"Don't thank me," she replied over her shoulder, "because you'll want to know how to do this for next year." Hermione paused as the door closed, "Or at least someone will." She whispered to herself, wondering what had possessed her to do _more_ work.

The gargoyle hadn't even started its decent and she already had surmised the answer, it wasn't what rather _who_ had possessed her to do more work. "I've got to put a pin in this." She muttered, shaking her head. "Before I can't."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Here's another snippet and bringing us ever closer to the 'New Year'. As always, hope you enjoyed._


	74. Chapter 71 December 29th, 2009

**Chapter 71 ~ December 29****th****, 2009 (Tuesday)**

Milksy handed the coffee to Hermione, "Have you'se slept?"

Hermione didn't glance up, "Not much." She continued keying in Poppy's budget. "Seems as though my knowledge on excel was a little rusty."

"Excellcy?" Milksy inquired not understanding.

"Excel," Hermione pointed to her laptop, "a program on the computer that does calculations."

Milksy took a few steps closer and leaned forward looking at the white screen with black boxes containing a column of words and then several of numbers. "Is that what is helping the Mistress with the budget?"

"Yes, but I am several versions behind on the new excel program and don't remember all the shortcuts and it took me a while to remember all the formulas and how to pull the information across spreadsheets…" Hermione stopped as Milksy's eyes grew wider, "I'm rambling and the short answer is yes."

"Bonnie will be here within twenty minutes, do you want me to ask her to wait?" Milksy blinked up at Hermione.

She glanced to the parchment she was copying from and quickly estimated out how much longer it would take her to finish the infirmary's budget; "I'll need a break by then."

"I'se not entirely understanding you'se response."

"That'll be fine, Milksy." Hermione elaborated as she reached over and grasped the coffee cup. "And when you have a moment, I'd love another cup." She swallowed half in sip and hardly noticed as Milksy vanished while she frantically began keying in the next cluster of items.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I should ask how ya found your way here." Rory stated as he stepped around the ledge keeping his wand leveled at Aegis as he did. "As it remains within Minerva's property and her secret keeper."

"You know I didn't kill Hagrid, and that the only reason I am here is to impart a message to Minerva." Aegis spread lifted his arms away from his side, showing that his hands were empty.

"How'd ya know who her secret keeper is?"

"Process of elimination and simple deduction," Aegis eyed the bane of a man. "Then again, it was always above your cognitive ability to extrapolate past what was before you."

"Aegis I am in nah mood f'r ya're games this mornin'. Ya best be tellin' me how ya were able to git on her property or ya'll find how generous I can be before the sun reaches your frozen arse."

"I don't know what she sees in you, highlander."

"The feelin' is mutual." He jerked his wand slightly to the left causing Aegis cloak to split open, "Now will ya be tellin' me or do I git ta have my way with ya."

"Minerva wouldn't let you."

"True," he conceded, "but she isna up here."

Aegis quelled his dislike for the man, "Will you promise to relay a message to her?"

"Depends on me mood, as I'm getting' a wee bit cranky with ya f'r not answerin' my first question."

"Strong emotion," Aegis relaxed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. "Any place that holds a tie to a strong emotion cannot be negated by a secret keeper. While I can't talk of it or relay it, doesn't mean I can't conjure the image up from my youth." He pointed to his right, "A patch of lavender used to grow just there." He blinked back the memory of how creamy Minerva's skin was next to the lush green. "That's where Minerva and I first became intimate." He cleared his throat, "Now, stop being a daft prick and promise you'll give her the message."

"Damn you Aegis," Rory grit his teeth and lowered his wand, "if it were for anyone else,

I'd strip your skin and sell it to the Goblins. Human hide fetches a handsome price."

"And I'd rather incinerate your filthy remains than lay eyes upon you again, but it shall have to wait until after this business with Johannes." He neared the other man, "That is of course, if you are domesticate enough that you are _able_ to wait."

"What is the message?"

"He knows where Godric's book lies and he's going to try for it within the week."

"Godric's book?"

"Don't try to understand, merely relay it; she'll know what I'm referring to."

"Can ya naught be a bit less specific? A bloomin' week? That's almost as bad as the Centaurs and their take on the stars."

"And speaking of Centaurs, there will be another assault on them this evening. He's going to go after female Centaurs in the hope they are carrying a young one in utero."

"Finally a bit of information that is worthy."

"Relay the first to Minerva, and learn how to take a shower," The sunlight drifted over the embankment, "I can smell the putrid scent of your cattle on you from here." And in a flash followed by a sharp crack he left Rory staring at the empty prints left by Aegis in the snow.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Jordan paused as the children flew from the grate and rushed up the brass staircase, Minerva's hearty laughter rippling down into her office across Jordan's skin as she followed the steps her two daughters and son had taken only moments ago.

She waited for the children to unhook their arms from around her aunt before she joined them in Minerva's living suite.

"Why don't you put your things in the bedroom?" Minerva stated as she stood and turned to her niece. "Good afternoon Jordan."

They could both hear the three children saying hello and greeting Tessa's who were already putting their things up as Jordan swept forward, "How are you doing?" and quickly embraced her aunt.

"Well, thank you." Minerva pulled away, "Helena sent an owl last evening, and we'll talk tomorrow after the children leave."

Blue eyes swept over Minerva's countenance, "It's as bad as mother said?" Her words a cross between a statement and question.

"Tomorrow, dear." Minerva replied with a tender smile and placed her hand upon her upper arm. "We'll talk then."

Jordan gave a solitary nod to her aunt, fighting back tears. "Tomorrow."

"No tears," Minerva patted her niece's shoulder, "and enjoy your evening with Matthew."

"Love you." Jordan feigned a smile and swept down the stairs.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"The answer's still no." George stated without hesitation.

"What is with you?" Charlie quipped, "I'm your brother."

George met his gaze, and with his easy manner shrugged; "All the more reason _not_ to tell you."

"Unless it's Hermione, what's the big deal?"

"Let's set something straight here and now, it _isn't_ Hermione; but you had better get it through your head she is not going to date you."

"Whoa," Charlie leaned forward, "careful there George, don't be stepping where you aren't welcome."

"She's one of my best mates Charlie, and I'm not the one stepping where I'm not welcome. You are."

"She is merely trying to portray her lack of interest because of Ron."

George shook his head, "No, she genuinely isn't interested in you."

"Because she still cares about Ron?"

"He tried to reconcile with her this past week, and she said no to him too."

"Well, given enough time; I think she'll come around."

"No, Charlie. She's interested in someone, and it isn't you." At his shocked look, he continued on. "Nor Ron and before you ask, no I don't know who."

It took Charlie a full second to find any words, "You're sure?"

"I had breakfast with her yesterday, so ya I'm pretty sure."

Charlie stepped back running a hand through his hair, "Damn." He muttered, "If she felt that way before the other evening, I made a complete ass of myself."

George chuckled, "I doubt it'll be the last time."

"Hey," Charlie stepped far enough forward to shove his brother, "and what's going on with you?"

"Let it ride a few more weeks and ask me then."

Charlie narrowed his eyes, "Only because you're helping me from continuing to make an ass out myself."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hugo darted out of the lift like a bolt towards his Aunt, "We's here!"

With barely any perceived strain Minerva picked him up into her arms, "Hello my little lad."

Hugo leaned forward and slopped a kiss on her cheek, "I missed you."

"And I you," she whispered as she turned to see Rose drop her bag and she scrambled forward.

"Aunt Minerva!"

Minerva bent down and hugged Rose, "And how is my bonnie lass?"

Rose gripped her aunt and breathed in the familiar and welcoming smell, "Better." She whispered, hoping that her aunt wouldn't understand.

"Well," Minerva leaned back, "everyone else is through that," she pointed to a room magically appearing beside where they had stepped from the gargoyle, "room. Why don't you both take your bag in there and I'll be right in?"

Rose paused, "You are coming aren't you Aunt Minerva?"

"In a few minutes, I'll be along." Minerva reassured Rose who tentatively glanced back to her two more times before grabbing her bag and moving that direction; Hugo was already standing by the door waiting on her.

"And Hermione, how are you this afternoon?" Minerva questioned the younger woman, curious as to why she had barely moved from the edge of lift.

"It seems I haven't spent much time working with Excel as I thought I had and running a bit behind." Hermione answered watching as her daughter and son finally entered the bedroom; a whirl of noise could be momentarily heard until the door latched and they were bathed in silence.

"If you wish to cease working on the budget, please feel free to do so; and not feel obligated to continue."

"I don't, I just need a little more time and was hoping to finish a preliminary format by this evening."

"Hermione, please don't feel as though you have to help me."

"I'd already be done if I had the older version of the program, and if I didn't _want_ to help I wouldn't be."

The door cracked open and Kat peeked her head out from behind the door, "Nana – do you think Elgin can bring a snack?"

"Yes, I'll ask him to bring something up." Minerva answered and Kat instantly vanished behind the door again, and Minerva turned back to Hermione. "If you get done this evening, feel free to stop by." Minerva took a half step towards the child filled room, "That is if you feel like being around children."

Hermione couldn't help the twinkle from emanating out from her eyes at the thought of being able to watch Minerva engage with the children. It was like watching her weave a magical spell that left the recipient filled with warmth from the depths of their soul. "I'll bring you what I have following dinner in the Great Hall."

"Great," Minerva opened the door, "see you then."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"No, Harold it'll be a little closer to eight this evening."

Harold's gaze flickered past her to see that she alone in her office, "Do I need to ask Duncan and Maura to come later?"

"I'll be home by the time they arrive."

"You're sure?" He asked, gaze having returned to hers.

Helena glanced to her desk and back, "Quite, though I may have to come in a wee early in the morning."

"As if seven isn't early enough." Harold muttered.

"You realize I heard you."

"And you are aware of my feelings regarding the topic."

Despite feeling his agitation, a smile pulled at her lips as she retorted. "Acutely. However," she continued on with a soft voice that remained between them, not able to see anyone else in his office; but knowing from past experience that it didn't mean he was necessarily alone. "You are also aware that I am putting measures in place to begin working less which means you may want to start thinking about that too. As I'm not the only one who spends a great deal of time working."

"Remember, I only called to see if you'd be home to greet Duncan and Maura."

"Well then let me get back to work so I can be."

"I'll see you shortly love."

Helena didn't bother with a response as Harold ended the fire call instantly, and she returned to her desk mentally sorting through what could wait till tomorrow morning as she picked up the request from aide by the Goblin High Council.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione carefully peeked her head around the door that the children had been in before to find it like the living room had been, empty. She stepped back into the living room; eyes quickly scanning across the half dozen doors. She couldn't very well go looking through each door, but she found herself striding forward to one door in particular hoping that the entire group was in there – Minerva's bedroom.

Raising her hand, she knocked lightly and opened the door to find it empty too. Frowning, she turned back to the living room but stopped at hearing the faintest whispers of noise stemming from the depths of her room, _the bathroom _she thought drawn forward towards the sound.

Her feet innately carried her to the bathroom door that she had used previously, and with great care she opened it; children's laughter and sounds of splashing immediately washed over her.

_The tub, _Hermione peered around the lavender column to see her son dart past the opening and jump into the water; causing a splash to exude outward. Part of her _wanted_ to walk forward; see the children enjoying their time with Minerva and see Minerva interacting with the children, all the children.

But she stopped herself.

The last thing she should be doing is intruding; no matter how much she wanted to. Truthfully, though, that was the problem. She _wanted_ to see Minerva.

Shaking her head at her recent desire to spend time with and see Minerva; she took a step back and forced herself to turn around. Her eyes scanned across the bathroom, seeing a smattering of children's clothes lying across Minerva's vanity and despite herself she felt a smile tug on her lips.

"Leaving?" Minerva's voice startling her as she turned back around to feel her heart stop. "Or arriving?"

On some level, she should have realized that Minerva wouldn't have her formal robes on; that she would be wearing something that would be appropriate to get wet in, like a bathing suit. But knowing that on some level and factoring it in on another was not something she had done. Why would she have? Why would it have mattered?

Except, she should have and it did – matter.

Especially as her eyes landed on Minerva; she was wearing a one piece blue-green suit, with a towel wrapped around her waist, the soft light reflected off her damp milky skin and dripped off her thick black braid resting on her shoulder. It was apparent that Minerva had stayed in shape, her arms were toned, slim waist line and it was with difficulty that she kept her eyes focused on Minerva's and not the way droplets of water ran down her shoulder and disappeared into the dark line of her suit's fabric. "Leaving." Hermione answered, "I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding," Minerva stated, motioning for Hermione to join her down the hall; glad she had noticed the slight fragrance. "Join us." At seeing a flicker of hesitation, Minerva continued on. "It'll be fun."

Hermione knew she shouldn't, but the warmth and welcoming smile gracing Minerva's face found her answering affirmatively. "For a little while."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rose turned to Minerva, "Again!" she proclaimed, fingers along the edge of the pool.

"Yeah!" Hugo splashed, "again!"

"Please Nana!"

"Yeah, Nana; again!"

Minerva's brow quirked, as she gazed at the cluster of children swarming along the edge where Rose had been by herself only moments prior. "You are sure that you are not too tired?"

A chorus of no's reverberated off the water and walls and with a simple flick of her wrist and wave of her wand; she felt a strong pull upon her magic and the joints along her fingers tighten as a yellow spell spilled forward morphing the children's legs into that of a tail fin.

"Wow!" Rose stated and lunged into the water; loving the ability to go incredibly fast as the other children followed and they began playing their game again.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"No, no." Hugo rubbed his eyes, "I wanna lay with you."

"My little lad, my room is right across the living room." Minerva whispered to Hugo as she knelt down next to him in front of the doorway where the other children were.

Hugo glanced to his mother then to his Aunt, his hand flipping across the hem of her bathing suit strap; "Pleeze?"

"You'll be fine." She whispered, kissing his cheek; "And I'll check on you in a little while to make sure."

Blue eyes blinked up at her, "You'se promises?"

"Yes." Minerva's lilt catching as she continued on. "I promise."

Hugo instantly wrapped his right arm around her neck, feeling her wet hair brush his forehead as he buried his head into her shoulder. "Okay."

"Now off you go," Minerva waved open the door, ignoring the way her hand grew stiffer, "my little lad."

His lips quirked into a smile and with a sloppy kiss on her cheek, his little legs carried him into the room to join his sister and new friends.

Minerva stood after a second to see Hermione standing, "I was hoping to entice you into a game of chess."

"I would have thought you were tired of playing games after this evening and the children."

"Children's games, yes." Minerva retorted, moving towards her room, "An adult conversation and quiet game of chess, no."

"Can you give me a half hour to shower and change? And when I return I'll bring the budgetary spreadsheet too."

Minerva squelched the desire to inform Hermione that her comment was nonsense and she was welcome to use her shower. She needed to maintain the distance, "Of course. Would you like a bit of tea this evening?"

"Perhaps a cup of cocoa."

"Very well." Minerva replied and veered towards the back of her living room, summoning the inner doorway, and opening it for Hermione. "It'll remain open for you to use to return."

"Thank you." Hermione stated as she walked past her, and a half step into the hallway she wanted to pause, to turn around to do anything other than walk forward; but that is exactly what she did. "I'll see you shortly." She called out, stilling her heartbeat as she moved up the secret passageway to her room.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva unfastened her robe, and banished it to her wardrobe. "Yes Albus?"

"Have you had a good time with the children?"

"Very much," Minerva removed her chemise and felt her husband's desire pulse, as she laid it upon the bed and a silken shift materialized on the comforter. "They enjoyed the pool."

"As did you," he commented.

She could feel her breasts tighten as the desire within her strengthened and she reached and slipped on her nightshift. "The children were…"

"I was referring to Hermione."

Minerva adjusted the silken material before returning Albus' gaze, "It was a pleasant visit." She could feel him tamp down the notion of retorting, and was appreciative as he was trying not to argue over her. "She assisted in readying the children for bed, and we played a game of chess after she spent twenty minutes going over the budget spreadsheet." Reaching up she unfastened the end of her braid and began unwinding it. "The program excel is rather fascinating and will be very assistive to Filius or the next headship in completing the following year's budget."

"Then you are done with the budget?"

"Far closer than I had imagined possible by this time yesterday. At this juncture there are only two areas, muggle studies and arthimancy, that are to be entered and then it'll be reviewing the final numbers and making any last minute changes."

"How many hours did Hermione work on it? Was it equal to the amount in preparing or more?"

"The initial set up time takes more time, but the construct is there at this point so next budget year the numbers merely have to be dropped in. It shan't take but a day perhaps two for the whole of the budget."

"Sounds rather phenomenal."

"It is," she went to walk towards her bathroom when a light rattle caught her attention stemming from her main door.

"One of the children?"

"Probably Cal, love. I'll see you in the morning." She stated and his visage vanished as she waved open the door to see ginger hair, blurry blue eyes and a matching blue rabbit clutched in his fingers and as it's little tail had obviously been drug across the floor.

"Can I stay?" he asked already traipsing in as he wiped at his eyes.

"You wish to stay here versus in the room with the other children?" Minerva asked not worrying about grabbing her robe as she knelt in front of the young boy.

"With yous," he replied stretching out his arms.

Minerva embraced the boy and easily stood with him nestled along her waist, "You do realize that it will be just as safe staying with your sister and the grandchildren."

"Why yous call the oter kids grankids?" Hugo asked tipping his head to the side as he stared at her. "They is mes age and Rosie's too."

"Because the other children are my grandchildren sweetheart, remember I have children who are old enough to have children of their own."

His tiny face scrunched up and lips pursed as he thought, "But…if yous have grandkids that is my age then," clear blue eyes landed upon hers, "can you still be…my aunt?"

"Of course lad." Minerva shifted his weight and pulled down the covers on her side of the bed. "Do you need to use the loo?"

"Yes pleeze."

Minerva opened the door, "Straight back."

"The gween side?" he questioned gazing down the length and width of the bathroom as Minerva set him down.

"Yes, but please leave your toy here."

Hugo glanced to his toy then to her, "Okay." He handed it to her and then padded his way down the small hall.

Minerva placed his stuffed toy on the pillow before following him, and helping him 'hit the mark' so to speak. He stepped around the small wall and waited for her to use the bathroom, chattering on about what he and his sister did at their dad's. How they went to the quidditch game and their father let them use two pairs of omnoculars the whole time.

"And at halfed time, I gots to have a big ice cream."

Minerva turned the water on in the vanity, and conjured a small set of stairs for him to walk up to the sink. "What flavor?"

"Banilla," he glanced around the sink, "where is the suds?"

"Soap." Minerva handed him the bar from the far side. "Don't forget to wet your hands first." He jabbed his hands under the water and then they both swirled the bar between their fingers. "Great job, now wash."

He turned to her, "You toos."

"Alright, now we just need to dry them off." She handed him a matching colored towel.

"You weally like gween." Hugo stated handing the towel back to her. "Why?"

"It reminds me of my youth."

"Whats dat mean?" He clambered down the small set of stairs.

"When you think of Rose, what color do you think of?"

"Her bwown eyes and hair." Hugo stopped at the entrance of the bedroom, "Is yous likes gween because of yous had a sista like me?"

"Rather a brother, like you are to Rose."

Blue eyes blinked, "I would miss Rosie."

Minerva bent over, and snatched back into her arms. "Well," her voice becoming thick, "we'll just have to make sure nothing happens to either you or her, as I am sure she'd miss you too."

"Promises?" teary eyes stared at each other.

"I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe."

"And mums too?"

Minerva felt her heart catch as she stared at the young boy's open eyes, so trusting and so full of love. "And your mother too."

"I know yous will," Hugo kissed her cheek and hugged her gently around the neck. "Yous always is keeps yours promises."

"I try." Minerva whispered into his ginger hair before setting him on the edge of the bed. "Now in you go."

Hugo looked up at her and paused, "Where is yous going?"

"To check on everyone else," Minerva grabbed her robe, "I'll be back in a minute."

Hugo needed nodded, "Okay." He grabbed his blue bunny and laid down in the middle of the covers as she tied her robe about her, and opened the door. His words lost to even her excellent hearing as he yawned and burrowed deeper into the comforting scent. Knowing instinctively that he'd be safe, and perhaps the only place safer would be with his mum. "Night, màthair."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Yet again, another day closer to the end of the year :) As always, hope you enjoyed & keep your fingers crossed that there will be second update this week to correspond with this story's anniversary date. _


	75. Chapter 72 December 30th, 2009

**Chapter 72 ~ December 30****th****, 2009 (Wednesday)**

"Thank you Elgin." Minerva stated taking the morning report as the children took turns on Cal's mini-broom between the bedroom and living room. "Anything of note?"

"Not with Hogwarts Mistress." He handed another letter to Minerva, "Master Rory gave this to Bonnie only moments ago asking that you receive this immediately."

"Did he indicate what the problem was?" Minerva frowned and quickly donned her glasses and slit Rory's seal.

"No." Elgin simply replied.

_Minerva,_

_ Aegis came upon the property yesterday and asked that I relay a message. Johannes knows where Godric's book lies and he's going to try for it within the week. Dare I ask where it is and the relevance? _

_ Additionally, they are beginning to assault the Centaurs; he is going after females whom he believes to be carrying a young one in utero._

_My apologies for just now getting this to you, but Aegis stated that Johannes was mounting an attack last eve and I went to warn the Centaurs. I was there when they were attacked; they lost another twenty-two last eve. Tenien has asked the women who know they are carrying young ones to move onto the property and also have asked that they not mate until this dreaded affair has come to an end._

_ Four wizards and a witch were killed. The Centaurs are crying for human blood, the mood in the forest grows dire. Ensure you relay to the Professors not to set foot into the forest without your blessing and emblem or I fear they will not return._

_ Also, you should know Tenien found two unicorns slain upon the southwestern border and tracks of a young foul perhaps days old. Interspersed were human tracks and then the foal's tracks vanish and only the human ones remain._

_ If you have need, call Bonnie. I will be resting this morning._

_ Rory_

Minerva felt as if the levity and overall joyful spirit from the holidays had been sapped upon reading Rory's note. _Damn,_ she thought as she tried to keep the weight of the letter hidden from the children and peeled her glasses off her face. "It seems the children's visit will have to be cut short this morning. I'll need you to deliver a message to Tessa and Jordan that something has come up and that I have business that needs tending shortly after nine."

Elgin's shoulder sank, knowing that her daughter would infer it dealt with Hogwarts but from the trepidation lacing emerald eyes he knew Johannes had again appeared. "At once."

Minerva watched as he vanished and she immediately called Tily who appeared instantly. "Mistress?"

"Unfortunately breakfast will be earlier than I had planned."

"I'll begin it at once."

Minerva gave a nod, her gaze fluttering to the carved clock slowly ticking the seconds away. It would be a little over three hours until she could begin to respond, as it was just after six.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena could feel his growing desire and instinctively moaned as he kissed the back of her neck along her hairline, "I thought you wanted to leave early."

"I did," Harold rumbled, "but I felt this burning need thrumming through me." He slid his right hand down her arm and left one to cusp her breast. "And thought it best to alleviate what would only be a mounting problem."

"Mounting…cute." She quipped as he continued stroking her breast and nuzzling her jaw and neck as she tipped her head to grant him better access.

"Speaking of mounting," Harold pressed himself along her backside and she innately pushed into the swell of his manhood causing his moan to rumble along her skin.

She reached behind her and gripped his hip, "While not preferable, I don't want to wait…" She rasped feeling her center throb in time with the pounding desire threading through her. "Merlin I need you this morning, love."

"As I do you," he waved down the front of his robes and the back of hers, his swollen flesh barely freed of its confines and first sweet scent of her arousal tickling his nose and he pressed himself into her back again.

"You are so warm and hard." Helena moved against his length.

"Ahh, my love; so wet…" Harold buried his nose in her hair as his lips suckled her flesh as she rocked backwards and then forwards; moistening his shaft with her juices as they tried to decelerate the wanton need filling them this morning if only for a moment more.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Breakfast!" The children chorused as they scrambled forward.

"Stop," Minerva's voice cutting across the chaos of morning. "What must you do before eating?" She questioned brow quirked.

"We have to wash our hands." Samantha immediately responded, "Come on." She steered the cluster of other children to the washroom.

Hugo paused and glanced at Minerva and the spread of food and then back, "Is there anys banas?"

"Bananas." Minerva correctly pronounced. "You try."

"Banas." Hugo stated.

"Repeat with me lad," she knelt down, "Ban…an…as." They said together and she nodded. "One more time. Ban…an…as. And yes, there are. Now go wash up."

"'Kay." He pounced towards the open door, glancing back over his shoulder; grin becoming wider before disappearing into the washroom, asking one of his new 'cousins' for help.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena smiled at Jayne as she entered her outer office, "And how are you this morning?"

"Well and preparing for tomorrow evening. Do you and Harold have plans?"

"We may visit Katherine McDore."

"And how has she been? I heard she danced beautifully at the gala."

"Doing well," Helena turned and didn't bother to stop the slight frown from forming on her lips as Casper strode into the room. "And not having to deal with the Ministry in the same fashion."

"How I did miss your charming wit since last evening." Casper quipped and nodded to Jayne. "Good morning."

"And to you." Jayne readily replied.

"Has Michael, McShea, Devon or any members of the critical division arrived as of yet this morning?"

"No, Willis flooed up and stated that the entire division had to come in last night due to that fire in Sussex." Jayne narrowed her eyes, "You didn't read the Prophet this morning?"

Helena kept the blush from her face, "I only had time to read the front page. Was the incident bad?"

"Twelve injured and one death, but Willis said they didn't believe the death was related to the fire."

"Very well." She nodded to her pile, "Anything in there of import?"

"The Goblins responded and Michael sent up a note last evening regarding Lockhart."

"Let Willis know I'll do the critical care patients this morning. And I'll take those and read them between patients; everything else can wait until I return." She turned to Casper, "I don't suppose I can coerce you to remain with Jayne while I conduct rounds."

"As pleasant as that sounds," he adjusted his stance, "no. I'm afraid I wouldn't have long left in this world if I did not walk with you and your husband or Gawain were to find out."

Helena took the papers and glanced him over, "Well then grab a white robe and despite your inclination as we move from room to room, don't say a word. The patients were are going to see are on the cusp of life and the last thing they need to hear is your shock or any other condemning words or noises for that matter." Blue eyes blazed at the younger green eyed man, "Understood?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harold appeared next to Malfoy Manor, eyes scanning against the brisk air and starlight until he could see a blackness against the sparkling white. Quietly he moved towards his men, floating across the top of the snow – careful not to lose his concentration lest he leave tracks and make noise as to step in the snow at this juncture meant to make an audible crunch that would reverberate on a night like this one.

Seconds passed into minutes as he stealthily crossed the moors, two separate occasions he almost lost his footing upon the iced covered stone; but with a muttered curse and bruised knee he finally arrived at his destination.

"There is little to report."

"You have seen nothing?"

"Only Lucius and Narcissa have come and gone since Christmas evening."

"What of the floo?"

"Victoria has had problems tracing how often its firing and who is within. We know that on two occasions it has been someone other than the Malfoys but we haven't been able to ascertain how they are circumventing the system."

"And what of the back gate?"

"Dixon sent word that it remains locked and no activity has stirred." Nigel leaned forward, words barely leaving his lips; "You are sure Harkiss is here?"

"No." Harold honestly replied, "But, he has visited in the past. And no, you will not get my source; just know that it is solid."

Nigel nodded, "Very well." Blue eyes returned to gazing upon the impressive estate and pulling his cloak closer about him hoping to stave off an ounce of cold.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione stretched and sluggishly turned over, blinking herself awake. It was already after seven, she had slept in. _Wow,_ she mused surprised it was as late as it was_, must have needed it._

With little effort, her robe jumped into her hand as she stood and made her way to her living room. The fire had already been stoked and her heart warmed at how much the house elves enriched their lives by helping doing so many of the small details. She still wanted to see all of the house elves freed and working for a wage or compensation if they chose to work; and upon returning to the Ministry following this year, she was intent on continuing to ensure equal rights to all magical creatures. It became apparent after her venture this past October how the relations were with the Centaurs and she was sure as Harkiss continued to hunt their younglings, it would only get worse.

"Hermione," Milksy appeared next to her, "Miss Bonnie wants to know if you are ready for her."

Hermione wiped at her face, "Can you ask her to hold until I have a cup of coffee?"

"I'se do not knows if she's …"

"Have some here." Bonnie interjected as she stretched out a tray to the witch. "I only have a small window of time this morning."

"I haven't even had a shower." Hermione rebuked.

_"Is that a no?" _Bonnie retorted.

"Just," Hermione grasped the cup of coffee and started to her room, "I need a minute."

_"Gaelic only."_

_ "One minute." _Hermione disappeared into the loo and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "What am I doing anyway?" She muttered, "Learning Gaelic? For what end?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Helena strode through the exit door, making notes in the chart as she did and summoning the stationed nurse. "He is going to need another sedation drip and two blood replenishing potions within the hour."

"I'll call it up, Healer Harrison." The nurse stated as she took the chart from the Administrator.

Helena scanned the Goblin Council's note as she unconsciously walked to the next room.

_Helena,_

_ Due to your unique relationship for the last four decades, and our dire need; the Council has consented to you and only your entry to Chrix._

_ This evening at 6pm Griphook will contact you and give you a portkey that will enable you transport. The key activates at 6:10pm._

_ Tiral_

_ Administrator of Chrix_

* * *

_oxox_

* * *

Harold unfastened his cloak as he took the elevator to the Department of Mysteries, glad to be back indoors.

Nigel's report did little to alley his concerns regarding what was occurring at Malfoy Manor. He knew it was difficult for his division to penetrate blood wards, but the utter invisibility that seemed to exist around the old properties were frustrating.

He'd need to speak with Minerva this evening and see if there were any clues that she could divulge that would assist in uncovering what was occurring on the property.

However, he had his doubts on whether she'd comply. That was one aspect of their relationship that she remained extremely reticent on.

"Hello Harold…"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena paused outside the next room as she scanned a chart.

"How do you do this every day?" Casper whispered facing away from the room.

"I don't anymore." Helena flipped to the next page, "Though, we rotate the healers and nurses off the critical division every six months."

"Six months on and then off?"

"Six months on and twelve off." Helena glanced up, blue eyes looking over the golden rim of her glasses; "Or the burn out rate is astronomical from not only the psychological strain but the physical one too."

"What was your favorite aspect of the job when you were treating patients every day?"

"Reuniting families." Helena state as she reached up and pulled her glasses from her face and stepped forward, "Georgina, I'm Helena and was hoping to speak with you for a few minutes and make sure you are doing alright until your primary healer has a chance to see you this morning."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold scanned the cluster of messages, including three from Arthur and five from Gawain. He sent Arthur a note stating that he'd see him after speaking with Gawain regarding their dual deployment on Malfoy Manor.

Grabbing his coffee cup, he ventured through his department nodding at the handful of wizards and witches who had already arrived this morning or engaging in brief small talk until he entered the elevator and pressed the desired button.

The doors closed as he felt a rush of sadness and quelled his own reaction; instinctively he knew Helena was doing rounds by the way her emotions were fluctuating so much. He didn't know what had happened to the patient she was seeing, but from the depths of her desolate feeling he knew the odds of the patient's survival was miniscule.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"You'll need to pack your bags." Minerva called out. "I am going to have to take you all home a little early this morning."

"Ahhh….Nana." Kat ran forward, "But we wanted to spend the whole day with you."

"And I with all of you, however, I have a meeting that I cannot move this morning."

"Do you mind if I remain in Gryffindor Tower for the last few days of vacation?" Samantha asked.

"Do you require anything from home or did you leave it here while on holiday?"

"It's here or in my bag." Samantha stated.

"I'll send word to Professor Granger to let her know that you will be added to the roles."

"Thanks Nana."

Rose's eyes sparkled, "You mean you'll be here for a few days without everyone?"

Samantha turned to Rose, "Yeah with the other students in the Tower."

Rose turned to her Aunt, "Can she come over?"

Minerva immediately knew what Rose was referring to, "Rose wishes to know if you would be willing to stop by Professor Granger's one evening and visit."

Shock spread across Samantha's face, "You mean she's at the castle?"

"Till the start of term unless her mother has plans for Rose and Hugo to go to their grandparents' or father's."

Rose shook her head, "Nope. She said that we were staying through the weekend."

"Then yes," Samantha replied, "if Professor Granger doesn't mind."

"Mum won't mind." Rose assured her new 'friend'.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena took a deep breath after leaving the room and gave Casper a moment who had his hand clasped over his mouth and was as white as a fresh sheet of snow. "I never put much thought into what happened after our division sent them to St. Mungos."

Helena patted the young man's shoulder, "You are seeing the patients who need a healer to check on them at a minimum of every two hours. This is not the standard."

"I know, it's just…hard."

"Take a minute and pull yourself together." Helena slipped on her glasses and glanced at her note from Michael, "We still have one more to visit this morning."

_Helena,_

_ Gilderoy is still not responding to the treatment. I asked Mildred to pull his chart from the initial entry 17 years ago, and prior to him missing; comparing them to now. There are several variations in the blood markers that you'll want to look at most notably liver enzymes._

_ Michael_

Helena lifted her gaze and saw that Casper's breathing had returned to normal, "It seems we have two stops, not one before heading back to my office. But only one more critical patient, alright?"

"Is that a hint of kindness I'm hearing?"

"Don't get used to it." Helena retorted as they strode forward.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold joined Gawain in the break room, enabling them both to get a cup of coffee and speak as a silencing spell stretched between them.

"And you don't think Minerva will assist?"

"To do so would be to divulge information that could alter Hogwarts' safety and she will not do anything to compromise Hogwarts."

Gawain met his long time friend's gaze, "Nor her own home."

"Doubtful, but far more likely than her compromising Hogwarts."

"What if we just bring Lucius in?"

"He hasn't done anything and I don't think he is as involved as you believe."

"Then why are we watching his Manor?"

"Because Harkiss has used the Manor for meetings."

"Do you know where he is staying? Or any other pertinent information that you can share?"

"Andre Aegis is involved."

Gawain blanched, "Do you think Harkiss is staying at his home?"

"If you could put a rotation on his home as my resources are stretched incredibly thin."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva had the children grab a handful of floo powder, "Be clear and I'll be along in a moment to speak with Tessa."

The two older children, Katherine and Douglass, did as they were told, the other two, Callum and Allison, waited beside their Nana as she turned to Rose and Hugo's mum.

"Read this," Minerva handed Hermione the note Rory had written her. "And I will speak with you when I return to Hogwarts."

Hermione met Minerva's gaze and felt her blood still in her veins, immediately realizing that whatever was contained within was the reason why Minerva was sending the children home early. "Half hour?"

Minerva gave an imperceptible nod, and turned back to Cal and Ally. "Ready?"

They both nodded and Minerva's hand sunk into the floo powder as Hermione picked up her son, "Did you have fun?"

"Yup!" He spun around to look at his aunt, "Can we's do it again?"

"We'll see." Minerva replied and met Hermione's gaze once more. "The door upstairs is open for you to use to return to your room."

Hermione nodded, "Thank you."

Minerva bit back any further remarks and with barely a snap, the flames changed color and Rose, Hugo and Hermione watched Minerva along with Cal and Ally vanish in a blink.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena stopped at the desk and took the chart skimming the last several days' entries as she approached the door to Lockhart's room. She paused at the edge of the door and turned to Casper, "Ever meet Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"Can't say that I've had the pleasure."

"Lucky you." Helena murmured, "I wish I could say the same."

"That bad?" He questioned as she placed her hand on the door handle.

"Worse." She replied and with every reserve she had, she plastered a smile on her face and entered the room. "Gilderoy," Helena's voice holding an unusual jubilance as she shook his hand.

"Helena Harrison," golden locks fell across his face, "What a pleasure, a pleasure." He turned to the other man, "And you are? Her assistant? Clerk?"

"Aide." Helena answered, "His name is Casper."

"Casper," Gilderoy took his hand, "you seem rather piquish for a healer but maybe it's the white robe. Dreadful color for a robe, blanching out the skin and shows every stain."

"Yeah," Casper looked to Helena who seemed to be trying not to laugh, but thankfully chose that moment to speak and distract the gregarious man.

"Gilderoy, I was hoping to speak with you for a moment about how little sleep you've been getting."

At once Gilderoy turned to Helena, "It has been rather tedious to only get an hour, perhaps two. Can't say it's helped my complexion; the circles beneath my eyes will be dreadful if the Prophet elects to do an article on me."

"Have you had any new symptoms develop since Michael increased the sleeping agent?"

He seemed to ponder it a moment and shook his head. "No, not that I am aware of." And by doing so seemed to become slightly off balance, Casper reaching outwards to steady him.

"Has that been happening a lot?"

Gilderoy clutched at Casper's robes, "No." He went to right himself, a smile curling his lips as his fingers found what he was looking for.

A wand.

A barely muttered spell struck Casper in the chest and he fell too.

"Casper. Gilderoy." She moved towards them and felt her heart sink as Gilderoy rolled over and a wand could be seen gripped in his fingers.

Her anxiety spiked as her own wand flew from her sleeve into her fingers as she deflected his spell. And a second one.

The problem wasn't the spell she saw him cast, but the one she didn't. It wasn't until she saw an object jolt towards her from behind using her peripheral vision that she jerked around – too late. A large heavy glass jar impacted the side of her head and she felt her knees impact the floor as her eyes blurred and Gilderoy's image warbled; hand instantly coming to rest upon her head as her body fell to the floor with a thud and she could hear her breath gush from her lungs.

"…arold." She murmured as her eyes fluttered close and she tried to push herself back, away from where she knew Gilderoy was while staving off becoming unconscious.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She heard him approaching her and she raised her arm, "Reducto." She spouted blindly as a wave of energy lifted the haze as their bond pulsed.

"You almost hit me you bitch." Came a raging response as she blinked open her eyes only to see the jar sailing an inch from her face and then blackness enveloped her as it slammed into her, again.

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"No, fifty-second."

"Congratulations." Harold genuinely stated, "So what's the problem?"

"I don't know what to get her." Gawain admitted, "We celebrated by going to New Zealand for three weeks for our fiftieth anniversary; and last year we chose to remain in Britain as our third grandchild was born."

"Then do something romantic and incorporate a small trip to the Mediterranean. You are welcome to use our cottage in Monaco."

"Romantic?," Gawain rolled his eyes. "Romance in our marriage was over twenty years ago."

"What?"

"Don't tell me you and Helena still have _that _much romance between you."

"In comparison," Harold drew to a stop and frowned at Gawain as he finished, "we're like newlyweds."

Gawain choked, "You've got to be kidding me." His shock at Harold's comment dissipated at the strange expression fluttering across Harold's face. "You alright?"

Blue eyes snapped up to Gawain as anxiety replaced trepidation and worry. "We need to go, Helena…" He started to break into a dead run, Gawain's footsteps joining his as their coffee cups clattered against the marble hall coffee and glass splattering outward.

Their robes billowing behind them as the two department heads flew up the corridor, Harold two perhaps three strides ahead of Gawain until Harold felt as if he had just been clubbed in the side of his head. He stumbled, falling downward and landing on his knees as he clutched at his head.

"Harold!"

He could hear Gawain's voice, and then feel and vaguely hear Helena's heartfelt pleading voice asking for him. "…elena." He ground out as tears spilled down his cheeks as he took in her pain and sent her his strength.

"Harold where is she?"

With grinding teeth, and voice breaking in pain. "Mungos, Merlin…help her Gawain."

"Do you know where in Mungos?"

"Rounds." He gasped and felt another blow to the head, falling to the floor as he tried to breathe.

Gawain felt as if the world was collapsing as he knelt by his friend to ensure that he was indeed alive and that finding Helena wouldn't be solely about finding a body. He felt a measure of relief as Harold took in another ragged breath. "Don't die on me."

"Portraits." Harold murmured and reached out gripping his friend's arm.

Gawain glanced up to the two portraits at the far end of the hall, and back to Harold. "Portraits, what about them?"

"Relay to…Minerva."

Gawain let go of Harold's arm and ran to stand in front of Martin Miltz's portrait, "Can you get word to Hogwarts?"

Miltz didn't bat an eye and within two seconds, Everard was standing there. "What is the problem?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione grabbed the children's bag next to the door that led to the room they had stayed in as Rose opened the inner passageway door. "Go ahead," Hermione stated to her daughter, and Hugo pounced after his sister, blue rabbit in tow.

While she couldn't hear what they were saying, she could determine that they were quickly progressing towards their rooms as their voices faded away. She took a moment to sling the bag onto her shoulder and went to withdraw the note Minerva had given her only a few minutes ago; when a commotion sounded from her office followed by a flurry of muttered voices. Hermione turned back, curious and upon stepping onto the landing Godric immediately called her drawing the entire galleries attention.

"Hermione, there has been an incident."

"Is Minerva…"

"We are trying to inform her via Albus or Elgin," Everard interjected as she hurriedly lunged off the last step, "Helena has been attacked and severely injured at St. Mungos."

She was already pulling her wand free as the children's knapsack fell forgotten to the floor, "Do you know where?"

All eyes went to Dilys' portrait, it was evident they were endeavoring to find out as Everard continued speaking. "She was conducting rounds this morning."

Hermione was withdrawing her hand from the floo powder, "Anything else?"

"She suffered a head wound and is unconscious."

His statement stopped her mid-stream and she stared at the elder portrait, blinking as her mind grappled with the news and tried to piece the information together as to how they would know so much and still not know where. And it crystallized; _Harold and Helena were bound that's how Everard would know so many details_. "Is Harold still conscious?"

"He's making his way to the floo networks."

"Please have one of the elves take care of my children." She stated as she strode forward two steps and flung floo powder into the grate, "St. Mungos." Her voice rang out and the flames became green and as the world dissolved around her she clearly heard Dilys' voice over the roar of the floo; "Critical Care." and three seconds later, Hermione was stepping out onto the pearly white foray with dozens of others.

She ran forward, wand out and yelling at the information/checkpoint desk as she approached. "Where's Critical Care?"

A lemon garbed middle-aged woman remained sitting as she barreled towards them, "I'm afraid you'll need to sign over your wand." She stated in an irritatingly emotionless voice. "St. Mungos health and safety must be observed despite these perilous times."

Hermione gasped as she stopped at the desk, "Critical care?"

The woman eyed her wand, "Your wand Ma'am."

"Helena Harrison has just been injured," Hermione began further back in the story, "where's critical care?"

"I cannot let you through with your wand."

"Do you know who I am? I am not someone who is a threat to this hospital, but is trying to save its Administrator, now –" Her voice rising in pitch, "let me through and tell me where the Critical Care wing is that Helena would conduct rounds upon?"

The lady sitting beside the frustrating woman reached over and disabled the warding to enable Hermione past the checkpoint, "Third floor western corridor."

Hermione didn't bother to say thank you as she bolted forward, mentally debating if she should take the stairs or elevator; and eyed the vast staircase and opted for it. She bounded up two and three at a time, heart hammering from the sudden physical exertion but also because of _who_ she was desperately trying to get to, to save.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Elgin appeared in Madame Tessa's foyer listening, having already been to Blondie's daughter's home and not found her; and after few scant seconds he heard her distinct cadence and at once apparated to her location. "Mistress," he stated appearing beside Minerva and next to young Miss Katherine, already reaching for the Mistress, "you'se **must** come."

Minerva could see the worry emanating from his golden eyes as they landed upon hers and his fingers came to rest upon her left forearm. "Hogwarts?" She asked feeling a flutter grace her stomach at what could have driven him to find her after having just left not even ten minutes prior.

"No," he answered only a heartbeat before they were standing in her office. "Helena."

At once, Minerva glanced up to the gallery and Everard was already spouting off the essentials. "She was in St. Mungos conducting rounds – Critical Care Unit and something happened that felled Harold to his knees; Gawain is arriving now, Hermione was still in your office when we received word."

Minerva waved her hand, the floo powder jumping from the canister to the fire; and she strode forward as her wand materialized in her fingers. "Dilys, was she finished with her rounds?" Her question spanned across her own office and Helena's, as she now stood in her dearest friend's office awaiting a response.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Just be a few weeks," Renoir sneered as he unfastened the cloak and glanced to the clock, "my ass." He shook the unruly blond locks that he had been forced to call his own for months. "But not for much longer," he pointed the wand he had taken from the dullard of an Auror at the cloak and watched at the gold melted away into his far more traditional sapphire blue robes. "I've been eating those forsaken muffins for months and months; I can't wait to have something other than that drivel."

He waved the wand and morphed his robes and turned to the mirror, "To see my face is a welcome thought." His eyes slipped from his putrid reflection to that of the healer, eyes sparkling in delight. "And I will get to watch yours vanish into the one before me."

A chortle left his lips at the notion, "How lovely to be able to take you out from beneath countless security as non-other than the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart." The words having died away as contempt began to overtake his visage. "Six months because of your damning protocols to sit around as this buffoon just to get you," he strode towards the maroon robed woman, kicking at her shoulder to push her over enabling him to see her face as he finished, "or McGonagall." He leaned closer, "Six months of my life that I swear once Johannes is done with you, I _will_ repay. Don't worry," he fingered a lock of her blonde hair that connected to the blood matted ends and scalp, "I know in that subconscious mind of yours, you can hear me despite that knock to your head; but if not…" he let his eyes trail down her welcoming physique, "I won't have a problem repeating myself to you right before I fragment that startling mind of yours, cast a silencing spell upon you, and place you in the same muggle ward I sat in for months."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione scanned the last room, spinning around gazing wide-eyed down the corridor rapidly contemplating where Helena would go next after completing her rounds. _Her office? _She began walking forward, her pace quickening with each step until she was jogging – heart pounding in fear for her friend's safety as a tabby streak shot towards her at a dead run, jumping and morphing in to non-other than Minerva McGonagall as she skid to a stop only a half meter from where she landed.

"I've come from her office," Minerva glanced down the where Hermione was heading from, "and I deduce you've been through the critical care rooms?" She surmised, noting the sheen of sweat across Hermione's face and wetting the wisps of hair along her face.

"She's not there." Hermione answered feeling both relieved at seeing Minerva and at the same time somehow more worried. Not of her arrival, but the cool almost mechanical nature at how Minerva seemed to be at the moment. There was no facial expression or ounce of emotion lacing her voice, it was as if she were reciting a text or discussing something of little to no relevance versus the way her best friend's life could be very well hanging in the balance.

Minerva instantly lifted her head to a portrait, "Has Gawain began searching the first floor?"

"He has," the tawny colored witch with thick coke bottom glasses and wavy black hair stated, "and a perimeter has been erected at the exits."

"Do you believe she's still here?" Hermione asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yes," Minerva stated without hesitation, and at seeing Hermione's questioning expression quickly elaborated on a little known truth. "Various magical institutions are warded to note when the Administrators or Heads of the institution are within the structure."

"St. Mungos being one?"

Minerva didn't bother to respond, her head tipping to the side, as she seemed to be listening and then turned to Hermione; "Which room was she last in?"

"Perhaps fifteen minutes ago, last one on the right," Hermione involuntarily pointed.

Minerva hurried forward, Hermione intent on following but stopped at Minerva's words. "Remain where you are, I shan't be a moment."

Hermione felt herself switch her weight from her left to her right foot as Minerva entered the room, and she closed her eyes to force a measure of calmness throughout her body while she tried to remain rooted for the twenty seconds it would take before Minerva rejoined her. Knowing that _every_ moment counted Hermione couldn't for the life of her understand what Minerva was doing _in_ there. However, all of her prior musings and thoughts were driven from her mind as a wolf cantered into the hallway.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold stumbled from the grate, hand and knee striking the marble as he struggled to keep himself from collapsing onto the floor. He could barely hear his own gasping breaths as his head pulsed again and his vision shifted; and it wasn't until the pearly walls began taking shape that he realized that someone was helping him upright. Actually, two persons. He saw concern lacing the murky lines of their faces as he lost focus upon the world immediately around him again.

His world having become finite as his stomach lurched, shoulder jostled and he felt the beginnings of _her_ consciousness stir. _Wake up love, _he thought willing her to find consciousness; and with every ounce of energy he pulled on their bond…

Pain enveloped him again and then he felt a stillness as the opal walls melted away to a stark blackness that seemed to be everywhere he gazed – but he could feel _her_ around him, through him, with him.

_"Helena?"_

A bright light burst forth and he shielded his eyes, turning slightly away as it morphed into _her_ outline; relief coursing through them both as her eyes found his.

_"Harold?"_

* * *

_oxox_

* * *

Gawain burst through the doorway, feeling sorry for startling the patient – hoping he hadn't caused any additional injuries or setbacks to the poor bloke. "Apologies," he curtly stated, "has anyone been in here within the last half hour?"

The startled man remained mute and shook his head negatively; his facial expression souring each second Gawain disturbed him.

"Again, apologies; but if someone enters other than your medical staff, I need you to call the nurse immediately." With that statement, Gawain left his fourth room in as many minutes; Harry striding out of the one next to him.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

The man transfigured the wooden high backed chair into a wheelchair, before levitating Helena into the device. He vaguely noted the rapidly swelling welt across the left side of her forehead, and the trail of blood that had made its way down her face; but paid it little heed his focus remaining upon the essentials, escaping – alive and with a semi-coherent woman in tow.

He brandished the other man's wand, wishing to have his own extension rather than the sluggish one within his grip as her robes morphed into the gilded golden ones he had only moments before shed. His eyes, however, fell to the sure, dexterous fingers and the wand still gripped within them.

_Hmmmm…_he summoned her wand to him, loving the weight and feel of the elm and at a simple revealing spell by the other wand could see that its core was of sphinx's feather. _How rare to have a sphinx's feather contained within a wand, _he thought appreciatively as he jammed the other man's wand into the back of his robes, having obtained a treasure of a wand.

"No wonder why you are such a good healer," he mocked as he moved the wand in an arc, "this is a marvelous instrument. It definitely helps to explain why Johannes believes everyone need be cautious regarding you." He scoffed, "As if a healer bares a concern by themselves."

* * *

oxoxx

* * *

She stepped into the hospital room prepared to issue apologies, but the woman was comatose and obviously in discomfort. She did not look as if the odds of her survival were in her favor, and for that Minerva's heart skipped a beat, but only one, because at this very moment, that is all she had time for. She had to find Helena.

She tipped her head, allowed the animagi within her to sense the room and the first overpowering smell of the woman's flesh wounds, mixed with astringents, herbal poultices and potions turned the contents of her stomach at once. Taking in another breath, she could smell three other distinct scents; a heavy mix of musk, liniment and bergamot – _must be the person assigned to Helena, it was a man with her today. He's probably got a limp, hence the liniment…probably from having to stand or walk more than usual. Great, Gawain sent someone who spends time behind a desk or is rather new. _The second scent – she knew immediately and while it was a welcome balm to her senses, she had no time to dwell upon the rich almond laced with vanilla and what smelled of a hint of cinnamon mixed with the smell of burnt cherry wood from using her floo – Hermione. The third scent – while she'd know it anywhere, she held. It was of Helena. The strong rush of lemon verbena, the hint of _Riji_, and tulip ash – _she must have flooed from home,_ Minerva thought. Harold loved dried Tulipwood, the heart of the tree having streaks of purple and it burnt beautifully.

Feeling her heart cease, she quickly pushed the emotion aside. It did not do to dwell on what could be, and with a tilt of her head and another half breath she weighed her options. _Cat or wolf, _and while one would enable her to smell more, the other...she could track now that she had the scent and if too many others hadn't intersected.

At once, she spun on her heel and delved deep within her magic and willed her body to morph into that of her second animagus. Taking one last breath, she stepped from the room, her eyes immediately falling upon Hermione.

She could see the impatience quickly dampened by the surprise, shock and finally recognition as to _who_ the wolf exiting the room really was.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione blatantly stared at the wolf, mind reeling and connecting as to who the wolf was. _She _was beautiful. The color of her coat was of the same tawny, black, marbled hue however, the markings were vastly different; the mask about her eyes and face were tawny and marbled, as were the areas of her undercoat. The tip of one of her ears was the same color as her pearly white streak, the other ear and the remainder of her coat was black.

Minerva quickly moved forward, head tipping to the side only briefly as she looked at Hermione; and her heart stilled at the clarity of emerald colored eyes gazing into her own before Minerva had past her. Four steps later, Minerva glanced over her shoulder for a moment, message clear; _she should follow._

Feeling as if picking up suddenly leaden feet, she jerked her body into motion following Minerva and wondering why Minerva had opted to alter her form into that of a wolf versus a cat. However, as Hermione saw her begin to move, she squelched her internal musing aside for later. _Much later_, she thought as she quickened her pace to keep up with Minerva who was already disappearing around the corner.

* * *

oxox

* * *

_"Love, you must wake up." Harold stated as stared at his wife._

_ "Where are we?" Helena spun around; gazing about the blackness before letting her eyes rest upon Harold's. The pulsing behind her eyes having lessened somewhat upon arriving wherever 'here' was. "Our bond?"_

_ "I believe so," Harold gently replied, "but you must awaken."_

_ Trepidation laced blue eyes, "My head aches with abandon, and have no ability to focus."_

_ "I know love, I feel the searing pain; but take my strength and force your way through the blackness. Gawain and the Ministry are coming for you," he took a step closer, letting his hand barely touch the outer part of her arm, "as is Minerva. But you, my love, have to help them find you."_

_ "It's not fear of awakening," Helena replied, "I do not know if I can."_

_ Harold stepped forward, pulling her into his embrace and she wrapping her arms around his solidarity, "Believe, my love." He whispered as their bond pulsed and her pain stretched between them causing a moan to slip from both sets of lips and Helena to feel Harold's physical presence slip away as the black veil of unconsciousness began to shatter. _

Helena grasped the stomach wrenching pain throbbing in time with her pulse as her eyes fluttered open.

* * *

Oxoxo

* * *

"Stop," Jayne shoved through the throng of people to the two men holding Helena's husband, Harold, upright. He appeared dazed, and it was evident that the men were going to take him to admittance. And Jayne absently shook her head, "Please, leave him here with me." She stated eyes remaining on Harold as she directed the Ministry Aurors to set him down on a cot beside her.

"You are sure?" The man closest to her questioned in a disbelieving tone, "You know who this is? A senior Administrator at the Ministry who appears to need some medical assistance."

"I am sure," Jayne replied, "as I am _acutely_ aware of who he is, as he also happens to be our Administrator's husband. If his condition changes, I'll make sure he receives treatment."

"Very well." The man acknowledged and they deposited him upon the cot and sped off from whence they came before she could find his pulse.

"Harold?"

A moan slipped from his lips as her fingers found his rapidly beating pulse.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

With steady fingers, he wandlessly summoned a muffin from the tray and shrunk it to the size of a pea before taking his right hand and opening her mouth. "A tasty morsel."

He dropped it into her mouth and was about to stand up, when he noticed something from his peripheral vision and then felt a wet object strike his cheek followed by the unmistakable feeling of spit splatter across his skin.

His head whipped around as murky blue eyes met his, "I think not," she rasped as she brought up her second wand in a flourish stroke and his body flew backwards into the wall with a thud. Practically blind from the pain, she maneuvered herself forward, feeling her body thud against the floor as she groped ahead; able to see the vague contours of the room, she veered towards where she knew the doorframe to be.

Her heart pounding in her head as she heard scraping coming from the opposite side of the room and she pushed ahead using her right leg, her left leg and arm moving sluggishly. _Concussion along the right side of the brain, temporal lobe and occipital; partial blindness, lack of motor function entire left side, shortness of breath, nausea…_she stopped listing her obvious medical conditions, knowing that she needed to see a healer; immediately. She had swelling along two axis of her cerebrum and was quickly loosing more and more functioning.

"Where…" she heard him groan as a he moved, "do you think you're going?"

She ignored his comment, lifting her wand arm and sending a plasma pulse at the door without thought, it was one of the few spells she could easily recall. She had, after all, spent three months learning and practicing it with Minerva before she left for the war. A faint smile fluttered across her lips at the previously forgotten thought, knowing that he would stop her from reaching her goal, but hoping that her spell would at the very least let someone know where she was.

"No!" He screeched as bloody fingers picked up the wand, a red bolt shooting from the one within her unsteady hand; and as the door burst apart his spell struck her rendering her unconscious. "So much for easy." He snapped, mildly impressed at her resourcefulness in both having a second wand and in knowing a plasma spell. _Definitely not your run of the mill healer_, he thought as he made her weightless; no longer able to remain where they were. He'd have to find another way to escape with her.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione was running full tilt as Minerva's pace quickened again, obvious that she was retracing Helena's scent. They had arrived onto the fourth floor, patients and healers quickly moving out of the way as Minerva headed down the main artery – Hermione beside her wand out. She was sure it wasn't every day a wolf and witch flew down the marbled hallway.

Upon coming to a four-tiered junction, Minerva's pace slowed, nose lifting to the air. She retraced her steps twice as she walked along the dais; pausing for a long moment, obviously trying to determine which direction.

Then suddenly she drew to a stop, ears perking up and head tilting incrementally to the side; and she started moving forward slowly, and then faster and faster…body breaking into a dead run, back sliding around the corner as nails scraped for traction upon the marble. Hermione tore around the corner, desperately trying to follow; and was awed as Minerva's long form lunged forward, morphed and the tawny, marbled, black coat melted away into emerald robes, creamy skin and ebony hair. She was reaching for the door, Hermione drawing to it when Minerva's gloved hand paused only centimeters away from the handle and suddenly sprang at Hermione. Minerva's body crashing into hers as the door burst apart, splinters peppering the hallway as the word, "No!" rang outward.

Hermione could feel Minerva pushing herself upward, hearing the slightest moan slip from her lips as she did. Minerva probably wasn't even cognizant that she had done it, her movement was so precise, and motive clearly intent; obvious her focus was upon entering the room just before them.

Hermione pulled her legs up as Minerva stood; she grasped her wand tightly in her hand as strands of her hair spilled across her shoulder as she stood too. They could hear movement beyond and Minerva motioned for them to close in upon the door. Minerva waved off a group of healers as they both leaned against the wall, listening for a moment before her breath fell softly across Hermione's skin. "Helena is just beyond."

Hermione felt herself nod, almost surly. She could hear faint scuffing, smell the burnt wood; but Minerva's proximity stilled her nerves and rapidly beating heart, drowning out any notion of anxiousness. Without thought, she reached outward, gently gripping Minerva's forearm causing the elder woman to glance to her; and emerald eyes met reassuring brown ones.

And then…with a nod, both women entered the room – as one.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold gasped as a swell of unconsciousness swept over Helena, the pain mildly abating and the world once again took shape.

Blue eyes blinked as the image before him took shape into Jayne's face.

"How is she?" Jayne asked without preamble, one of the few who knew of the Harrison's close _connection_.

"Not well." Harold he rasped, wincing as he sat fully upright. "Where is Michael or Pennington?"

Involuntarily, her eyes widened that he knew whom Helena's final two candidates that she would potentially be mentoring. "They are both here. Is it that serious?"

"She received two significant blows to her head." Harold unsteadily placed his hands on either side of him, preparing to push himself upwards. "She needs immediate assistance."

Jayne placed her hand upon his shoulder, staying his departure. "I'll get them and prepare a team." She was already threading through the crowd leaving him momentarily alone.

"Hang on." Harold whispered as he fell back onto the cot, his strength failing him as a tear slipped down his cheek.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione flung a stunning spell forward, joining Minerva's paralyzing one at the dark haired man; who was cast a protego charm to defend himself and Minerva didn't bother slowing down as he retaliated. With a flick of her wrist, the spell became errant and charred the wall; and Hermione felt like she was watching a woman without fear diving headlong into the abyss and she found her wand moving faster as she cast spell after spell, driving the man farther back and away from Minerva as she knelt by Helena's side.

Even from her position, she could see the blood staining her normally blond locks.

"Go." Hermione stated as Minerva cast a protego charm that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

"You won't win, McGonagall." The man sneered and Minerva lifted her head to fully look at the man only a half dozen steps from her and Helena. She knew him. Then again, she had known and schooled Tom and most of the Death Eaters. Swallowing the long since feeling of guilt for not having helped them chose a better path, stiff fingers tightened around her wand. "There are things in motion that even you and your precious _followers_ can't stop." He sent another percussion of spells at her and Helena.

Minerva's eyes flashed to Hermione, and back to Helena and to the door. Helena's pulse was weak and she needed to see a healer, immediately. And Minerva was torn.

Take Helena to the emergency care unit or take the additional five minutes to defeat Phillip with Hermione. It might be sooner, but…every minute she waited could have a significant effect upon Helena's chance at recovery.

She knew what was needed, to ensure the man who had portrayed himself as Gilderoy Lockhart was captured so he could be questioned. But, she could not sacrifice her friend.

"Hermione…" her voice sounded foreign even to her own ears as she felt her protego charm begin to shatter. "I'll be back."

Hermione didn't understand how Minerva would exit the room, and she was sure Minerva would take Helena with her – somehow. Yet, she couldn't conceive how, as she'd be exposed, as would Helena.

"I've got this." Hermione replied, sounding more self-confident than she actually felt.

Minerva pulled her magic to her…feeling Hogwarts and Albus thrum and resonate; she eyed the door gripping Helena by the shoulder and with a gentle tug, confirmed that he had indeed made her weightless. Green met brown, Minerva stared for a moment into her depths, and then with a nod Hermione stood and Minerva sprung forward.

Hermione never saw how Minerva evacuated with Helena; her only goal was to keep the man before her away from them.

She dodged curse after curse, sending them back with equal fervor. Barely a minute later, the room lay in ruin and he was bolting through the door; Hermione sprinting after him. Her curses scorched the walls to the left and right of him as he weaved, causing her to miss; and as he flew towards the stairs – he seemed to jump the floor in its entirety.

She followed suite, jumping heedlessly down the stairs, and as she felt her boot catch the edge she stumbled a half step; before she righted herself and was in pursuit. Her sapphire robes and wisps of hair billowing behind her as she landed in much the same fashion upon the second floor landing before launching herself down the last set of stairs, the man already rolling into a standing position from having landed wrong; wand out and stunning a handful of wizards and witches in his wake as he raced ahead.

Hermione felt her ankle catch as her feet struck the unforgiving marble, she could tell where he was trying to get to, the apparition point.

Despite the massive bombardment of spells at him, he broke through the barrier and Hermione leapt ahead; extending her magic outward as he apparated and she followed.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Michael stilled his nerves as Minerva entered and was one of the person's pushing an ashen-faced Helena Harrison. He lifted his wand before she was even through the door, he had cast a diagnostic spell.

"We need to stop the swelling." He stated, voice laced with concern as he read the results. "She has a severe concussion…"

Minerva wanted to stay, to ensure that Helena would be all right; but forced herself to take a step backwards and then a second, and a third. Her mind moving past Helena, she was being treated…Hermione, on the other hand…

There was no more hesitation as the thought coalesced, only the emerald from the back of her robe remained. Upon leaving the critical care room, she could hear the commotion and see the errant spells coming from the entrance. Gripping her wand, or at least feeling it within her hand; she sprinted forward and watched as Phillip dove into the apparition point and the woman who was rapidly seizing her heart stretched a hand outward. She could see his magic pulse, Hermione's magic swelling…and with a thunderous clap and rippling outward discharge; both Phillips and Hermione vanished.

Everyone else, aurors included, lowered their wands and Minerva continued running ahead – holding her left hand, feeling the magical signature that they left upon apparating as she passed the check in desk and apparated in tune with the signature.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione landed with a thud, collapsing into a body. Both he and she spun around, spells falling from their lips and their bodies recoiled from the collision of their spells.

Hermione felt a rock dig across her back as she slid backward upon the ice, her left hand pushing strands of hair from her eyesight as she knelt forward; charming the snow to rapidly melt and burn him.

He cooled the steam and morphed the large droplets into needles that he hurled in her direction.

A wall of ice sprang up from the snow, absorbing the needles as Hermione sent two stunning spells.

"Is that the best you can do?" He mocked, "A lousy stunning spell?"

"No," Hermione replied as he countered those, "but it gave me time to do…" She flicked her fingers concluding the spell; the snow around them morphed into a lake of water and with barely another wave of her wand; it rushed forward and froze him in place as a flash of light sparked to her right. Spell already on her lips, she turned and felt a wave of relief; Minerva had arrived.

Minerva assessed the situation in a heartbeat; Hermione had bested Phillip by using a flash flood approach and then freezing it once he had been engulfed. He would still be alive for a few more minutes unless they didn't release him. "Are you alright?" Minerva questioned as she neared Hermione.

"Yeah." Hermione breathed out, feeling the water from the snow had melted seeping through her boots. "Where does he need to be transported to?"

"The Ministry." Minerva replied, eyes scanning across Hermione's body and noting that she was leaning more on her left foot than right. "Ankle twisted or muscle pull?"

"Ankle," Hermione turned to Minerva eyes questioning, "how'd you know?"

"Weight dispersement." Minerva lifted her wand to the block of ice, "Would you like me to unfreeze him and you stun him or vice versa?"

Hermione eyed Minerva, "Which ever will be easier on you as I doubt changing into your animagus state is only a small draw upon your magic, let alone however you managed to find where we apparated to and follow us." Her gaze fell to Minerva's gloved hands, "They're burnt, aren't they?" She quietly questioned.

"They are stiff," Minerva admitted, "and we both need to get indoors."

Hermione could feel the cold beginning to ebb through her system, obviously the adrenaline was waning; and if she was cold, Minerva had to be freezing. "I'll stun him and apparate us back to St. Mungos and then him to the Ministry."

"Gawain is still at St. Mungos, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to handle Phillip's move to a Ministry secured holding area to speak with him." Minerva lifted her wand, "Ready?"

Hermione mutely nodded, and as Minerva transfigured the ice into air Hermione stunned Phillip. Neither women moved to stop him from falling face down, Minerva merely summoned the wand from his hand before he landed upon it. At Hermione's questioning look, Minerva tucked it within her robes. "Helena would be terribly upset at having lost her wand after all these years."

"How is she?"

"I don't know." Minerva answered and at seeing Hermione's concern tried to elaborate but couldn't find the words as her throat tightened and she subtly shook her head.

Hermione innately touched Minerva's forearm, wanting her to understand that she did sympathize and was there for her. "She'll be alright."

Minerva barely nodded, not willing to let the damn of emotion out just yet. She'd do that once she was alone, not wanting to lean on Hermione any more than she had to. It was already becoming too difficult to keep her burgeoning feelings tamped down, the last thing she needed was to put fuel on a fire that was on the verge of becoming an inferno.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Jordan hurried through the marbled halls, ignoring the scorch marks and what they could mean to her mother's welfare – and her aunt's. She didn't want to speculate, but from Dilys' message she knew her mother and therefore, her father were not well.

Not even twenty minutes ago, Tessa had fire called to let her know that her mother had dropped off the children and then Elgin had arrived and whisked her away due to an emergency. They both speculated it had to do with Hogwarts, but now…it seemed that they had been grotesquely off the mark.

She felt her heart slow as she neared the emergency care unit, eyes scanning for her aunt or father and at not seeing either; her worry immeasurably deepened. She could tell which unit her mother was in due to the heightened activity; and the other definitive marker was her mother's assistant Jayne was standing next it. She watched as Jayne's gaze caught sight of her, and she easily could see the worry etched in her brown eyes.

At once, she watched as Jayne stood up and rushed forward, "Jordan."

"How is she?"

Jayne shook her head, "I don't know yet, Minerva brought her in about ten minutes ago; she had…" her voice faltering as she relayed what little news she did have, "suffered trauma to the head."

Jordan remained poised as her years of medical training kicked in, "How severe? And do you know the location?" Her eyes scanned pass Jayne looking for her father, "Is father conscious?"

"He's in there." Jayne pointed to the room, "Michael asked him if he could relay…"

Jordan's face lifted at hearing a familiar and very welcoming gait, causing her to turn away from Jayne and for the rest of Jayne's statement to remain unsaid. "Minerva…" Jordan didn't waste another moment as she jogged forward and into the welcoming embrace of her aunt who returned it with equal fervor. "You're alright." She murmured into her shoulder.

"Any news?" Minerva asked as they separated.

Jordan shook her head and was about to respond when she noticed Hermione to her aunt's left. "Thank you."

Hermione glanced to Jordan and then to Minerva and back realizing Jordan had been speaking to her. "Ahhh, you're welcome."

A faint smile spread across her features, "If you're with Minerva, then I'm sure you helped." She refocused on her aunt, "Jayne stated Michael asked father into the room; it would be incredibly helpful if he'd be able to relay symptoms."

"He'd be able to do that?" Hermione questioned, Jordan's brow quirking at Minerva.

"Yes," Minerva answered, turning her full attention to Hermione and ignoring Jordan's mildly confused look; hoping Hermione wouldn't notice. "As Harold and Helena are bound, they are able to feel a myriad of sensations...commonly including where the other is experiencing pain. However, each couple's specific abilities are unique. "

"Do you know what theirs are?" Jordan questioned, realizing from the way Minerva structured her response that Hermione had no knowledge that Albus and Minerva had been bound.

"That is up to them to divulge." Minerva stated, "Not me." Her eyes flickered to the emergency unit and back, "I'll be back shortly, love. I need to return to Hogwarts and speak with Filius; if you have word please send it through Dilys."

"Do you need me to accompany you?" Hermione began moving forward.

"No," Minerva replied, "it would be more helpful for you to get your ankle checked out." She nodded to Jordan, "Perhaps if you have a minute."

"I thought you were a pastry chief." Hermione turned to Helena's daughter.

"After I left St. Mungos." Jordan answered turning to Minerva, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine and I'll be back shortly." She nodded to both women and left without so much as a backward glance.

Jordan didn't follow Minerva, but noticed that Hermione's gaze lingered on her aunt. _Interesting,_ she thought before shaking the absurd thought from her head. "How'd you twist your ankle?"

"Jumping down a flight of steps." Hermione answered as Jordan pulled out her wand.

"Why on earth…" And she adjusted her sentence, "you were chasing the man –"

"Minerva called him Phillip." Hermione interjected as Jordan cast a diagnostic spell.

"I cannot thank you enough for assisting in helping my aunt and protecting my mother." Jordan quietly stated, "I'll ask Jayne to get you a potion to control the swelling and after you ingest it; I'll repair the small tear on your posterior talofibular ligament." Jordan swept to Jayne and quickly discussed something, Jayne nodded and departed. "She'll be back in a few minutes."

"Why didn't you remain in the field?"

Jordan's cheek twitched, "I had a change of heart while interning."

Hermione _wanted_ to ask, but knew now was not the time. "Well, from your demeanor; it looks as though you'd have made an excellent healer." She held up her hands, "Not that your pastries aren't to die for, I'm just saying."

"Just don't tell my mother." Jordan jested, enjoying the younger witch's company and easy manner. "She and father are always stealing trays of my Danish."

"I would too." Hermione replied hoping to keep Jordan's thoughts diverted, but at seeing the oppressive worry return to blue eyes; she knew her thoughts had returned to her parents. "Medically, how rare is it to encounter someone who is bound?"

"At this point, exceptionally rare. It is not common practice, while here I only encountered it one other time besides my parents." Jordan ambiguously stated. "And that was a very special case, like my parents, only the Head Administrator and a handful of practicing healers were even aware due to the inherent danger to the couple if it were to become common knowledge."

"I don't understand, why do it then if there is such a danger?"

Jordan stepped closer to Hermione searching her eyes and at not seeing any spark of understanding quietly elaborate, "Because while it endangers both of them, it also enhances every aspect of their life including their life span."

"They really love each other." Hermione whispered.

"Madly in love and still _very _active in expressing it. I can only hope by the time I'm their age, I can be half as energetic as they are in _all_ aspects of their life."

"Do you think it's a by-product of their bond?"

Blue eyes sparkled, "It definitely makes me pause."

"Then you've considered it?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

Jordan noticed Jayne only a few meters from them, "Of course; Malcolm and I have agreed to wait until all the children are finished with Hogwarts like my parents."

Jayne handed the half pint to Hermione, "I believe this is for you."

Hermione didn't pause as she downed the bottle, floored by Jordan's commentary. _How could she consider it? What was she 'not' seeing? _Her thoughts were waylaid as Jordan cast a spell on her ankle and it stiffened, she'd research more about the nature of a bond this coming week. Intrigued didn't begin to scratch the surface after her brief conversation with Jordan; and she was sure that Jordan wasn't relaying _all_ the facts – which only further piqued her curiosity.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva pushed off her walking stick, exhausted as the wind cut against her cheek and she stared at the encampment. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here sooner."

Tenien motioned for her to follow him, "I only asked that he inform you; although it does me good to see you."

"Rory relayed that you found two unicorns slain and a youngling along the northwestern border."

Instantly concern flashed, "You think it was Harkiss?"

She stopped and met his gaze with a tired but resolute expression. "That leaves only three magical creatures, and he is deftly trying to find a way to hurt your younglings."

"The other two remaining ones?"

"Griffin and Phoenix."

"When exploring, I saw a phoenix nesting by the lake…"

Minerva held up her hand, "I'm aware. That's why I asked that you leave that part of the property unspoiled."

"I do not know how long we can hold him off."

"Neither do I," Minerva's voice held a tenor of resignation, "You have my deepest sympathies regarding what Johannes is trying to do to your young and now to your expecting mothers."

"The weight of this burden does not rest solely with you," Tenien countered.

"I can't help but feel partially responsible," Minerva admitted before reaching out and patting his upper arm. "Is there anything else I can do in the interim to help you or your people?"

"You have done so much," Tenien gazed upon her warmly, "far more than any other human; even your husband. No matter the outcome, know that we are indebted to you."

"There is no debt held between friends," Minerva went to step away but Tenien reached forward halting her movement.

"Then be mindful, friend." His voice carrying upon the wind, "As Albus' star has passed beyond the veil, the light all but gone from the evening sky and only a twinkle remains of yours; if you do not let him go, it will be to all of our ruin."

Emerald eyes flashed as they met his, no longer able to listen to his nonsense regarding the stars, associations and positioning in the sky. "You ask me to give up what I cannot. We were bound," at seeing he did not understand her reference she expanded her answer, "tethered to each other. I should have died when he fell, and since that day have been slowly slipping from this world to the next; while he awaits me in the land of what you'd call dreams. There is no way to dissolve our bond and while your stars believe that my life may be influenced by Titan; there is no one who holds that role and no way to slow my rapid decent unto death. In this instance my friend, the stars have misled you as I shall be dead within a month of the spring solstice."

Tenien didn't seem shocked or discouraged, he merely leaned closer. "They have not misled me, Minerva." Golden eyes stared into hers, "I cannot understand how Titan will affect you nor who; only that it shall. And as for this tether you speak of, it is what is pulling you from the night sky; but a decision shall be laid before you to remain tethered or finally to become free to be Venus and not live in Jupiter's shadow."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva heavily sat down, the room finally alone; save for her dearest friend who lay seemingly asleep upon the bed. There had been considerable swelling in her cerebrum, and while it was not common practice for them to permit a person with head trauma to sleep; due to the severity and volume of potions they had given her intravenously, they wanted her to rest. They'd begin to determine if there had been any lasting effects tomorrow; when both she and Harold were awake. Her eyes flickered to Harold who lay asleep in the bed next to her and back. They had given him a dreamless draught to enable him to sleep, and both their bodies to heal.

She let the events of the day wash over her as she reached out and gently picked up Helena's hand and encased it within her own. "I almost lost you today, you old fool." She swallowed down the heartache as the tears she had held at bay all day began flowing freely down her face.

"No…more…than….you." Helena murmured startling Minerva into a standing position.

"Don't move, I'll get the healers." Minerva went to leave but Helena's hand tightened upon hers.

"Don't." She whispered, "Just…talk…to me." Her eyes fluttered open, her right one barely able from the swelling as a tired murky left one tried and failed to focus.

Minerva's gaze flickered to the door and Helena squeezed her hand.

"Ple…ase."

"Is this for all the times I have scarred you witless?"

Helena murmured an affirmative response before asking about her husband. "Harold?"

"He's sleeping in the bed next to you," she reassured her, "they gave him a dreamless draught an hour ago that's why you probably can't you feel him through the bond."

"Disjointed…"

"That too." Minerva agreed.

"Jordan?"

"I sent her, Malcolm and the grandchildren home to have some dinner and assured them I'd muddle through until they returned. She's worried."

"You too."

"I almost lost you."

Helena squeezed Minerva's fingers again, "Not…that lucky."

"Apparently not. Although, I did happen to come across your wand this morning in Phillip Thompson's hand; thought you may want it back."

"Tomor…row. …head…" Helena's eyes fluttered close, "hurts a bit."

"I'm sure." Minerva replied, "I spoke with Michael and he said the prognosis looks good."

"Liar." Helena rasped, "Can't see you."

"I know." Minerva's voice broke as she felt a new wave of tears slip onto her cheeks, "But you will."

"How bad…'re…you aff..ected?"

"Don't worry about me," Minerva leaned forward kissing Helena's cheek, "just focus on you this evening."

Helena forced her eyes open again, turning to where she knew Minerva to be. "You…are a part of me. How can…I not worry?"

"A half percent." Minerva quietly replied, "Now rest."

Helena closed her eyes, "Gawain?"

Minerva summoned the chair closer, maintaining her hold on Helena's hand. "Had an inch skinned from his hide."

"He didn't cap…ture Phillip?"

"Hermione did." Minerva answered causing the faintest of smiles to ghost across the corner of Helena's mouth.

"Sounds…as if there's a story…there…when…head doesn't feel like it's…cleaved in half."

"I thought you were suppose to be resting."

"And you talking." Helena quipped as she re-adjusted herself on the pillow, relishing Minerva's presence along with her husband's; and she squeezed Minerva's fingers as her lilt danced across the air, knowing that she could let oblivion claim her once again and she'd be safe.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A/N: Harkiss couldn't let the Holidays slip by without interjecting a little to the festivities. And 'tomorrow' is New Year's Eve…wow. Took long enough ;) As always I sincerely hope you enjoyed!


	76. Chapter 73 December 31st, 2009

_a/n: Before delving into the story below;  
_

_1. In response to a lot of concern/questions/comments - I want you to know that I have every intention of finishing this story and being able to one day 'login' and hit the 'complete' button on it. It might take a 'wee bit' to get there...but have faith, we're making progress. And before you ask or think of asking, no - I'm not writing a sequel._

_2. I'm taking a month off. So read the drabble below...very...very...slowly._

_3. THANK YOU for all your wondrous comments and reviews! They have helped me to keep plugging along._

_4. And most importantly, _

_Enjoy!  
_

**Chapter 73 ~ December 31****st****, 2009 (Thursday) – New Year's Eve**

Griphook met Minerva's gaze, "Will she be alright?"

"They are conducting tests this morning," Minerva replied and leaned forward, sensing his worry. "Griphook, why the concern?"

Smoky elder eyes met hers, "Do tell her that Chrix is waiting."

"Chrix…" Minerva whispered, "What was she to be doing at the main hospital helping out your Head Administrator?"

"She has seen a new strain of a viral contagion that appears it can cross species; ours and elves. In both cases, it has rendered the patients' magic useless – even after treatment."

"She…may not be able to assist, Griphook." Minerva forced herself to say, "She had two severe strikes to the head; no one outside of family is being told of her condition."

His face blanched, "Has she been cognitively compromised?"

"We won't know until later today."

"If not, and if she is able; I need you to ask her if she'd be willing to meet with Chrix."

"I'll speak with her this afternoon and send word."

He stood, pausing voice sounding as tired as she felt. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I do hope she'll be alright."

"If she isn't able, Griphook; I'll find someone who can help."

"Your resources are as stretched as mine, do not make a commitment you will not be able to keep."

"We're talking about the livelihood of your race and the elves," Minerva rebuked, "it's a commitment I have to make, or all that what we have been doing for the last six decades has been for naught."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione went to knock on the door, but the guard outside merely opened it granting her entry. Hermione walked in, eyes gazing about to see who else was within the room and was surprised to only see Helena and Harold.

"Good afternoon." She stated, both turning to her.

Harold looked haggard, despite having slept using a dreamless draught; and Helena's complexion, ashen. She had never witnessed the St. Mungos Administrator as anything other than vibrant, today though, the hue of her skin was paisley, blond hair matted appearing almost stringy and the blue eyes muted. She also had a large yellow bruise along her right eye, restraining it from fully opening, and the bruise grew darker higher upon her head to an ugly purple and green hardly obscured by her blond locks.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione set a vase of yellow roses in the window, catching Harold's appreciative smile.

"Like my head was split open." Helena jested, "But thanks to you, it's only partially scrambled."

"Jordan relayed that there would be no lasting effects." Hermione gently stated, "Even to your eyesight."

Helena narrowed her eyes, trying to see even a blurry image of her. "It seems as though we both may have to update our prescription, but yes. Have you spoken with Minerva since this morning?"

Hermione shook her head, "I have not seen her today, she wasn't at breakfast or lunch."

"She stayed here last evening," Helena relayed and continued onward, "and I haven't been able to let her know the results of the tests."

"I'm sure Jordan sent word to her," Hermione countered.

Harold's deep voice broke across the air, "She and Rory have been inaccessible since prior to lunch."

Hermione remembered Rory's note, and while she hadn't had an opportunity to speak with Minerva regarding the meaning. She was sure, Minerva was taking precautions, whatever that may be. "They wouldn't be inaccessible without reason, I'm …"

The door opened and Hermione's statement became irrelevant as the very woman they were speaking of swept into the room, looking as exhausted as Harold. Hermione felt her pulse jump at seeing her, and concern flare at peering into fatigued eyes and sunken shoulders. She could only imagine what Minerva had been taking care of since yesterday morning, obviously it hadn't been sleeping. Inevitably she was seeing to Helena and Harold's needs without them even being aware, she should have foreseen that – however, she very much doubted that Helena or Harold would have rested as comfortably with her versus Minerva. And yet, how much more could the woman before her push?

_Not much more_, Hermione inwardly answered.

"I heard," Minerva breathed, relief evident in her words and posture as she withdrew a pair of glasses from her robes while she strode forward. "And thought these," she set them into Helena's right hand and gently curled her own around hers, "might be a good place to start."

Helena could tell they were a pair of her glasses, and smiled at the blurry lines of her dearest friend. "I don't think I'm quite up to these."

"Ahh…ahh." Minerva sat next to her on the bed, "While you have your expertise, I do have one of my own. And I'd kindly appreciate it if you'd try them on."

Harold narrowed his own eyes and drew closer, enabling him to see Minerva and his wife's face better; his own eyesight having become significantly worse since yesterday morning. "You spoke with Jordan?"

"And Michael, Tessa, Percy, along with Elgin and Bonnie; thankfully Filius only relayed that you were awake." She turned to Harold, "Worried I wouldn't get the message?"

"Merely concerned, love as no one had heard from you since this morning."

"Well, I had a few loose ends from yesterday to finish up." She returned her attention to Helena as she slipped on the golden frames.

Helena blinked as the world seemed to jostle before her and then slowly it came in to focus and she could see the room around her, "Dare I ask, as they said my vision will be adjusting for weeks."

"They'll auto adjust, but from what Michael's stated; it would be incumbent for you not to wear them for more than a half hour at a time for the next week." She eyed Harold's glasses, and nodded to them. "I'd be happy to adjust those as well." She extended her hand and he laid his glasses on her fingers as she fully turned to Hermione, "And good afternoon to you." Minerva gave the younger woman a warm, albeit brief smile before inquiring. "How's your ankle fairing?" Without looking, she waved her wand and murmured an incantation upon the glasses before handing them back to Harold.

"Barely stiff, Jordan did a marvelous job."

Simultaneously, Harold and Helena turned to Hermione; shock lining their faces. "Jordan treated you? When?" Helena's gaze locked with Minerva's outline, "You knew of this and didn't say anything?"

Hermione felt, lost somehow. She had figured there was a reason as to why Jordan wasn't practicing, from the dialogue she was witnessing, but she had no reference point. "Yesterday morning, but I fail to see the relevance."

Minerva sighed, "No, I didn't relay it to either of you, because I didn't know if she would treat Hermione. I merely asked before departing to Hogwarts while Michael was treating you." She stood and met Hermione's questioning gaze. "Jordan, as you learned yesterday, used to be a healer but she stopped practicing medicine just over thirteen years ago."

"Thirteen years…" Hermione murmured and then realized what incident may have caused her to stop. "Was she on duty the evening with Esmerele?"

It wasn't Minerva who answered, but Helena's thready voice. "Yes. She was one of the first responding healers when Minerva appeared in my office. There was little we could do for Esmerele, and at having to pronounce what amounted to her sister dead – it only became worse as I needed help to stabilize Minerva. After Esmerele's funeral and Minerva's _miraculous_ recovery, she left St. Mungos; she couldn't bear the thought of having to treat her family or dearest friends and potentially losing them. And she hasn't practiced since then, save for a few bruises on the children's knees."

"She seems as though she would have been a wonderful healer," Hermione stated, "much like her mother."

Minerva responded before either Harold or Helena had an opportunity, "She was and for a time appeared as though she'd eventually surpass Helena's prodigious expertise."

Harold felt Helena's melancholy and sensed Minerva's, "I do believe she had already surpassed your bedside manner, which at times is dreadful love." Harold finished while sitting down next to his wife and kissing her temple.

Helena gently swatted at him, "Only to you."

"And me." Minerva corrected.

"Unfortunately, I have to agree as well." Hermione joined in dispelling the last of occupants' unease. "I have never encountered a healer who summoned thorns from a patient's hands."

"Yes, well; if I recall you had just endangered Minerva's welfare."

Harold finally put on his glasses, "The only travesty that you could have invoked upon yourself that would have a less favorable outcome would have been if something would have happened to her."

"Or you."

Harold shook his head, "Oh heaven's no." Harold corrected, "Minerva's welfare surpasses even mine or the children's at this point; only the grandchildren rate above her." He squeezed his wife's hand, letting her know that he understood. "And I can tell you after knowing Minerva for as long as I have, that the same goes for Helena."

"Harold, you know that I would forgo yours and Helena's safety to save my children; and Helena would do the same for Jordan."

Blue eyes twinkled knowingly, "Albus and I spoke at length one evening; and no – you wouldn't. Not unless there was no other choice."

"That's not surprising." Hermione's statement diffusing any mounting tension, "They've been friends for over seventy years."

"Seventy-six." Helena specified as she gazed towards Minerva.

"It has been a _long_ time." Minerva remarked.

"I…can't remember a time when you haven't been my friend." Helena whispered.

"Nor I." Minerva agreed before clearing her throat; "Though, it would have made for a far more enjoyable New Year's if you had remembered to duck."

"I don't think I'm up for a glass of champagne this evening, perhaps you will have one with Harold."

Harold held up his hand, "It'll have to hold for another evening, maybe when you are released."

"Or a few weeks after so I can enjoy one as well." Helena leaned on her husband's shoulder, eyes drifting partially close.

"I'll be back later," Minerva stated causing Helena to immediately sit upright.

"Oh, you don't have to leave, you've only just arrived."

Minerva stepped forward, leaning in and kissed Harold's cheek and then Helena's in farewell. "I'll be back this evening after rounds."

"No, Minerva; we'll be fine." Harold reassured.

"My plans for this evening were drastically altered yesterday morning, and while I won't be drinking some freshly distilled malt; I hope to still enjoy a few moments of your company before you both retire for the evening."

"Minerva…"

"I can't stay after Saturday evening as the children will have returned to Hogwarts; and Rory has word that Johannes may try something this next week. If you can honestly say that you will sleep just fine without me here, I shall spend the evening in my bed; but the goal is for you both to rest while you can."

"My dear, we don't want to impose, especially with everything else going on."

"Will you sleep better if I stay?"

Harold and Helena shared a long look before Harold met her gaze, and gave a singular nod. "If you can return this evening so I can have one more dreamless draught."

"Then I shall return shortly after eleven."

Hermione blinked disbelieving, there was no way Minerva would be able to function if she remained awake this evening too. "Would either of you be comfortable if I were the one to stand guard this evening or at least part of it to enable Minerva some rest as well?"

Helena nor Harold were too shocked by the sentiment and Hermione's statement to answer; it wasn't until they heard Minerva's immediate rebuttal that they could even believe someone, other than themselves or Rory since Albus' passing, thought of her safety before their own. Helena laid a hand upon Harold's arm, there was no need for them to say a word; their bond having become altered, stronger since yesterday morning as their feelings were able to relay contextual substance.

"Your children…" Minerva began but Hermione interjected.

"Are at my parents. I sent them there yesterday after the incident with Helena when I returned to Hogwarts. You are as exhausted as they, and in desperate need of sleep."

"It's settled," Harold rumbled having already agreed with Helena. "Minerva for the first half and Hermione the second."

Minerva's eyes flashed from Harold to Hermione, irritation flaring for a moment before being drowned out by fatigue. "Then I shall see you this evening."

"As will I." Hermione leapt at the opportunity to depart with Minerva, wanting to speak with her and ensure that she had no hard feelings or was trying to intrude into her personal life or that of her dearest friends.

"Till this evening," Helena tiredly remarked against her husband's shoulder.

Hermione nodded and waved good-bye; stepping from the room only a half step ahead of Minerva, Minerva's words trailing out the door with her. "Do try and get some rest."

"Same to you, dear."

Minerva paused at the door, voice catching as she spoke to Helena and Harold softly in Gaelic. _"Love to you both."_ Hermione feeling a swell of pride pulse in her spine that she understood what Minerva had said.

_"And ours to you."_ Helena's replied in kind, her Gaelic more broken – sounding as she did when speaking with Bonnie. But, she had understood.

Minerva's walking cane sounded as she turned from the room and Hermione strode beside her as they walked the corridor. Few words being exchanged, Hermione merely noting the barely concealed fatigue emanating from the woman beside her. She couldn't help but wonder if Minerva had had any rest since yesterday morning.

Minerva's voice broke the stillness as soon as the elevator's doors closed, "While I do appreciate your assistance regarding protecting their welfare, do you not have plans for the evening?"

"Dinner at Harry's, which I can still attend and then join you to St. Mungos this evening."

"You needn't go when I do, or at all as I shall be fine."

The inflection in Hermione's voice dropped, "You're so tired that it's visible through your glamour charm."

"Hermione…"

"Let me help you, as you are helping them." Hermione could see the moment of hesitation, her _want _to acquiesce and she felt sudden desire to wrap Minerva within her arms. To offer her comfort, knowing that even the mightiest person needs a moment of respite. However, the beep of the elevator doors stymied the notion. "Please accept my offer."

Minerva paused a moment more, before giving a solitary nod as she once again resumed her uneasy walk. "Very well, but you needn't arrive until 3."

"I thought we could both go at 11 and take turns without having to worry about waking either Helena or Harold."

Minerva peered sideways at Hermione, "Spending New Year's in the hospital is not as adventurous as spending it at the Potters."

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione retorted, "I figured you'd sneak a bottle of something into the hospital to at the very least toast the New Year; even dram size glasses."

"Perhaps that could be arranged." Minerva nodded to Byron and Viktor who were the two wizards staffing the check-in desk this afternoon, along with Pansy and Clarence from Gawain's department.

"Are you returning to Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned as they approached the floo and apparition point.

"By way of Gringotts." Minerva answered, "As I have not been able to get there this morning after departing St. Mungos."

"What of Rory's message from yesterday?"

"I spoke with Tenien last evening and he did find two unicorns and a youngling taken; as for the Centaurs they are beginning to lose ground and it will only be a matter of time before Johannes finds what he seeks."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"If you'd be so kind as to bring Samantha here to visit Helena before you head to the Burrow, that would be of great assistance. It seems as though my afternoon is slipping away faster than I had foreseen."

"Is that all?"

Emerald eyes flashed in gratitude, "Yes."

Hermione didn't push, merely nodded and Minerva gave her a smile and took another handful of steps and without reaching for the floo powder, it leapt into the flame and she was gone in a flash of green haze.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry noticed the way his best friend seemed distracted throughout dinner and even while conversing with the guests, including Ginny. He had hoped that as the evening passed, she'd relax and perhaps seek him out to talk. But, it was approaching ten and other than the occasional conversation exchange they hadn't really spoken; which was odd unto itself.

Harry waited until Seamus stood and he serendipitously veered to sit beside her before she became engaged in another conversation, or at least the appearance of another one. It seemed as if she had been here merely killing time, mind obviously elsewhere.

"Hey," Harry sat down next to Hermione, jade eyes peering into that of his friend. "You alright?"

"Fine, bit tired, but otherwise; quite well."

"Ankle better?"

"Hardly noticeable," she countered, "Helena's daughter, Jordan, is a hell of a healer."

"Thought she had that dessert shop in Diagon Alley."

"Now, seems as though she used to be a healer."

"I'm sure a lot of healers left that occupation during Voldemort's reign."

Hermione nodded, not willing to divulge the true reason for Jordan's change of heart. She could see the regret upon Minerva's face, the loss upon Helena's – one event that had occurred within their family and the ripple that seemed to be unending. "I don't think it was Voldemort, so much as having to treat friends and loved ones."

"I can't imagine," honesty ringing from his voice, "especially Helena – each time Minerva is brought in must be absolutely…"

"Dreadful." Hermione finished before Harry had an opportunity.

Harry's brow involuntarily quirked at Hermione's comment but opted to forgo it and ask what he had wanted to yesterday. "How did you manage to follow Phillip through his apparation without touching him?"

"I stretched out my magic as he apparated," Hermione continued on unabated. "Was Gawain or another Auror from the Ministry able to garner any information?"

"He was just released to Ministry custody when I left work, they'll question him tomorrow afternoon."

"I'm surprised Gawain isn't there this evening conducting it."

"He would have, but Michael sent a directive that he had been released to Ministry care but no interrogation could be done until after noon on the first. Something about the volume of polyjuice and not able to get optimal effects from the Veritaserum; it is slated to begin at 12:01. What did you mean by stretching out your magic?"

"My magic enhanced his apparation, letting it spill across me and take me with him."

"Wicked," his mouth quirking into an appreciative grin. "McGonagall teach you that?"

"No," Hermione honestly stated, wishing she knew how Minerva had followed after her a full minute after she had apparated. It had to stem from the same basic premise that she had used. "I researched the effect after the incident with Ron at the Ministry when we were almost caught. Yakley followed us by catching Ron, but upon researching the effect; I discovered that if you are within two meters you can use your magical signature to enhance the apparation and take you with them."

"You really are amazing," Harry stated appreciatively, "I'd never had imagined it was possible to apparate in conjunction with someone without touching them."

"It is not recommended." Hermione expanded, "As you never know if the person you are following will land at the edge of a cliff and you will be free falling or splinch."

"Could be a significant problem."

"I'd say." Her words drifted off, and Harry waited – her attention again pulled internal to her own musings.

"Hermione," Harry leaned incrementally closer, laying his hand upon her knee. "What's troubling you?"

As if pulled back to the present, brown eyes again focused on her best friend. She feigned a smile and shook her head, "Nothing. Just tired."

"That might work on the others, but we've been through too much." He subtly cast a silencing spell, "More problems with Ron? Or the issue with Charlie from the other night and Molly?"

At his last question, her smile became genuine. "Molly is trying not to meddle."

"Is it working?"

"Marginally."

"And Ron?"

"He's being daft and losing his children – not counting his sudden desire to want me back after all these months." Exasperation lacing her voice, "Add into the fact that Charlie asked me out, flaring Ron's jealousy streak and I finally realized that I don't want him back."

Harry understood, "He asked you to go back with him."

"Yeah."

He could read her response and while he understood, he had harbored the hope that his two best friends would eventually reconcile. It appeared that would not be the case. "You said no."

"I can't go back to being the person I had become."

Slowly, he nodded. "I'm sorry that you won't be reconciling, love. But I think…you are making the right decision."

"Really?"

"You aren't Molly." He clasped his hand over hers, "And while I wish my best friends were getting back together; you are both better as friends than as lovers."

Hermione pulled him to her in a gripping bear hug. "I needed that." She whispered into his ear.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva felt the wards shift, causing her to pause mid-sentence; eyes involuntarily glancing to the clock – 10:33. _Probably Hermione returning from Harry's, _she thought but as she finished her sentence, she laid her quill down – an uneasy feeling tingling at the base of her spine.

"Dear?" Albus questioned, feeling her unease.

"Would you check the north entry door?" she gripped her walking stick as she gazed up to wall of portraits. "Elgin."

At once, he wearily appeared beside her. "Mistress?"

"Can you verify if Hermione has arrived and entered through the gates?"

He quirked his brow, golden eyes holding a question that went unasked as he vanished in a flash.

"The north door is sealed." Phinneas replied having visually inspected it already and having returned.

"There is no one coming up the path, Mistress."

Her unease grew exponentially, "Alert the portraits for an intruder." The entire gallery emptied at once, save for Albus, as Minerva turned to Elgin, "Inform the house elves and alert the ghosts."

Elgin was gone before she could take a breath, her eyes landed upon serene blue ones. "Inform Bonnie and wake the Ridge."

"Are you certain?"

"Something isn't right, Albus." She withdrew her wand. "There's someone upon the grounds."

"You aren't paranoid after what happened with Helena in conjunction with Rory's note?"

She pulled upon their bond, and at feeling the whole of her discomfort and unease – enhanced from her animagi counterparts; he didn't doubt her further and went to awaken the Ridge.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"I'll see you tomorrow." Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek.

"You sure you don't want to stay?"

"I do but I need to get back to Hogwarts before Minerva leaves so I can accompany her. I fear if I don't, she'll find a way to bar me from Helena's room."

An understanding smile lit his eyes, he knew as well as she how incredibly stubborn Minerva could be. And given how stressful the latter half of the year had been, in conjunction with what had happened yesterday morning; he more than understood Hermione's rationale in helping with the Harrison's protection. He had tried yesterday to be assigned to the detail, but Gawain had refused to reassign him much to his own chagrin. "Go, and I'll make your excuses."

She chuckled, "Just tell the family that I had to leave to have a torrid and steamy evening at St. Mungos; that'll liven up the evening."

"I do want to survive till midnight, so I may be a little less flavorful."

"That's good, I don't think I could take another howler from Ron."

"Are you bringing the children tomorrow?"

"Probably, I hadn't planned on mom and dad having them until Sunday as it was; but with everything going on…"

"I'm sure they are enjoying having them and if you need another option; know that we'll watch them."

"I refuse to put you and Ginny in the middle of what is happening between Ron and I."

"You aren't." He nudged her, "Now go before she leaves and the Harrison's room is warded and sealed."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva took a deep calming breath, hoping – praying that the feeling she had was only paranoia. However, knowing that it was far more.

Her eyes darted to the clock, 10:35.

And Salazar appeared – face riddled with uncharacteristic concern and her pulse skipped a beat.

_ They were here._

"Three wizards…"

Minerva's hand tightened upon her wand as Salazar continued, "along the western stairwell…" and she felt a deadening calm ripple through her, "…third floor."

Minerva summoned the whole of the warding structure, her hands glowing from the strain upon her magic as she relayed the information across Hogwarts. "Lock the portals to the dormitories and alert the professors that we have intruders." And with an uncharacteristic thunderous clap, her hands pulsed and Minerva vanished to the third floor, western stairwell.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Filius drew his evening robe about him as he summoned a strawberry, its tart bite reminiscent of his love. "I was thinking we should stay up all night."

Pomona's chuckle resonated from their bathroom, "Are you going to tend to the Greenhouses in the morning?"

"I hadn't planned on it." Filius jovially replied. "Nor had I planned on you _wanting_ to either."

"Hmmm…sounds enticing." Pomona grabbed her robe, "Will Minerva be back in the morning?"

"She's leaving to go to St. Mungos for the evening to assist in watching Helena's room and should be back before breakfast."

Pomona slid her arm into the robe as she stepped into their living room, "So we won't be disturbed…"

Rowena and Helga both materialized in a ghostly form; startling Filius and Pomona…voices harrowingly speaking in tune. "Intruders – three wizards along the western stairwell; two fourth floor north east stairwell."

Filius was already floating, "Where is Minerva?"

"Third floor…"

"Go!" Pomona was already summoning her wand as Filius sped towards the inner passageway door and the fourth floor.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Gentlemen, I believe you may have made a wrong turn." Minerva stated as she walked seemingly from the wall.

All three wizards eyes bulged at her sudden appearance; and before they could get over their shock, one lay stunned – face down. Her wand brandishing at a speed that defied possibility as her body moved as if she were a human animagus. Spells flew to the left and right, barely missing their mark; hair becoming unraveled as the flames extinguished from the torches and a ball of fire swept down the hallway – morphing at the last minute into a thousand fiery daggers…peppering the second wizard; Blaine Stevens.

Oliver Vance retreated down the stairwell, blond hair fluttering behind him and before Minerva could follow; Godric appeared in the portrait to her left.

"There are three more groups; two of them are heading towards the second floor."

"The Heart." Minerva murmured as her eyes flickered to the stairwell and then back to Godric. "Damn." She snapped and without thought pulled the wards to her and apparated to the second floor; south corridor. She rounded the hallway as two wizards and a witch stopped before the tapestry and the locking mechanism that led to the Heart.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione opened the gates and felt a strange pulse shoot through her system and before she could ascertain what had been the cause; Godric's voice resonated around her.

_"Intruders have entered Hogwarts. Five groups sighted – two heading to the second floor, one upon the fourth, one upon the third, last toward the dungeons."_

Hermione bolted forward into a dead run, "Milksy!" She called into the frozen night's air.

Milksy appeared ahead of her, "Lady –"

"Third floor…"

Milksy required no additional prompting as a swell of magic swirled around her and the next step she was grabbing at the stairwell to prevent herself from falling head first after one of the intruders. Hermione sent a paralyzing curse and felt a wave of satisfaction as the man stumbled downward, unconscious – blond hair spilling about his frame.

Hermione spun around; and at once flicked her wrist to re-light the hallway and winced at seeing one man dead and another unconscious. _Minerva must have been here already, _she thought as she called for Milksy as there wasn't any Professor who could come and go through Hogwarts as she could.

She reappeared, "Lady Hermione?"

"Can you have the house elves collect the unconscious or stunned bodies and place them somewhere secure?"

Milksy glanced to where the body had been, "We'se already taking care of its."

* * *

oxox

* * *

There was no hesitation, Minerva sent a series of spells forward; and as they retaliated her eyes saw a flicker of movement to the left of the statue 15 meters ahead. Her eyes focused on the shadowed areas as it was momentarily lit up from the curses flying towards her; and her heart stopped.

Samantha.

"Elgin!" Minerva willed him to her, as she adjusted her counter-attack; a curse slicing along the top of her shoulder so as it wasn't sent in Samantha's direction.

"Mistress…"

The percussion of the curses striking the protego charm was deafening as she sent a flurry of spikes half-heartedly back. She needed time.

"Take Samantha –"

"Johannes has just gone to the Manor!" Albus interjected from beside her.

_The Manor?_

Minerva felt utterly and truly torn. Eyes flashing from the three persons at the end of the hall, her granddaughter, and her need to get to the Manor.

"Find Filius…" Minerva dodged another spell feeling the elasticity in her fingers beginning to dissipate. "Get him to the Manor!"

"Hermione has returned…" Elgin added.

"Take her as well…!" Minerva screamed out as she transformed the fire at the tips of her fingers into smoke which washed over her as Elgin's magic echoed through her, signifying he had apparated.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Johannes, Alfred Smythe, Yvnne Mual and Douglass Darrin strode from the den and suddenly stopped as a small house elf appeared in their way.

"Stop!"

Johannes didn't bat an eye as he sent a killing curse into the young elf, a green bolt flew into his tiny body as his hand touched the Manor, preventing him from calling for reinforcements.

"This way." Johannes motioned for them to head up the steps towards the library.

"You are sure it is here?"

"Quite," his long legs taking two stairs at a time, "she has two shelves devoted to ancient texts and half are written by the Founders; including the one we need."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Elgin appeared just as Filius and Marx defended themselves and without asking, he reached out and took Filius' arm; drawing the wizards' gaze to him. "You are needed elsewhere."

Clemons opened his mouth to say that he was needed there, but it mattered little as Elgin reached forward and they swept from the fourth floor; reappearing three floors below and in front of Lady Hermione causing her to stop sprinting towards the obvious wizard's duel.

"Johannes has gone to the Manor." Elgin exhaled as he reached outward to touch Hermione, "The Mistress needs you both to go in her stead." And Elgin pictured the foyer of the Manor as his hand touched Hermione's arm and he felt his magic strain as he disapparated taking the witch and wizard in tow.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva leapt forward, changing into her Tabby form mid-air and darting through and around the oncoming spells; her nails digging into the stone, ignoring the stiffness and pain in her paws, as she fought to gain any leverage she could to propel herself forward, faster. She felt one curse singe the side of her tail as she scampered along the edge of the wall, farthest from Samantha; not wanting any curses near her 'granddaughter'.

_Please, s_he thought, lunging forward as a plasma blast shot from Sully's wand. She could smell Samantha's fear, hear the roar of the energy as it ripped down the hallway singing the very air and with every ounce of willpower she dove heedlessly forward.

Her body morphing as she stretched out, right shoulder striking the stone hard as she tumbled forward into a roll nicking the wound upon her left shoulder as her feet landed upon the floor her momentum propelling her upright as switched her wand to her left hand. She reached outward to Samantha with her right hand as the plasma bolt singed the edge of the armor a half-meter from Samantha…

"NANA!"

* * *

oxox

* * *

The first thing Hermione saw was Zyi's lifeless body lying on the floor of the Manor.

Elgin's grip remained upon Filius and Hermione as he gazed about the Manor, feeling the wards; and then turning to both the witch and wizard. "They be upstairs, he must not get the book."

"What book?" Hermione and Filius said as one.

"The Founder's book." Elgin replied as he let them go, "Hurry, I will call for assistance."

Hermione knew better than to ask any further questions, Filius had already levitated his body; and both darted up the steps as Elgin apparated away.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Potter!" Severus bellowed out over the festivities.

"Har'y, your painting is calling for you!" Ron relayed as he ambled forward.

"Snape, you do know how to dampen…"

"Hogwarts is under attack." He snapped as soon as he could tell it was one of the Weasleys.

Ron's eyes widened disbelieving, "Surely you jest, its New Year's Eve."

Harry tore down the hall, "What's wrong?"

"He says Hogwarts is under attack." Ron repeated, disbelieving.

Harry spun around to the portrait, "How long ago?"

"Minutes ago."

"Number of intruders?"

"Harry, you don't actually believe him…"

"We've seen fifteen witches and wizards; one's been killed, two incapacitated."

"Yes, Ron – I do." Harry stated, suddenly very sober.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena nestled into Harold's neck, "You sure you want to wait to take the dreamless draught."

"I'd like to wish her a Happy New Year." His chest rumbled in response, the meaning not lost on either one. Previously they had planned on celebrating the whole of the evening with Minerva, even Rory had consented to join them; a celebration of life as it were. One of the few evenings and subsequent mornings that they all could be assured to not have plans before the end.

"You're just hoping she brings something to toast it to."

"Ohh, I have no doubt she will."

"You are as incorrigible as she," Helena murmured into his skin. "Wake me in ten minutes."

"How 'bout a quarter to twelve so you can toast in the New Year too?"

"Hmmmhmmm." She adjusted her head, needing to shift the pressure from the weight. "That's fine."

Gently Harold ran his hand through her hair, "Yes, you are, love."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva drew a semi-circle forward with her left hand as Samantha lunged from behind the armor into her right arm, Samantha's book bag falling to the floor, forgotten. The plasma bolt liquefied the statue, burning across her skin as she swung her left arm forward completing the circle and protego charm; the plasma bolt arcing against the defensive shield as the fury of red energy rushed over them, Samantha clutching her waist.

"You alright?" Minerva questioned as she pushed Samantha behind her and stepped away from the singed wall as she exchanged her wand into her right hand. Her fingers barely wrapping around the aged wood and she felt an unwelcome rush of nausea at the notion of casting any more spells this evening.

"Yes," Samantha replying automatically to her Nana's voice despite her shock.

"There are three of us, against you and a student. Give up McGonagall, you can't hope to defeat us before we reach the Heart."

"We'll see…" Minerva remarked, and at Samantha's tug upon her robes she heard her granddaughter's voice.

"I can help…Nana." Samantha stated, a slight quiver lacing her words.

"Staying behind me and alive is helping, love." Minerva quietly replied before she quelled her stomach and levitated the ash along the hall before her and in the next flick; transformed the ash into bludgers...

* * *

oxox

* * *

Johannes quickly scanned the markings, stopping to the left of the mantle. "Here."

Yvnne remained by the door, wand drawn; jaw still slacked in awe at the size of Minerva McGonagall's library as he turned to where Johannes was pointing to Douglass and Alfred.

"Revelo." Douglass cast and at first Alfred didn't believe it had worked; but then he heard a slow creaking noise and the bookcase before them moved.

"She has more?" She murmured, dumbfounded how she could possibly have so many books. "Do you think she's read all these?"

"Yes," Johannes answered as the first spines of her ancient text began to be revealed. "She has, and thousands more which are kept at her other homes."

"This isn't her only home?" Yvnne turned to Johannes, eyes breaking from the doorway.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Bonnie!" Elgin bellowed as he entered the property.

"Oh why do you always…"

"Harkiss is at the Manor!" He breathed out with his next gasp, "His men at Hogwarts. Minerva is at Hogwarts, Filius and Hermione the Manor –"

Bonnie's hand was already flush against the wall, calling upon all those loyal to the McGonagall family. "Go to Hogwarts, we shall assist the Manor."

Elgin's hand darted out grabbing her arm, "They have already killed Zyi; and are after one of the Founder's texts."

"You need to be careful too." Bonnie stated as elves began appearing all around Elgin. They shared one more look and Elgin snapped his fingers to take him back to Hogwarts.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione didn't see the stunning spell leave Filius' wand; but she saw the bolt speed into the woman who had turned her head towards the inner part of the library in conversation as they came to the top of the steps.

The woman turned back around just as the spell slammed into his chest, knocking her back into the library.

"Stay focused." Filius stated, not stopping as he zoomed headfirst into the library.

_Right,_ Hermione thought following suite; only to see the room was empty. "Where are they?"

Filius heard the upper door close, "The stairs."

Hermione spun around and ran through the door, ducking as a killing curse struck the doorframe; showering her in splinters. _That was close,_ she thought as she charged after them, Filius miraculously speeding beside her…

The wind blowing through his hair as he swirled his wand and let loose spell after spell after the retreating figures.

"He has something within his hand!" Hermione jumped down the remaining stairs, ankle catching and she dipped her shoulder backward barely avoiding a killing curse as the two wizards closed ranks letting Johannes escape to the den.

Filius and Hermione met Douglass and Alfred in a frenzied fight, neither one giving ground. Curses littered the hall as they refracted off shield charms; bursting the wood paneling apart –

Hermione traded spell for spell with Douglass, his speed equitable to her own; his strength in charms which she countered with transfiguration and vice versa. As she countered his fire-charmed lasso with smoke, she felt her hand begin to tingle.

_Not now._

And he took advantage of her momentary lapse in concentration and spun the smoke into a python. Hermione felt her chest constrict from the python's grip, erasing her momentary concern regarding her hand with a far more immediate problem as she peripherally saw Filius gaining the upper-hand. "Ahhh…" She ignored the pain and lack of breath as she transfigured the rug beneath his feet into quicksand.

"What…" His arms momentarily flying outward to steady himself.

She focused on the spell crushing her ribs, _What would Minerva do to counter this?_ And as she gasped for another breath, she transfigured the smoky python into a huge hawk barreling towards him; the immense pressure upon her ribs easing. Vaguely, she saw Filius' opponent falling forward stunned; as Douglass managed to charm the hawk to fly over him, lifting him from the quicksand as he sent the killing curse at her. She could feel the protego charm upon her lips, arm beginning to cast the spell, when the tingling in her hand spread like wildfire up her arm and into her chest.

"Ahhh…" She cried out, tears instantly springing into her eyes as she desperately tried to cast the protego charm to save her life.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Samantha had known that her Nana was an expert dualist. Had heard fantastical stories of what she was capable of, how she rivaled the 'Great Albus Dumbledore'. She had even believed her Nana was still capable of doing such spell work, much like her Grandma. But unlike Grandma Harrison, where she could _see_ the results after the spell had been cast; it was harder for her and the others to believe that their Nana was just as capable. She hadn't lost a step like she heard her Aunt Tessa say.

If anything, she was faster than the whole of the family; even her Grandpa.

She stood behind her in utter and complete awe, no longer the slightest bit worried that Nana would beat the wizards at the far end of the hall and keep them safe.

Her mother would never believe what she was witnessing, that was – of course, if she ever got out of detention to tell her.

She watched as Nana transfigured the molten metal into daggers and super charm the air to melt frozen spires prior to reaching them. The small puddle of water morphed into a tidal wave which she hurled forward; and then she reached backward grasping Samantha's arm as she spun around casting a protego charm to avoid them both being struck by several curses.

And, Samantha's heart sank as she realized that there were still two men at the one end by the flag and another two rushing towards them. In less than a minute, they were going to be surrounded.

"I promise to never stay out after curfew again…." She whispered, not knowing how Nana could fight wizards on two sides and keep them both safe.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva felt her charm buckle as she gazed down the length of the corridor to see Sully on the verge of opening the doorway to the Heart; and all thought ceased.

She was out of options.

She had to prevent them from accessing the heart, no matter the cost.

Minerva's head whipped from the left to the right, wand casting protego charms upon both sides; "Follow me backwards." Minerva yelled over the deafening percussion of the curses striking the charms.

Minerva took four steps back, driving her granddaughter to the wall's edge; where they had been only minutes before. Minerva wandlessly summoned the tapestry from the wall to her left that had been enchanted and escaped the plasma fire feeling her magic pull as she did; while transforming the blob of metal to her right into two sets of armor and sent them charging forward before turning her focus to the scene within the tapestry and the dragon which she charmed to life.

"Wow!"

Minerva's eyes darted to the upper hallway structure to both the left and right, and then glanced behind her. "No matter what happens, do not move."

"Nana?"

"Do not move." She reiterated as she drew a protective semi-circle just off center from the one she had cast to shield them from the plasma bolt. Green eyes locked upon blue ones, and Samantha's grew as wide as Hugo's when he first saw his puppy could turn into a bird as she realized the direness of their situation.

"I won't." She affirmed as Minerva turned away ignoring the cruciatus curses spiraling towards her by Duncan as Sully opened the door.

Minerva could feel the stiffness in her joints growing as she pulled upon the entire breadth of her magic; feeling the warding crack, stones shift, and as she felt the tingle within her body grow…she pushed ahead ignoring how it traveled up her arm and into her chest…and did the unthinkable – she summoned every ounce of stone to her, shattering the entire sub-structure of the hallway, save for the half circle behind her.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Bonnie appeared as a bolt of green shot towards Hermione, hand limply holding her wand; face riddled with pain as slurred words stumbled from her lips.

She could feel the wards shifting all around her as house elves began apparating onto the Manor's property, her mind solely upon the scene before her. She saw Filius' wand moving, a charm speeding forward and Bonnie felt her heart clench. Without reservation, she snapped her fingers and disapparated.

It was a strange notion, really; to have lived ones life for as long as she had. To have seen so many loved ones pass beyond the veil, and yet she had always remained. She had always been there, doing as Madame Katherine had bid her to do – protect her child, Minerva.

The years passed as did young Minerva's childhood as she grew into a headstrong woman, whose needs had changed – no longer defenseless but still requiring a modicum of assistance and Bonnie had remained steadfast and unyielding. She had done as she had been asked to do; decades passing by. Minerva giving birth to her children, and her children giving birth to grandchildren; and still Bonnie remained vigilant and ever watchful.

She had always believed she'd die saving the Mistress, and then either the Master or Mistress until their children were born; but fate had been ironic, it had taken not just one child but two. It had stolen the life of her grandchild and that of her husband; and in each instance, Bonnie would have happily traded her life for theirs. However, there had been no notice, no warning – only death and the after effects. She had watched how Minerva had struggled with each passing, each time taking longer and longer to rejoin the land of the living; and each time Bonnie swore that it would be the last. She had been there to protect Minerva and she would do so, in everyway that she could.

Even now as Minerva rushed into the twilight of her life, Bonnie continued onward – protecting her and all that she held dear.

And who would of thought, now, of all times, she'd fulfill the role Madame Katherine had charged her with. She'd die, not protecting Minerva, her husband, children, grandchildren, but a woman that while not her lover – she loved.

Bonnie reappeared just in front of Hermione as a painfilled sob left the witch's lips, the spell upon her lips lost as her wand clattered to the floor and the killing curse only centimeters from her body.

It was surreal, really; knowing you are going to die. Knowing that there is no hope. Knowing…that all the worries of this world will have been left behind in less than a blink.

She thought it would hurt as the first tendrils of the spell washed over her, but Filius' spell had intersected the curse, and the effect had been immediate. Her body flying backwards into Hermione from the discharge of the colliding spells; and she was able to take another breath, fate not quite done with her.

Filius pushed on, ignoring how close Bonnie or Hermione had come to dying, the temperature in the room plummeting as he charmed the sconces to grow arms and shoot outward to grab Douglass. He countered the charm with his own as rays of sun spilled across the Manor's foyer growing blindingly bright…

Bonnie snapped her fingers, a mirror instantly refracting the light and Douglass held up his left hand; able to see that he would quickly be outnumbered and he dropped his hand, yanking a broach from his robe as he called out, "Home." And he was gone.

Filius nullified the charms as Bonnie turned around, "Hermione?"

The witch in question had managed to push herself onto her knees, breaths coming out in partial gasps.

"Hermione," Filius partially knelt, gazing into her tear stained face, "are you alright?"

She blinked through the tears, nodding. "It's getting better…" She finally managed taking in another deep breath. "The tingling that sometimes happens…" she stared at Filius, "It was overwhelming."

Concern flared in Filius' chest, "Is it still there?"

Hermione absently nodded, "Only my hand…" Her voice still breathless.

"Is this like before?"

Hermione was about to say yes, when Filius jerked his hand from her shoulder as if burnt.

"Ahhh…" His eyes widened and he collapsed to his knees.

"Filius!" Both Hermione and Bonnie reached forward and Filius pushed himself upright, pain evident upon his face.

"I must get to Hogwarts!" He breathed out, golden eyes latching upon brown ones. "Now!"

Bonnie didn't need an additional prompt, pulling her magic to her as she strained to apparate both Filius and Hermione to Hogwarts. Unlike normal, she could feel the wizard guiding where he wished to be taken…

And the walls of the school began to take shape, a gravelly smoke filling the air…as the sounds of shifting rock rumbled through stairwell.

Hermione went to step forward, Bonnie's hand latching onto her robe and stabilizing her as her foot landed upon air. "Oh my…God." She breathed out, as her eyes processed the devastation and stepped back onto solid ground.

The entire floor…walls…everything within the immediate area; gone.

Filius was standing, wand already extending outward; and with several strokes and a flick, the smoke swirled and then cleared with a flourish – enabling them to see that the entire hall had come down…

"Samantha!" Hermione called out, immediately recognizing the young woman leaning over the edge of what amounted to a 'free standing' pillar gazing downward into the rubble. She was upon the only part of the entire western corridor that had remained, standing. It appeared as if it had been carved out, wall and all, a semi-circle of protection.

_But that wouldn't have happened…unless someone had been there to place a protective spell._

As if in slow motion, the young woman's head began turning...

Elgin appearing beside them, breathless…

As Samantha's grief filled face lifted upright.

_And who would have that kind of skill?_

Her small hand pointing downwards as the events crystallized with Samantha's broken voice crying out, "Nana!" She gasped brokenly aloud.

At once, four sets of eyes followed where she was pointing…

A horrific sob leaving her lips as she called out again, "Nana!"

And Hermione felt her world stop as her eyes fastened upon a torn piece of cloak that at one time would have been considered emerald amongst the rubble.

* * *

_xoxo_


	77. An Interlude: Somewhere Btn There & Here

_**An interlude…existing somewhere between here & there.**_

A flash of blinding light pierced the blackness as a white-hot pain enveloped her chest…

…

Another flash sparked across her vision…illuminating glowing eyes staring down at her as she tried to breath or even speak but the mere thought of movement caused the world to blacken, again.

…

…

"_You must remain coherent."_ A deep baritone voice resonated through her.

And she vainly tried to blink open an eye, the effort seeming herculean for such a small action.

"_Open."_ It commanded and after another failed attempt, she tried to respond; but the pain in her chest caused her a moan to fill the air – and slowly, she realized that the moan was hers.

"_I cannot heal you at this time, but you must fight and stay alive until I can."_

And she felt the pain in her chest lessen as ethereal fingers caressed her skin, until the pain abated enough and she could open her right eye to a world of gray, soot, rock and rubble…along with blurry, albeit glowing face…of _Hogwarts _amongst the rubble_._

"_That's it." _ He remarked as he brought his face and mystical eyes closer, floating through the stone. _"Don't talk." _ He shifted, and despite her horrid vision; she could see he looked to be in discomfort and that his chest appeared…wet somehow. _"Yes, I was injured as well…"_

Despite his warning, Minerva pushed a word forward. "W…h.y?" She could vaguely feel moisture running down her cheek and from how she appeared to be laying and what lay atop her…it was in all likelihood, blood.

"_You are a brave woman, Minerva McGonagall; one whom I owe my life."_ He laid his hand upon her cheek as her eye fluttered close, _"Stay with me."_

Minerva could feel her muscles relaxing as the world shifted and she lost the fight as blackness consumed her.

…

Another flash of light pierced her vision as a wheeze of breath forced oxygen into her lungs.

"_That's it." _ He cooed as he watched her eyelids flutter before her face went slack, again.

…

Bright white light blinded her world…as _his _voice murmured in the distance and Minerva swallowed, having begun measuring time at each paralyzing moment of consciousness that was marked by the startling sensation of unfettered pain and blinding light.

It could have been minutes or hours or days that passed; she only knew it had been 78 times that she could remember or bothered remembering, having not counted the first…Merlin knew how many when his cadence and presence faltered and the overbearing pain in her chest seemed to expand and a whimper formed in her throat but the blood stopped the sound as a wet trail of tears dampened her cheeks.

"_They…" _his voice becoming clear, but riddled with pain as well, _"are moving the stone, it'll be just a little longer._"

And then his clear cadence broke apart as he wailed and the soul wrenching pain seared across her chest, burning the air she tried to breath and she willingly embraced the blackness, again.

* * *

_Xoxo_

* * *

_a/n: a note before we begin the 'next' year –_

_1. As previously stated, I have __every_ _intention of completing this story – hopefully in less time than it took me to get this far. But….we'll see._

_2. I truly do try and respond to most reviews, but there are times where I don't and I greatly apologize if that happens. It is definitely not intentional._

_3. My work schedule is beyond crazy (average of 50+ hrs weekly) and I spend most of my free time writing in between the mundane activities of eating, sleeping and the never-ending pile of laundry. So, while I do try and update with great regularity, please understand it takes an average of 25-30 hours per chapter. A good day and the writing is flowing is about a page (500 words) an hour to write. (e.g. A twenty page chapter equals a minimum of 20 hours to write another 3-5 hours to proof and reformat.) And, I just can't get them done any faster._

_4. If there is an interest; over the next several chapters I will insert names of actor/actresses who I envision Helena, Harold, Tessa, Rory or the others would be portrayed by; if this were a movie._

_5. And probably the most important and something I rarely speak of because by nature I am a very private person, but I'd like to say – I couldn't have made it this far without the constant loving feedback, endless support and willingness to watch and listen to a handful of movies with marvelous musical scores in the background that I am able to write to from a very special person in my life. So thank you from the bottom of my heart and all of my fans hearts because of how many times you have had to watch/listen to Kingdom of Heaven, Last Samurai, Last of the Mohicans, Braveheart, Gladiator, BSG and a handful of others…and all the times you'll have to listen to them in the future as I try to finish a once 80-100 page story that has morphed into this would be epic._


	78. Chapter 75 January 1st, 2010

_a/n: I do hope you can pardon me that this picks up just before 12am..._**  
**

**Chapter 75 ~ January 1****st****, 2010 (Friday)**

Even from his perched distance, Harry could see Hermione and another willowy figure sprinting across the quidditch pitch after three others; streams of curses and hexes reflecting off the snow as he forced his broom to go – faster.

The wind cut through his robes as though they weren't there; as he hadn't taken the time to change into his heavier, thicker, riding ones. He opened his mouth to scream watch out; but the chattering of his teeth prevented him, and it was too late. The willow figure fell.

And he felt his heart lurch at seeing a fourth person stride from behind the stands where the errant bolt had originated causing Hermione to draw to a stop.

_No!_

The moon's radiance enabling him to see Hermione lifting her hands up, as if she were going to give up.

He brought his wand out, still too far to do any good as the other three had turned and were know approaching her in a circle. But still…he had to try as her wand fell to the snow laden earth.

And as a spell was about to leave his wand, he bore witness to the fantastical – the person had cast a spell, it had charged forward, toward Hermione and missed.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione felt the cold air rush into her lungs as she gasped as a bolt behind and to the left of her felled Marx. She hadn't been able to see what spell had struck him, or if he was alive; her own welfare hanging precariously in the balance as she spun around to see who his attacker was.

Her jaw dropped, "Myriam?"

"Another move and Marx dies."

"What…!" Shock lacing her every thought, losing her concentration on the other intruders. "Why? I thought you and Rolanda…"

"You'd never understand Hermione." She motioned for Hermione to raise her hands. "And if you and Marx hadn't been so fool hardy, no one would have been the wiser. Now, drop your wand."

"You're the one who snuck Harkiss into Hogwarts." Hermione felt the last tendrils of friendship give way to contempt for the woman less than 10 meters away from her. "How could you?"

"They were supposed to be in and out, no one hurt." Myriam pointed to her wand, "Drop it."

Hermione swallowed back the bile in her throat as the shattered image of Hogwarts hall and Minerva's robe flashed; "What was Minerva?" Her voice breaking as she clipped, "An accident?"

Myriam's jaw flexed, "Last time Hermione, drop it."

"Or what? I have an accident?"

"Ohh, you'll have an accident Granger." A deep voice drawled from behind.

"But we'll spare Marx's life." Myriam countered.

Hermione forced her fingers to relinquish her grip on her wand, brown eyes fixed upon Myriam as it fell to the snow. "If I live through this, so help me God; I _will_ find you for what you did."

"You won't remember a thing before this moment." The man to her left sneered, nodding to Myriam.

"Good-bye Hermione." Myriam stated and with an imperceptible flick of her wand, a memory charm flew at Hermione.

Hermione stared at Myriam for another heartbeat before she reacted, dipping her right shoulder back, and doing what Minerva had trained her to. Avoid being struck by a curse.

_Minerva…_

The singular word had sent a ripple of emotion through her…a ripple she couldn't cope with right now as it felt like it would strangle the very life's breath from her lungs. She had banished the notion, feelings and worry surrounding the woman who…at the very moment was hopefully still alive, when Filius had informed her that no one could enter the corridor. He had to ensure the warding and internal structural integrity would hold and not cause any additional structural collapses before they could learn of Minerva's fate. She had stood, staring over the edge of the hallway, unable to move for more than a minute before Filius had repeated his statement to her again – and perhaps a third time before she had heard.

"_Hermione, I need you to secure Hogwarts so I can remain here."_

And she had done that. Desperately trying not to think of what was going on in the hallway, if Filius had been able to secure the structural integrity, if Minerva was still alive…

Her thought process reeled as she inwardly answered, _she has to be, she can't not be. _And as the bolt skimmed by her cheek, she forced herself back to the more immediate concern; not getting herself killed or worse yet; alive but without a memory. As neither of those would help Minerva, nor her children, or…Hogwarts…

And she focused on the here and now, as rustling movements erupted behind her in conjunction with Myriam and the wizard to her left...and she tried to see them all as spells began fluttering along the air – and she was in a dance, to save her life.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Arthur felt his jaw drop at the devastation, "Merlin…" He breathed out unconsciously as Pomona's hand stopped him from progressing farther.

"It's not safe past here, Minister."

Blue eyes blinked again and again, before he managed a coherent thought. "Was anyone hurt?" He asked at seeing a small child thirty meters away upon a lone pillar.

"We believe the Headmistress…" Pomona fought to keep her voice steady, "is beneath the wreckage along with several of the intruders."

If at all possible, Pomona watched Arthur's eyes grow larger. "Has there been any sign that she may be alive?"

"No, but Filius…" Her husband sped from the bowels of Hogwarts, looking ashen; but determined as his short statured body levitated over the rubble at an incredible pace. Within seconds, he was standing next to the Samantha.

"Sinistra," the fatigue evident in his voice, "alert Poppy that we're about ready."

Golden eyes met weary blue ones, "Miss Mauer, I'm going to levitate you to where Professor Sprout is. It is very important that you do not fight the spell."

"What about…" she involuntarily glanced to the pile of debris. "Nana?"

"After you are secure, the Professors will begin removing the stone and we'll find her."

"I didn't mean…" Her lip trembled, "I just wanted a few more books from the library."

"This had absolutely nothing to do with you." Filius reassured, "Now…keep your eyes focused on me."

"But I want to help." She tightened her fingers around the handle of her wand.

Filius inwardly sighed, acutely aware that time was of the essence. "By going with Professor Elks and relaying what happened; that will help us immeasurably."

"Alright."

Filius didn't wait, his wand was already up; slicing through the air at a tremendous speed and then she, like he had been, was levitating above the rubble. Her speed across the expanse was not as pronounced, but in under thirty seconds, she was standing next to Arthur, Pomona, Liannia and the other professors who were not receiving medical treatment.

He waited until Liannia guided Samantha around the corner before speaking, "The integrity will hold, however, the area we are in remains unstable; including the area I am currently standing."

"What do you propose?" Arthur asked, wand already out.

"A miracle." Filius quietly remarked to himself before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "That I start lifting the rubble and each of you dispel it as it rises up using each of your own disciplines or areas you feel comfortable."

"What of Minerva or any others?"

"We won't be able…"

"Elgin and Bonnie have consented to transport any persons out that we unearth."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harold glanced at the clock as he nodded to the nurse who had just poured four cups of sparkling grape juice, it was five till twelve. "Thank you."

Helena stirred, yawning. "Minerva here?"

"No, love. She hasn't arrived."

She went to nestle into his chest, "What time is it?"

"Almost twelve."

"Hmmm…" Despite her fatigue, she pushed herself upright, trying to curtail the sudden wave of anxiety she felt. "Something must have come up."

"I'm sure she's fine." His voice rumbled in reassurance.

She narrowed her eyes at the cups to their left, "Did she send a note?"

"She'll be here any minute; you know that she does like to make an entrance."

Helena chuckled, "She's probably downstairs explaining why a bottle of port is necessary."

"Or scaring your staff into compliance to enable her to bring it up here." He let his hand gently rub across her back.

"Ohh…I hope you're wrong." She murmured, inwardly praying that her dearest friend wasn't lying years of St. Mungos rules to waste within minutes.

"In that she won't do that or that your staff won't capitulate?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. There, in the middle of four wizards, his best friend looked to be dancing to some type of choreographed routine – as spells fluttered all around, beneath, and to the side of her. It was breathtaking to watch – not only regarding her safety but also because of the sheer fluidity and way she moved. Each spell seemed to barely miss, just to the left or right, and he clutched his wand _tighter_.

Shaking his disbelief, he focused on the closest adversary to him; and sent a paralyzing hex, eyes still fixed upon Hermione. Four seconds later, he was now within yelling distance, and one foe had landed to the earth; paralyzed.

"Hermione…" Her name tearing from his throat against the frigid air, causing the other three persons to glance towards him to their fallen comrade and then back to Hermione – whose hand now held a wand.

At once, spells were exchanged; and the three persons who had been relentlessly attacking Hermione began to sprint towards the forest – all in different directions.

"Stop Myriam!" Hermione parried spell after spell as she fired after them. He could tell she was choosing to go after the black-garbed wizard first, as he was the closest to her.

Harry sped past her, snow flourishing along the ground as he veered towards the witch just beyond Hermione. But then he felt his body flying through the air, no longer being supported by his broom.

_Oh shit!_ He thought, as he cast a cushioning charm on himself only a moment before he landed in a snowdrift.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione ducked as a spell flew overhead, wand arcing in retaliation as she drew up a wall of snow and without thought, transfigured it to steam. The wizard screamed from the sheer heat surrounding him as he tried to send a haphazard spell at her but, it went array as his own body became paralyzed and fell forward into the frozen ground – Hermione already sprinting towards where she had seen Harry ripped off his broom.

"Harry!"

"Go…" Came a muffled reply before her friend materialized in sodden clothes and dripping wet as he stepped from what appeared a lake. He had melted the snow, and with a flick; his clothes and body were again dry.

"Come on…" She veered by him, reaching down and pulling him up onto the foot and a half foot of snow that blanketed the pitch. "Myriam's getting away."

"Myriam…?"

Hermione pointed to the figure at the cusp of the Forbidden Forest to the left, "Hooch's wife, she let Harkiss in tonight."

"What of…" Harry indicated to the right, "her?"

The moon's rays glinted across the pearly landscape, sparkling in the night and both figures moved quickly into the forest.

"You get her?"

Harry reached over grasping her forearm, "Be careful."

She swung her head around, brown eyes filled with a chasm of worry and something else met olive green eyes as she sincerely stated. "You too." And they were off.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Filius levitated his body and brought himself closer to the rubble and glanced to the growing number of Professor's, eyes landing upon his wife's form. The worry plastered upon her face mirrored what beat in his heart.

"Ready?" His voice exuding a sense of confidence he didn't feel, as he couldn't guarantee the rest of this area wouldn't completely collapse. The only thing he was certain of was that the rest of the school was stable.

"Will you be able to hold the levitation charm while you cast additional levitation spells upon the rubble?" Pomona's concern evident in her voice.

"Just be ready." He replied, ignoring her question; because truthfully he didn't know. It had been years since he had practiced this type of magic – and it had been because of Minerva he had even tried. His eyes landed upon soot covered remnant of emerald robe and swallowed back the tears, forcing his levitation charm to hold as he lifted his wand –

_Please be alive, _he thought and cast the first of what he knew would be many spells; and he felt his body sinking as hundreds of pounds of rock lifted upwards. Decades of practice helped him buoy his body as sweat poured from his brow, the strain upon his magic causing his wand arm to begin shaking when he felt his wife's magic prickle across his skin – soothing his soul; and the weight of the rocks dissipate as long tendrils of vines spun down the hall holding the rubble where the previous floor had been. Vaguely, Filius noticed that the other professors began turning the stones within the vines into all types of materials, as he continued levitating more and more rock…and Pomona's plants continued to catch each one, even if he wasn't able to lift them as far as the last set…

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione stuck her fingers out, catching the edge of a stone – tips of her fingers burning as she pushed onward; noting that Myriam had veered more towards where the other witch and Harry were darting through the winter thicket. At times, she could see spells flying between Harry and she; while Myriam remained just a bit too far ahead. She'd see shadows of her figure, making her way past the initial forest and along the edge hoping to get past the wards that stretched deep into the forest.

"Ahh…." A loud yelp, cried from where Harry had only been moments before.

"Harry!" She called out and while she _wanted_ to capture Myriam, _it_ could wait. She couldn't lose Harry, too. Not tonight, not with Minerva's life hanging in the balance. And she broke off in her pursuit of the damnable witch and sprinted towards Harry, legs burning as her muscles screamed in protest – numb fingers barely clutching the end of her wand as she jumped around an outcropping of rocks; breath eschewing from her lungs at the blood curdling scene.

"Stop," Hermione gasped, breathless. "He's with me."

Tenien's bow slackened, knowing the witch's voice. "And the other woman? She smells of Hogwarts so we believed she was a Professor's mate and have let her through…"

"No," Hermione interjected, "she's the one who let Johannes into the castle tonight."

"Are you sure?" Black eyes met hers.

"Yes," Hermione answered, and Tenien's muscles flexed and with one glance back to the wizard and Minerva's friend his body leapt forward, and he galloped away at an incredible pace – others following in his wake, leaving them alone. "You alright?"

"Another minute, I wouldn't have been." He moved ahead to the witch whose body had been peppered with Centaur arrows, blood still coloring the snow. "I take it, that when Minerva reported the Forest had become exceedingly dangerous, she meant from all levels." He noticed the way her face fell, "What is it?"

Hermione glanced toward the hallowed Castle, "Minerva," she whispered, "I've got to get back."

"What about the body?"

Hermione took a step forward, "Can you bring it? Along with the wizard you paralyzed on the field?"

"Hermione," cool fingers grasped hers, "what is it?"

"Minerva," Hermione turned back and met Harry's gaze, "she pulled an entire corridor down upon her to stop Merlin knows how many intruders."

His eyes widened, "Is she alright?"

A hollow answer spilled from the depths of her soul, "Merlin, Harry…I don't know how she could be." Her voice breaking as tears filled his eyes, "There was dust, rubble…" she fell into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, "everywhere."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Filius felt his concentration lapse and only centimeters away from cracking his own skull was he able to right himself, not willing to lose the stone he had been lifting – lest it fall back upon the one person he didn't want to further injure if she was still alive.

He didn't dare glance back to her face, knowing that he would lose control of not only one levitation charm; but undoubtedly both. He felt Pomona's spellwork take the large boulder and at once, lifted the other large one pinning Minerva.

"Elgin…" His voice sounding incredibly strained to his own ears and before he could blink, he heard a deafening crack below him and then a succeeding one almost two seconds later signifying that he had already come and gone.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Poppy tried not to choke as a billow of soot appeared in time with Elgin's petite form and…Minerva.

"Where…?"

Poppy pointed to the area upon the floor she had only cleaned moments ago, eyes already scanning Minerva and she inwardly cringed at the dark blood seeping from her mouth, ashen palor of her skin and the blue hue along the tips of her fingers.

In a sweeping arc, she cast a diagnostic spell and frantically glanced to Elgin. "Get Helena!"

"She'se…" his commentary ceased as Poppy's voice overrode his.

"Now!"

He needed no additional prompting, already snapping his fingers and taking him to St. Mungos fourth floor; not knowing the precise room that Blondie's currently occupied but he quickly deduced the area by the wizards standing on either side and before they glanced up; he had apparated into her room…startling both Harrisons.

"Elgin what is…"

Perhaps it was the look of profound need, the soot mixed with blood upon his previously white shirt that caused her words to trail off, "Minerva is not well."

Harold's arm flexed around his wife's mid-section as both of their emotions swelled, "You can't help her as you can barely sit up for an hour let alone…"

"Poppy has asked for you." Elgin swallowed his trepidation as he met extremely worried blue eyes.

"Elgin, what aren't you telling us?" Harold turned to the diminutive elf.

"Hogwarts was broken into, and she…" he took a step closer to them both, "she brought the corridor down to stop them."

"As in an entire hallway?" Helena sat up, fighting the sudden wave of nausea.

"Except for the area that she charmed to save Miss Samantha."

Their worry magnified ten fold, "Is Samantha alright?" Harold's voice rising two octaves as he grasped both their glasses.

"Poppy needs you," Elgin extended his hand out, "Now."

She placed her hand in the weathered one, Harold's atop hers; and both nodded, Elgin felt his magic strain and he pushed ahead – taking them to help the Mistress.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena stared at the diagnostic Poppy had run again for her, after the Hogwarts Matron finished casting another flurry of spells that should have slowed the blood flow to Minerva's chest. "That's not possible."

"I know."

Harold stared at the smoky reading, "What's not?"

"She has massive internal organ damage but her rib cage has not been compromised, and we can't slow the hemorrhaging."

"What of her arm?"

Helena didn't bother looking at the sharp angle Minerva's left arm was bent in, having already memorized the extent of damage from the first diagnostic Poppy had run upon her arrival almost ten minutes ago. "Seven broken bones along her extremities, but none of them are critical; however, if we can't slow the bleeding she'll be dead in under thirty minutes."

"Why isn't Hogwarts healing her?" Harold's question mirroring Poppy's thoughts.

"I don't know." Helena whispered, "Nor why our spells aren't either."

Minerva's eyes fluttered and landed upon Helena, emerald eyes riddled with pain as she tried to focus.

"I'm here," she wrapped fingers around Minerva's right hand, squeezing. "You have massive internal hemorrhaging, we're trying…"

A moan combined with blood frothing at her mouth as Minerva tried to speak, fingers tightening around the ones gripping her own.

"Don't try to talk." Helena whispered as she fought back tears, "Your lungs are filling up with blood, as is your chest cavity which is causing more stress upon your heart."

Poppy finished casting another series of spells at Helena's directive; ending with a diagnostic spell that painted an even grimmer picture than the one before. "Is there nothing we can do?"

Helena felt her friend's grip beginning to wane, eyes fluttering…and she glanced from Minerva to Poppy, to Harold and then back to Minerva as waves of anxiety pooled in her stomach. She was considered one of the best healers in the world, and she was without ideas. Her dearest, most beloved friend, was bleeding out from no apparent cause of injury and was completely unresponsive to any forms of known treatment.

Harold could feel her despondence, and kneeled beside his wife, "Helena…?"

Blue eyes blinked as she innately reached up with her left hand to put pressure upon her temple, head pulsing; Minerva's eyes rolling back in her head as the fingers within her hand went lax. "No…" She gripped Minerva's hand tighter, trying to ignore the way her head felt. "Not yet, damn you." She cried aloud, "You are _not_ allowed to die on me," A fantastical idea suddenly flickering in the recesses of her mind.

"What?" Harold could feel a spark of hope flood across their bond.

"Find Michael." She swallowed the bile that jumped from her stomach, her nausea growing as she pushed ahead.

"Poppy do you have any needles, IV bags?"

"A few, how many do you need?"

"I…" She leaned over kissing Minerva's scuffed knuckles, before letting her hand go. "Won't be able to…Michael though…" She narrowed her blurry vision at Harold, "Go, we have maybe fifteen minutes."

"I can't open a vortex here…"

"Downstairs, floo…" Poppy pointed to the door, but his footsteps could already be heard across her office and the fire flourishing. "What else do you need?"

Helena felt her body waver, a hand wrapping around her shoulder steadying her. "She's losing blood," Helena's words were beginning to slur, "I need to lie down and while I talk."

"Losing blood." Poppy prompted as Helena closed her eyes as she layed down.

"Use magical and muggle technology…" she licked her lips, "she has two pints of blood in St. Mungos vaults -"

"Who has access to her blood?" Poppy almost dreaded the answer.

"M…e." She muttered, "Jo…rdan."

"Your daughter, Jordan?"

"Yes." She answered, "Didn't trust anyone else with Minerva's medical information."

"Is she at home?"

"Yes…."

"Elgin."

He appeared before her, exceptionally haggard looking; "How is she?"

"I need you to get Helena's daughter, Jordan. And take her to St. Mungos vault, have her withdraw Minerva's blood stores."

Bonnie magically appeared and placed her hand upon his arm, "I will go."

"Bonnie you'se just as tired as me." He rebuked.

"Bonnie…" Helena cleared her throat, "hurry, she doesn't have much time."

"I'll be back momentarily." Bonnie vanished in a flash.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Harold!" Michael raised his glass causing the whole room to chorus and the elder wizard to inwardly moan. "Happy New Year!"

Harold weaved between well-wishers, "We need to go."

He wrapped his arm around the stately Harrison, "What? Nah, you just got here."

"Now." Harold began pushing Helena's young aide towards the floo, "There's been an emergency and Helena requested your assistance."

Michael stumbled to a stop. "That…" he set his glass down, "could be a problem."

"Not as insurmountable as others." Harold continued guiding the younger man ahead, "Come on, we don't have time."

Michael glanced back over his shoulder, friends and family gaily celebrating in his home, "I can't leave…"

"You are leaving," Harold corrected, "right now."

Brow furloughed, "What is so important?" His words slurring, "I didn't get an emergency call from St. Mungos."

"You wouldn't," Harold wandlessly summoned a stream of floo powder, and igniting the network. "Head of Hogwarts."

Michael's eyes bulged as his alcohol riddled brain realized where they were going and why as Harold eschewed him forth. After all there would only be one person at Hogwarts who would garner Helena's expertise, even in her current state; and that would be her best friend, the Headmistress – Minerva McGonagall. "Oh shit." He muttered as he stumbled out into the stately office, landing on his hands and knees; contents of his stomach lurching as he wretched onto the embroidered rug.

"Good thing," Harold turned away, eyes zeroing on Albus' portrait...and his previous thought vanished. "Albus," he strode forward, "Albus…"

"He has been…unavailable." Severus drawled.

"For how long?"

"Since moments before the corridor collapsed along the second floor."

"Ohh…" Michael moaned as he pushed himself back onto his knees, "That ain't good."

"No," Harold took a few steps and grabbed Michael by the back of his collar, "It isn't." He heaved the younger man upward, "As that rug is over five centuries old." He pulled his wand out and banished the foul smelling substance. "Come on, we don't have time."

"What's the prognosis?"

Harold glanced back to Severus' portrait, "Notify me if he regains…consciousness." Before following Michael up the steps, "Not good."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Jordan and Bonnie appeared in Minerva's personal bedroom, and she inwardly recoiled. "What on earth reeks?"

"Me." Michael answered knowing the clear voice from years long past as he brushed his forehead with his forearm. "Do you have it?"

Jordan walked forward and gasped at seeing her aunt lying upon the edge of her bed, "Minerva…" She felt tears prickling her eyes, Minerva's upper part of her outer and inner robe had been banished, as had her chemise and her any other articles of clothing. Her left arm had a compound fracture along her shoulder, cuts and bruises littered her skin, blood spooling down her cheek…

"Stay with me, Jordan." Michael called out as he tried to steady his hand with the scalpel.

"Mom?" Jordan set the units of blood by Minerva's leg, "Why haven't you or Poppy cast…"

"We did." Poppy took the unit of blood and cast a spell upon it, beginning to slowly raise its temperature, "She's unresponsive."

"Insert…" Helena's brow arched as she fought another wave of dizziness.

"Mom, what do you need?" Jordan stepped around her father.

"Time," Helena answered, "to figure out why she is unresponsive and how to heal her. So we're going to use muggle IV's…"

"To keep her alive, a muggle by-pass." Jordan reached back and tied her hair back, joining Poppy and Michael as they rapidly continued the procedure, Minerva's heart rate becoming fainter. IV bag of blood being hung and above her head, as Poppy stood having finished inserting a port into her chest, Jordan finished snaking the drain tubes into her lungs as Michael connected a series of bags...Harold supporting his wife as she cast a complex charm that would turn the plastic bags and tubing into a temporary by-pass.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione reached out, fingers tentatively brushing against the Albino's cool skin, and felt a wave of relief. Another one didn't die.

With a few flicks and waves of her wand, Marx moaned and she helped his stiff body up. "Come on," She wrapped her arm around his upper arm. "You probably already have hypothermia and…."

Red eyes blinked again, practically glowing in the moon light, "Did you get them?"

"Myriam escaped." She replied as he staggered upright.

"Myriam…?" His normally deep voice becoming almost guttural, "What about…Hooch?"

"I don't know if she's involved," Hermione supported his weight when he almost fell back over, "or alive."

"We'll find out," he grimaced as they began moving toward Hogwarts.

"Harry, you got it?"

"Yup…" He trudged ahead, "don't mind me…just freezing my ass off over here."

Despite himself, Marx chuckled. "We're so much warmer over here."

"Figures…" Harry jested, "Don't suppose either of you have an extra set of gloves you'd be willing to spare?"

"I'd need a set of my own first," Hermione retorted.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"No…no…no…" Michael muttered as he grabbed the tubing…blood pouring out of her body.

"Shit…"

"Heart rate has gone below 50…"

"How's the pressure?"

"Pulse slowing, BP 220…"

"Banish the blood from the heart."

"Mom, that'll kill her!"

"Do it!" She screamed back, "Poppy, increase the blood flow from the pump."

"It won't hold," Michael stated as he began re-running the tubing.

"We _have_ to relieve the pressure in her heart before the pressure stalls it out and she flat lines."

"Mom…"

"Dammit Jordan, she's my best friend in the world. You don't think I know what I am asking, banish the blood!" She lifted her arm, "Or I will!"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Tiredly, she stopped in front of the gargoyle not feeling any aspect of Minerva's password; who did this evening?

"Holiday cheer." She stated, trying not to let her thoughts get ahead of herself as she stepped onto the revolving staircase. It had been almost two hours since she had left the hallway; two hours since she had seen the devastation and solitary piece of emerald cloak; two hours since she had let her mind contemplate a very real, very unpleasant reality – whether or not Minerva had survived.

She hadn't been able to think about; and felt a wave of dread bubbling in the back of her throat as the staircase slowly lifted past the office and to her personal suite and as it ground to a stop, she didn't know if she could continue.

What would she do if Minerva had died?

Wouldn't someone have already told her if she had died? Surely, if the Headmistress of Hogwarts had died, the staff would have been alerted. Wouldn't they have been?

Or, had she just missed the information relay? Had someone tried to tell her, and she had been too busy to stop and listen not wanting to hear what they had to say? Not wanting to believe that Minerva…had died.

She reached forward, fingers trembling as they touched the cool metal and the decision of continuing or not ended – the door opened on its own accord revealing several haggard looking persons suddenly all looking her way. Rory, Tessa, Malcolm, Percival, Audrey, and Samantha huddled in the corner. Their collective worried expressions told her all she needed to know, _Minerva was still alive, _she felt the muscles of her chest release and a rush of oxygen course through her system as she was finally able to take a breath. "Any news?"

"She's alive, but they're havin' a time stabilizin' her." Rory answered as grey eyes scanned hers, his voice filled with emotion. "How's the repairs goin'?"

"Still removing rubble along the second floor," her eyes flickered to the door and back, "Harry and I just returned."

Percival strode forward, as Rory continued on. "Ideas on how Johannes got in?"

"Myriam."

"What of Rolanda?" Audrey's voice interjected.

"She's unconscious but stable," Hermione answered as her voice wavered, "and Poppy's otherwise occupied."

Minerva's door opened and any further conversation instantly died as all eyes turned, a mixture of hope and anxiousness flashing across the room full of faces and the most unlikely person stepped into view – dark rust colored stains and fresh crimson ones speckled Jordan's light pink satin blouse and navy slacks as tendrils of sweat matted her hair which had been pulled back off her neck. "She's still alive."

"Jordan…" Tessa moved towards her and the door.

She stepped in the doorway, eyes raising to meet Rory's. "Is everyone here aware of Minerva's medical condition?"

"Aye." He answered, "Regardin' her, Hogwarts and healin', save fo'r Samantha."

Jordan leaned back, eyes taking in the wonderful sight of her eldest, "Samantha!" She felt the weight of the last forty minutes lift off her shoulders as she ran forward; her daughter's groggy features blinking awake.

"Mo…ther!" She bolted off the sofa.

Jordan lifted her daughter into her arms and hugged her to her chest, "You're okay…" she murmured as she spun around.

"Nana protected me, mum." Small arms squeezed around her mother's neck.

"Thank Merlin…" she repeated as she continued hugging her daughter, "you're alright."

"I was at the library and on my way back…" her voice breaking, "and she protected me…" Samantha held on tighter, "she told me not to move, and I didn't mom. Even as the walls came down, I didn't move just like she said."

Jordan kissed her daughter's wet cheek, "She knew you wouldn't love."

"I didn't mom…" She whispered as her mother knelt by her, tears dripping off her jaw and wetting the front of her sweater.

"Honey, I need you to go lay down in Nana's spare room," She pointed to the door behind her, "and I'll be along in a little while."

"Mom, I…can you come with me?"

Audrey stepped forward, "I'll be right in Sam until your mom can relieve me, alright?"

Large tear filled eyes flickered past her mom and aunt, landing on her Head of House, "Please Professor Granger, don't take any points from Gryffindor for me causing Nana to get hurt…"

"You didn't hurt Minerva, Samantha." Hermione reassured, "And you did as she told you, which was a very brave thing to do."

Jordan kissed her daughter's cheek again and motioned towards the door, "Go on."

"Will I see you in the morning?"

"Absolutely." Jordan stated and with one long look back, Samantha nodded and then disappeared behind the door to the spare room. Clearing her throat, she stood back up, "Minerva has sustained several broken bones along her extremities, however, our overriding concern is the hemorrhaging in her chest. Her rib cage is solid and no apparent trauma has occurred to her organs; but she's losing a lot of blood and we don't know why."

"Helena can't stymie the blood loss?" Tessa questioned, worry reflected in blue eyes.

Jordan met her _cousin's_ gaze, "No," her cadence growing weaker, "mom has almost passed out twice, only my parents' bond have kept her coherent; her concussion is de-habilitating…" her voice choking on the very recent memory, "she threw-up each time. And we need time."

"It doesn't sound like mother has much." Percival whispered.

"No," Jordan glanced to Percival, "but mom came up with merging a bit of magic and muggle technology, we've been try to stabilize her by creating a blood by-pass system where we are pulling the hemorrhaging blood out of her chest cavity and lungs and cycling it back through her heart to pump it back into her body."

"Ingenious," Hermione murmured, "is it working?"

As blue eyes landed upon brown, she sensed a worry as deep and profound as her own. It was strange really how close the younger woman had become to her aunt. From her invite to the family's dinner, it was apparent that the 'closeness' was mutual. And while she'd like to speak with her for some time to get to know her, because if Hermione had befriended her aunt; she must truly be an amazing woman. Now was definitely _not_ the time, but as soon as she could speak with her…she was going to make every effort. "We're working out a few complications."

"Jordan." Audrey quietly stepped closer, cadence barely could be construed a whisper. "Do _you_ think Minerva will survive the night?"

Hermione felt her heart stop at the soft spoken question, tears at the very notion already prickling against the back of her eyes as the entire room breathlessly awaited her response.

However, it wasn't Jordan's voice that answered.

But her mother's.

"Thankfully, she's too damn stubborn to die easily." Helena's exhaustion was all too evident as Harold tiredly supported her; skin tone appearing clammy and circles making her eyes look sunken and the greenish blue bruising upon her forehead stand-out even more. But it was the volume of blood littering her robe and hands that caused several sharp intakes of breath to resonate throughout the room. "She's lost a lot of blood, and I'll need…" Harold stumbled as she shifted her weight.

"Mom, dad…"

Rory caught Helena's arm, fingers momentarily sliding along the fabric. "Whoa…"

"Test in the morning," Helena pushed on, "she may need a transfusion."

"We can start…"

Helena shook her head and Jordan elaborated. "She had two pints in St. Mungos vaults that we're currently using."

"Only Esmerele had O-negative."

"Tomorrow." Helena nodded towards the bathroom, "We're keeping her stable and we'll know more in the morning."

"Helena…" Rory began but any comment was cut off in a flash.

Fire jumped in blue eyes as they glared at grey ones, "I need to get the blood off and rest for a few hours…"

"Relax love, ya did good." He smiled at the feisty woman who he had known since childhood and while they hadn't always been best friends, their best friend had always been mutual, "Real good." He paused, and reached around and wrapped her in his arms, despite the blood, holding her for a long moment until she finally sunk into his embrace and let the tears fall.

"I'm so…tired." She murmured into his chest, neither one willing to relinquish hold on the other as they dealt with past events and the horrifying truth that while Helena's expert knowledge in conjunction with Michael, Poppy and Jordan's skill – they were only delaying what they both knew to be the inevitable. And little else was verbalized with the audience in the room, as neither one wished to completely fall apart in front of _the children_. It would be one thing to do so in front of Pomona or Filius…and even, surprisingly…Hermione; but _not_ the children.

"I know..." he whispered into her hair, "I know."

Hermione discreetly wiped a tear away from her cheek as Rory murmured something into Helena's hair; and she only squeezed him tighter. It was Percival's gentle cadence that broke the moment, "Can we go and sit with her?"

Helena barely pulled her face from Rory's shoulder, "It'll take a few hours to get her cleaned up, and ensure she's stable enough. At six, for an hour I'll authorize it; and then we'll need to conduct more tests enabling us to determine the cause."

"Why hasn't Hogwarts healed her?" Hermione drew Helena's muted blue gaze and her worry at Minerva's prognosis increased a hundred fold in a heartbeat.

"I don't know…" came her solemn response.

"Perhaps…" Pomona shuffled a bit closer, "that's because Hogwarts itself is injured."

Eyes grew wide and Helena turned back to the doorway, her boggled mind extrapolating fragments from hundreds of conversations with Minerva and Albus; and realization sparked. Her blue eyes searched and landed upon Harold's, recognition flashing as he too understood the gravity of the problem. She was bound to Hogwarts – and it to her. But why now when the fabled school had been decimated during the battle of Hogwarts? However, she had not been seriously wounded during the attack, whereas, this time she had an entire corridor land atop her. She'd need to speak with Filius…as soon as she slept for a few hours to appease the horrendous headache. "Perhaps," she finally answered, "we'll know in the morning when we can run more tests."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Absolutely exhausted, Filius made his way down the inner hallway and towards Minerva's quarters. He could barely pick up each foot; only the last of his willpower and Helena's need to speak with him regarding Minerva propelled him forward.

Hours ago, Hermione had relayed the prognosis given. And it had left him…hollow and exceptionally worried.

His friend's recovery was at best, uncertain and contingent upon who knew what…?

He could only hope that this morning Helena, Poppy or one of the other healers had detected what was causing the internal hemorrhaging before they weren't able to cycle her blood any longer.

Although, he did have to marvel at Helena's ingenuity in combining muggle medicine and magical lore. She was a rare witch, and he was certainly glad that her sharp intellect had been so incredibly honed in the healer discipline. If it wasn't for the fact that he had known Minerva for decades longer than Helena, and had had the opportunity to bear witness to Minerva's startling intellect; he would never had questioned the oft times well heralded remarks regarding Helena's astute ability and unparalleled intellect that were synonymous with Ravenclaw. However, he had; and while she was in a league of her own – Minerva was on another playing field entirely.

Placing his hand on the door, it sprung open to reveal Minerva's warm décor and the pungent odor of antiseptic. A sharp reminder of _what_ was occurring; and in this location it was far too easy to fully comprehend _who_ it was happening to.

"Filius." Helena greeted, stepping from Minerva's bedroom; looking as tired as he felt. Her eyes were red-rimmed and circles as dark as Death Eater's robes once were; hair lacking its usual luster and cadence laced with fatigue. "I must say, you look rather piquish."

"As do you my dear."

Helena motioned for them to sit on the chesterfield, "What do you know about Hogwarts and the interaction with…" her voice innately dropping, "its heart."

Despite his blanketing fatigue, shock flittered across his face. "How do you know about it?" his voice rising almost three octaves.

"Minerva," she shifted, eyes penetrating golden orbs. "Filius what do you _know_ of the connection between that of Hogwarts and the heart? I believe it is exceedingly important."

"As _its_ safety," he retorted, recovering from his shock as he met her spearing gaze with his own. This was not a game either could lose; yet neither could give in.

"And what if I had reason to believe that her life is tied to Hogwarts?"

"Impossible," he countered…but her look of certainty stopped his words and he leaned forward, "you are sure?"

"I need to know what you do, Filius."

"Not without knowing why, the peril to Hogwarts…"

"She's bound to it." Helena interjected, continuing on despite his shocked expression. "Years ago, she and Albus bound themselves to Hogwarts in an effort to repair and re-stabilize the foundational warding latticework or something along those lines. Every year after the end of school, they'd spend a week…"

"Working on the wards." Filius murmured, finally able to speak again. He, along with the rest of the staff, had always wondered why Albus and Minerva would spend a whole week upon the grounds immediately following the end of term. "That's why the wards seemed to be stronger." Eyes grew large as the full meaning of Helena's statement was extrapolated out, his voice barely audible. "That's why she's alive after Albus' death." His keen intellect spiraling forward, "But then what of Albus…"

"She remains bound to them both." Helena answered before Filius could utter the question, and his response was an audible gasp as his gaze flew towards Minerva's office; hand falling over his mouth as tears blurred his vision.

"Then, he is alive?" A spark of hope burning in the depths of golden orbs as they turned back to Helena.

"No, his portrait contains his essence, but he is waiting in limbo between this world and the next; and it is their bond that is slowly killing Minerva. They remain as such, neither one can break it as they are upon two different levels of existence; she here amongst the living, he at King's Cross waiting."

"The blue in the clock…" Filius muttered and at Helena's questioning look he expanded, "the clock in Minerva's office that was once Albus'. When I first started it used to be a brilliant shade of blue, and later – after they bound, it flowed with an equal mix of emerald and blue; and much much later I noticed two flecks of alabaster one amidst the blue the other the emerald. It remained as such until Albus' death and it was as if the alabaster and blue switched…however the emerald has slowly been dwindling."

"It's a pictorial representation of Albus' magic, and now Minerva's. It was given to him by the Flammels; the alabaster is Hogwarts and it is what has kept Minerva alive. However, it is only a matter of time before the bond pulls the last of her magical core and the magic coursing through her…"

"Dear Merlin, Helena she'll be burned alive." Filius breathed out, horrified.

"What terrifies her more, is living as a muggle for the last of her days; and not being able to be who she is or was. Now," Helena cleared her throat and the swell of emotion. "the heart, Filius. What do you know? Because, magic and potions aren't healing her; I can't even diagnose what the problem is, at best I can sustain her."

"The heart…is the magic of Hogwarts. It encompasses the wards, the magic of the building, grounds, previous Heads of Hogwarts, everything that _is _Hogwarts. I knew something occurred at Hogwarts while at the Manor because of the Head of Hogwarts and the Deputy are tethered to it…" His voice trailed off as past conversations replayed in his mind's eye; and how Minerva had told him countless times of her connection without really telling him.

"Filius…"

He blinked, "Let me see if I can access the heart from here, and see if the heart will show me its connection to Minerva."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"I don't know if the damage to the southwestern corridor has impaired our access, as the corridors she collapsed…"

"The other entry – like a main artery or vein. One in, the other out. Hogwarts operates like an organism…and…oh dear heavens, Filius –" She stood, "She…" Helena pointed to Minerva's room, "it is more than intertwined…think of Minerva as the physical entity of Hogwarts. It's magic, it's life blood is bleeding out – the only difference is, its blood supply is much, much larger."

"She won't heal until Hogwarts…"

"Is healed." They finished simultaneously.

"But," he slid off the sofa, "if that was true; why was she not more seriously injured from the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Whose to say she wasn't," Helena countered, "she appeared quite haggard that summer and tirelessly worked upon various areas despite both of our attempts to get her to slow. What if it had an affect, but because her own magical stores were greater…it didn't have the same physical manifestations."

"Also," Filius' recalled the scorched walls, tumbled stone, holes littering the upper towers, "the integrity of Hogwarts was never ruptured. While completely devastating, it was repair work not like this nor…were any of the badly affected areas near the heart."

"How long will it take to empty the corridor and begin repairs?"

"I…" his voice broke, "Helena, she ruptured the integrity of the wards to pull the corridors apart. I don't even know where to begin to stabilize the area, let alone re-build the corridor. If I work non-stop, perhaps…a week."

Helena's face blanched, "I can't keep her alive for a week."

"And I don't know if I can get it done any faster."

"Is there any way to expedite the repairs?"

"I have all the Professors assisting who are able, even several of the ex-professors and their spouses. There is an inordinate amount of rubble Helena. She completely destroyed two corridors and it is pilled upon the first floor. We need time to finish sorting out the stone and then to build re-build the corridors. Something we do not have." He began heading towards the office, "And before I get a few hours sleep, I'll see if the heart will allow me access to its core."

"One last thing," Helena took a partial step forward, "the only other persons who know of Minerva's plight are Rory and Harold. Poppy and the children know of her bond to Hogwarts but not Albus."

He paused, hand upon the brass stairwell. "There will come a time where her children or others may learn of the truth, but it shan't be from me."

"She hopes that by the time the truth surfaces, she'll be dead."

"Unfortunately," his tone turned grave, "she may be right."

Helena watched him begin walking down the stairs, the measure of his fatigue evident; as he did not levitate down them. And she slowly turned back to the room, with a heavy heart and equally heavy steps she moved forward and opened the door; breaking the silencing spell that Harold had cast for her before entering the living room.

"Well?" Michael stopped re-dressing the seeping wound along Minerva's side where a series of tubes were protruding. "Does he know how or why Minerva could be impacted by what is going on at Hogwarts?"

Her eyes slid past Michael and to the only other occupant in the room, her husband. Jordan had left early in the morning with Samantha, and the family had already been in and left as they had needed quiet to conduct tests and determine what had happened to Minerva and how they could begin healing her. "Yes."

"And?" Michael questioned, "What is it? How can we nullify it? How long…"

"She was struck by a curse," Harold kept his eyes upon Helena's as he relayed the same _truth_ to him as was relayed to but a handful of others. "during the attack upon Hogwarts that killed Dumbledore; and since then, she has always been healed by Hogwarts. Requiring little intervention from St. Mungos or any healers."

"And it seems," Helena continued on, "that until Hogwarts is healed, Minerva can't be either."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Allyson nudged Kylie, "Did you have an opportunity to sneak past the professors and see?"

"No," looking at the rest of the lunch options with apprehension; she jammed her fork into the potatoes, "it's warded and it won't let anything through; and the area is swarming with professors."

"What about the Headmistress, have you seen her?" Allyson asked.

A half dozen eyes slid to the sparsely attended Head of Hogwarts Table, only Professors Hesch, Hooch, and Granger attending.

"No one has." Mildred answered, "Not since evening meal." Confidence lacing her next string of words, "Probably immersed in the repairs."

The group of children all nodded, except Kylie. "But why have we seen every other professor at one of the meals today, except her."

"Of late, the Headmistress hasn't been at as many meals."

"Which is odd unto itself," Daphne interjected, "in all my time here, this is the first year that has ever occurred."

"Something _must_ be going on."

"Do you think something happened last night? Here?"

There was an exceedingly long pause, "Nah, Allyson shook her head, the Professors would have told us."

"And the reason the south western corridors are suddenly closed across three floors?"

Mildred stole Daphne's earlier phrase, "That is odd, even at Hogwarts."

"Alright then," Allyson retorted, "what happened?'

Kylie shrugged, "Don't know, but…" she nodded to the small group of professors who were speaking amongst themselves, expressions dire. "I don't like what's going on, whatever it is."

"Me either." Mildred whispered.

"Either way, there aren't many places safer than here, at Hogwarts, with Headmistress McGonagall." Allyson stated reassuringly.

"That's true." Kylie murmured as everyone nodded, "But what if something happens, and she isn't here?"

Allyson laughed outright, "She _is_ the Headmistress, Kylie. What could possibly happen to her?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

It was with great hesitation that Helena permitted Hermione entry to Minerva's room, as the last several persons who had entered; Poppy, Michael, Arthur, even Filius and Pomona her heart rate accelerated and she entered into a state of unrest – the only time she hadn't been that way was when she, Harold or one of the children were with her. However, she was also aware of how close of friends the two women had become; and she had made sure that Minerva's vitals could withstand _another_ burst of adrenaline or whatever had caused her heart rate to accelerate.

"Remember, she's still incredibly unstable; you've got ten minutes before you'll need to leave. Something is causing her a great deal of unrest when others are in the room."

"Thank you, Helena." Hermione tiredly murmured, feeling as much unease about entering and seeing Minerva in such a vulnerable state as Helena was in letting anyone else in.

And she eased past the haggard looking woman who had in return, stepped from the room; undoubtedly granting her a few minutes of privacy as she had everyone else. _Probably for as much of her own sake, not wanting to see everyone's initial reaction to…_the rest of her thought dispersed as if it had become a wisp of smoke on a breezy day as her eyes fell upon Minerva. Her gasp audible to her own ears and she felt the tears spring to her eyes. The bed had been morphed or a new bed had taken residence where her old one used to lay; it was perhaps half the size and still Minerva appeared dwarfed by the white linens. However, it was the pallor of her skin and the series of tubes jutting out from beneath the right side of her; blood oozing out…cycling overhead, replenishing a partially filled bag and incrementally flowing into a port near her heart that had stolen her very thought away.

Gone was the vivacious woman whose very presence seemed to defy death, rather she looked as though she had invited it in.

Rarely seen long locks of ebony hair fanned outward about her ashen complexion, highlighting how dire her situation and condition was. A large putrid color bruise marred the scant skin exposed along her right shoulder and collarbone, _probably one of the many broken bones_, she thought as her eyes noticed her dry, chapped lips… "What did you do?" Hermione whispered taking the last handful of steps closer and seeing the far smaller series of tubing that was hidden from a cursory view – her eyes followed the bags and she could tell one was for hydration, the other to void the fluid.

She pulled the chair Helena had obviously been sitting in, closer and sat beside her. Noting that the sheet and blanket had been removed from her right hand and with great care, she slipped her hand atop Minerva's. Instantly, she felt a rush of warmth flow through her and a faint whimper left Minerva's lips.

"Minerva…?" Hermione scanned her face, looking for _any_ signs of pain or even that she had begun to awaken; but Minerva's countenance had remained unchanged. "You have to fight." Hermione whispered, eyes flicking towards the closed door, voice dropping even lower. "You have to come back to us…" her hand tightening ever so much more as she added the last part, "to me." She leaned closer, admitting a truth to herself that she had been trying to ignore for far too long; and if she hadn't, would it have made any difference? "I think, I'm falling in love with you;" she breathed out, "I don't know how, I don't know if you could ever love me in return, I don't know if there is a future…" she felt the first series of tears flow down her cheeks, "I only know that you seem to know me, like no other. And you are the reason I can't go back with Ron; because you've given me hope that there is something else, _someone_ else and that I _don't_ have to settle." She lightly brushed her fingertips across cool skin, "Although, I hope at some point…it's you." She genuinely stated from the bottom of her heart as she gazed into the still, gaunt features of Minerva's face. "Please, Minerva…wake up for me. Please."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena sighed as she opened the door, expecting to have to run out another well-wisher. However, upon entering, she was shocked to see Minerva appearing – calm. Hermione had taken up where she had been sitting most of the day; and with great effort she cast a diagnostic charm only to be flabbergasted as to the results greeting her eyes.

Minerva's heart rate, which had been irregular most of the day, had been steady – almost rhythmic. Her blood pressure had increased, her oxygen level and brain activity had also increased; the only oddity was that her blood flow had become elevated around her reproductive…Helena's thoughts ceased as she tried recalling _when_ Minerva had thrown the Manor's windows open, heedless of the consequence as she tried to cool her body and the need she had coursing through her. Three…perhaps four weeks? Helena blinked, realizing that Hermione was staring at her, "You're fine." She stated, "I'll be back momentarily." She spun on her heel almost falling on her ass as she did; stars bursting across the back of her eyes…she was still not up to fast movements.

Drawing the door close, "Elgin."

At once he appeared, "Yes, Blondie's?"

"When does Minerva's cycle occur again?"

He blinked at her a few moments as if he too were trying to recall the time between her last day and now. "Today."

"Shit." Helena muttered as she ran a hand up into her hair.

"Blondie's…?"

"Just once," she turned back to the door, "why can't it be easy?"

"I is not following."

"When will it be over?" She muttered almost rhetorically, "Sunday?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, my friend." She finally let her hand fall from her hair after Elgin bid farewell and vanished leaving her momentarily alone again. "Damn, damn, damn…" she snapped as she heavily sat on the arm of the chesterfield. "Alright, let me think…" she began talking to herself trying to problem solve aloud, head splitting as her concentration wavered. "Vitals…" she pulled her wand out and made a few glyphs before her, "current track will have her blood loss decreased by…" another wave of her wand and a the glyphs changed – "…no…" she muttered, "that's not possible but by a third will factor out to 40 percent…" she dispelled the glyphs as she reached into her robes, pulling a small piece of parchment that grew four times in length as she flipped open her glasses and the blurred edges of her world snapped into focus as did her scrawl. "Which…will only require another 2 pints, and her body could withstand…and it'll buy Filius an additional two days."

She heard the door open, and Harold tiredly stepped out from Minerva's spare room. "What is it?" he wiped at his eyes, having felt a wave of hope course through him.

"I'll explain, shortly." She shrunk the parchment down and slipped it back into her robes.

"Helena, you can't continue pushing, you need to some rest and…"

"Love," she stood as she reached up and pulled off her glasses, "I know. And I believe I may have just stumbled on a miracle."

He cast a glance towards where Minerva lay, "Who is with her?"

"Hermione."

Fatigue dispelled from his eyes at her answer, "She isn't reacting like the others?"

"Rather the opposite." She smiled at the bubble of hope that coursed through him, "I'll be in a few moments. Can you seal the doorway and activate an alert charm if anyone other than the house elves sets foot in the living room?"

"Then…you're not going to lay down beside Minerva to watch her vitals?"

"Barring her flat-lining, we both need a few uninterrupted hours of sleep; I'm going to have Hermione stay with her."

"You're sure?"

"As certain as the colossal headache beating behind my eye." She clutched the edge of the chesterfield, "I'll explain it all, and if my calculations are right…it's for the best."

"Helena, you aren't making sense." Harold stated concerned at what his wife had just calculated for their friend.

"Let's hope I'm right then." She pushed herself to the door, and opened it; to see the blurry image of Hermione still sitting next to Minerva in the chair she had occupied for the bulk of the day. "Hermione," she cleared her throat and the woman stood.

"I'm sure it's been well over 10 minutes, sorry." Hermione stated as she let go of Minerva's hand and stood.

"Actually," Helena began, "would you mind sitting with Minerva for the next four hours?"

Hermione had been prepared to leave, her own fatigue becoming acutely apparent as she sat unmoving for the first time since the dread events took place. "I…surely there is someone else; Tessa, Percival…you…"

"I don't know if it's timing, happenstance or whatever confluence of events; but Minerva is resting, comfortably for the first time today with someone other than Harold or I or her children. I've been up for most of the night until now besides a handful of catnaps, and…I am not well myself. Harold and I were going to lie down in the spare room."

"What of Tessa or Percival?"

"It is very difficult for them to see her like this, and if she were to wake up; equally as difficult for her."

"Jordan? Can't she…"

Helena barely shook her head, "With Samantha this afternoon."

"If something goes wrong, Helena, I am many things; a healer I am not."

"She's stable. It'll be fine. Harold is going to ward the living room and lock the doors so if you need to leave; you'll have to ask Elgin."

"I…" On some level, Hermione understood; but she too was exhausted. Filius had sent her away from the corridor and all she could think about was coming here and seeing for herself that Minerva was still alive. And now that she had, she needed to get a few hours of rest enabling her relieve Marx; as they had begun a rotation to ensure that everyone slept for a minimum of four hours and ate at least one meal in the Great Hall. "Helena, I can't." She finally whispered, wanting more than anything than to sit there and keep a vigil over Minerva. "I need to get a couple hours of rest, as I am Marx's relief."

Helena nodded to the tubing and such, "I never said you had to remain awake, Hermione. As I have not been when I can afford to, the tubing is alarmed and if there is a problem; it'll wake you."

"Then why don't…"

"I'm bound;" she reminded the younger woman, "and while I can sleep here, it would be more restful and beneficial if Harold and slept together for a short while."

"There's a lot more to being bound, isn't there?"

"Very much." Helena answered, "Now get yourself some sleep, and I'll see you in a few hours."

"Helena," Hermione called out, causing the elder woman to pause at the doorway and partially turn back to her, "you are truly the most incredible healer I have ever known."

"Thank you." She tiredly replied, "If there's a problem that you believe will de-stabilize her; come wake me. Goodnight."

Hermione watched as Helena pulled the door close and she sighed. "Well that was unexpected," she muttered aloud. She gazed down at her robes, torn between transfiguring the chair into a bed right there and trying to pass out; or asking Elgin to take her to her rooms to shower first and then pass out. "Elgin," she called out and at once the stately elf appeared.

"Yes, Hermione's?"

"Can you take me to my rooms to shower and then return me here to monitor Minerva? I'll only be 10 minutes, I just need to get the dust…"

"Use the Mistress's shower, I'se returns with clothes."

"No, Elgin…"

"Helena asked you watch the Mistress…you'se not able to hear the alarms from your room if there'se a problem. You'se be able to hear it from her shower." And he was gone again.

With a frown, Hermione moved past the bed and paused at the entrance to the bathroom; "Just go in, take a shower…you've done it before; nothing's changed." _Except…well, everything, _her brain countered as she entered and stopped.

She found herself staring at a long emerald green vanity top, gold hexagonal glasses haphazardly strewn amongst dozens of hair pins and pearl earrings and necklace…before she knew it, she had stepped forward and the string of pearls were dangling from her fingers. They were beautiful, iridescent and probably cost a small fortune…it was at this thought that Hermione paused and gazed about the vanity…realizing why it stood out so. It had always been clean and she almost dropped the necklace as if burnt. _She must have been wearing these last night…_

Her heart pounded in her chest and thudded in her ears as a wave of nausea overtook her. She had come so close to losing her.

Gently, she returned the necklace to the vanity top and tried not to think about what could have happened, and truth be told – what could still happen. She moved to the shower and with a sigh of relief extricated herself from her outer robe; a small cloud of dust billowing off the filthy fabric. Another handful of seconds and she was stepping into the shower, jets pounding at her sore muscles as the water washed the last of the deadly battle and day away. She heard a faint pop, and was about to open the door when Elgin's voice drifted across the air.

"You'se clothes on the Master's vanity."

"Thank you, Elgin." She called out, but he didn't respond having undoubtedly already left. Filius had remarked this morning that several of the elves had returned to McGonagall Manor to begin repairing the damage there – leaving Hogwarts extremely short staffed.

A few more minutes and she was drying off, a deep yawn pulling at her features as she pulled up the first article of clothing and her affinity for the stately house elf grew even more. He had brought her sleepware and not robes.

Merlin, he should have been a wizard; and this afternoon – she would have considered marrying him, she thought as she slipped on the pair of flannel pants and eyed the bra but just couldn't make herself; besides who would see her? She slipped on the cotton faded blue shirt before stepping back out into Minerva's room, both of her wands sitting beside Minerva's. She immediately noticed the long scuffs and marks along the ebony surface, _undoubtedly from falling debris._ She'd have to clean it when she awoke in a few hours. Picking up her old wand, she turned back to the chair and a short series of flicks and movements later a thin day bed appeared. She set her wand back down, but not before banishing her wand that Minerva had gotten her back to her rooms; it had proved quite useful this evening – but there was no need to have it here. She was perfectly safe, the only place safer – she eased herself onto the mattress, groaning as she stretched out her back, was probably Gringotts.

She turned her head, eyes resting on the steady rise and fall of Minerva's chest; if she could ignore the ashen color, the tubes, blood…and all the other indicators, she could imagine that Minerva had just dozed off while reading.

Her eyes remained upon the angular features of her face, taking advantage of the rare moment where she could stare at Minerva's unguarded countenance. Even when playing a game of chess after a few drinks, there was a level of caution that the cryptic woman hid behind. And she was a trusted friend…leaving her to wonder what it would be like to truly _see_ her in all aspects – where she felt comfortable enough to let her guard completely and utterly down.

She blinked again…not ready to succumb to sleep quite yet, but her body failed to listen to her – it was exhausted, and safe…and the world around her faded from view…a look of contentment lacing her features as the last image blinked away was Minerva, alive.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione heard a guttural, pain filled moan in the far recesses of her mind; and she forced her eyes open – it felt like she was raking sandpaper across her corneas as she tried to focus. She felt a pressure increase on her right hand and the events leading up to now tumbled back to the forefront – Hogwarts, Harkiss, corridors, Minerva…and her brain latched onto the last name as she recalled where she was, and why she was there. "Minerva…" She blinked a third time, ignoring how tired she was as the grip upon her hand tightened. It was then that she realized that some time between when she fell asleep and now, she must have extended her hand and set it upon Minerva's…and she in turn must have placed hers on top. Fortunately the late afternoon sun was illuminating the room, enabling her to scan the tubing and breathe a sigh of relief, it was all working properly.

However, Minerva's face contorted in pain, a light sheen of sweat could be seen along her forehead and her eyes fluttered…

"Minerva," Hermione had swung her legs off the day bed she had transfigured and slide closer to Minerva's head. As she did, she went to pull her hand from the elder woman's, but it only became tighter. "It's me, Hermione." She hoped to reassure her, "I need you to let me go, so I can go get Helena and…"

"J…ust…stay." Minerva rasped.

Hermione tentatively reached up with her left hand, momentarily unsure of how Minerva would react but at seeing her face twist and the grip upon her hand tighten; she shoved her own musings aside and offered what comfort she could. She let her hand trail across the clammy skin of her forehead and brushed into her hair. "She'll be able to help…"

"…no…" Minerva replied through a slight gasp.

"You are obviously in a lot of pain, she can give you a potion to dampen it."

With concerted effort, Minerva forced her left eye open…and Hermione gasped at how little of her iris remained, as her pupil was mostly dilated; the pain emanating outward was tangible. "Won't…help." Her words timed with each breath. "Hogwarts. Connected."

"Is that why Filius is trying to repair the corridors so quickly? Your health is contingent upon how quickly Hogwarts…"

"Y…es." Minerva interjected as her eye began closing again.

"Stay with me." Hermione whispered.

"…try…ing." Minerva breathed out again, "cold."

"That's probably from your blood loss." Hermione turned around looking for a blanket and stopped. At some point, Elgin had covered her with a sheet, blanket and comforter and had brought a pillow too. "Let my hand go, and I'll get you covers."

"…eve. Elena. Needs. Sleep."

"And you in this much pain can't be healthy." Hermione retorted.

"Hogwarts." Her breathing became easier, "Help…ing."

"What do you mean helping?"

"Waves." Minerva murmured.

Hermione felt the pressure on her hand ease, and she immediately pulled the comforter and blanket from the bed she had been on and with great care placed it on Minerva, being careful not to jostle any of the tubing around. "Better?" Hermione quickly came around the bed at her lack of response, "Minerva?"

"May. Need." A moan slipped off her lips as her neck strained.

"A potion?"

"Ahhh…." Both eyes fluttered open as her right hand dug into the sheet and moving her left hand caused another wave of pain; and the world dissolving as Hogwarts' voice echoed across her, the intense pain abating for a moment. _Who is she to you?_

"A friend…" Minerva responded losing track of the room around her as his face intermittently fluttered pass her.

_She is far more than that._ His voice countered, _Your body and the strain has eased these past few hours, even now as my own discomfort grows – yours remains steady._

"Why…more?" She tried to ask why there was more pain, and Merlin forbid, if she'd be forced to bear anymore.

"Minerva?" Hermione whispered, growing more concerned at the odd conversation spilling from her lips.

_The corridor. As the diminutive wizard pulls the stone from the hallway, he is placing the remnants into piles away from their destination._

"Hermione…" she felt his hand upon her left side, enabling her to focus more upon what looked to be the trappings of her own room. "I, need you to relay a message to Filius." Her voice sounding oddly normal, "Not to remove the stone from…Hogwarts."

Hermione didn't know how she knew what was happening, but it was obvious that she did. "They are finishing removing it today…"

A pulse of pain flared as she tried to speak, "No." She gasped, eyes focusing on Hogwarts and not upon Hermione; "Don't…"

_I must and for that I am sorry._

"No more pain." Minerva heartbreakingly whispered, tears slipping down her eyes.

"I'll get Helena…" She stated about to leave.

_Pain lets you know your alive_, he let his fingers begin trailing from her skin.

"Then let me go…"

Hermione stopped at the slurring words.

_You ask for what cannot be given, Minerva._

"…no…." she choked as the blinding pain returned, its intensity having grown as another cry left her lips. "Ahh…."

Hermione watched as Minerva strained against the bed, her body twisting first one way and then the other, causing the sheet to slide down further exposing her bruised shoulder. She heard Minerva take a sharp breath of air followed by an obvious grimace on her face before her eyes again flew open and for a few brief second; dilated emerald eyes was looking at a point in the room well beyond Hermione. Hermione could see her mouth moving as if trying to form words but she could hear nothing beyond the muggle-magical heart pump beating in time to its own slow and steady rhythm.

Had Minerva been speaking to someone else?

"Minerva." She grasped the sheet and the fingers clutched desperately within it. "Minerva."

Eyes shifted focus and Minerva's movements became less as her eyes blinked, a moan slipping from her lips followed by pain laced words. "Tell. Filius."

"I will in a little…"

"Ahhh…now." Minerva gasped, breathlessly as she shifted again. "Magic. Leaving. Ahhh…" her back arched, hot pain erupting through her chest. "Hog…warts."

Hermione felt her own heartbeat increase with her growing fear that Minerva would damage the delicate magical-muggle apparatus that was keeping her alive. "Let me get Helena first."

Minerva tried to respond, but the pain was too intense…and the world slipped away in a haze of pain.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Where are you going?" Helena snapped as she tied her robe about her as she strode through the living room.

"To speak with Filius."

"No," Helena stopped and grabbed Hermione by the arm, "_he_ is coming to you." She stated as she pulled the younger witch with her, "Elgin. How long was she awake? What did she say?" And they both drew to a stop as Minerva shifted and strained, pain etched upon her features as a whimper was pulled from her throat.

"Blondie's?"

"Please bring Filius here." Hermione spoke before Helena had an opportunity.

Elgin's head turned at Minerva's obvious distress and Hermione knelt in front of Minerva's faithful elf; "It is of utmost importance, I need to speak with Filius."

Worried golden eyes rotated to brown ones, and with a nod – he was gone. Helena was already casting a series of spells, glasses suddenly resting upon the end of her nose as she set her hand lightly upon Minerva's left hip. "Easy, Minerva." She turned to Hermione, "What did she say?"

Filius suddenly appeared, looking haggard and out of sorts. He turned quickly, eyes at first landing on Minerva. "Is something wrong?"

"Minerva woke and wanted me to relay a message," Hermione stated as his head rotated around to meet her gaze, a curious expression on his face as his eyes glanced to Helena and then back. "Not to remove the stone from Hogwarts."

He was sure Helena would have a reasonable explanation as to why Hermione was in Minerva's room versus her children or even her; but at the moan beside them, now was not the time to ask. "I have to remove the stone to begin construction using new…"

"No…!" Minerva gasped, startling the room's occupants. "Can't…"

Filius stepped around Hermione, instantly levitating himself to be at her height. "Minerva, we've removed two floors of stone and…"

"Ahhh….Filius." Helena held her hip and gently placed her hand upon her left shoulder while Hermione gripped Minerva's right hand and placed her other upon her right shoulder – careful to avoid the tubing. "The magic…"

"It'll reconnect…" he interjected at Minerva's gasp.

"No." Blurry eyes shifted past him, landing upon Hermione and she innately squeezed her hand; before forcing her eyes back to her long time friend and deputy. "See my…thoughts."

"Don't you even think about it, Filius Flitwick!" Helena's voice cutting across Minerva's still form. "She can't withstand…"

"She wouldn't ask him, if she didn't need him to." Hermione rasped, feeling as though the words were hollowing her very heart out.

"The pain…"

Filius merely ignored the words being traded between the two women, eyes fixed upon the murky emerald ones. He could easily see the pain, the worry, and a tendril of what could only be construed as hope – that he'd understood what she was trying to convey. He nodded, "Very well." And he lowered his body to the floor, knowing he didn't have the energy or reserves to levitate while using the spell legimancy and as soon as his feet touched the floor, he cast the spell; not waiting for Helena to stop him and express how poor of an idea it was.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Images fluttered, her thoughts as scattered as the wind; and the pain overwhelmed him. At first, the menagerie of pictures that greeted him were so fast, that he couldn't even comprehend. Until finally, they slowed.

It was of her brother, _'Callum.'_ Her voice drifting across his consciousness as he sat next to a much younger Minerva wrapped in a cloak, gloves and scarf tied about her neck.

"No," his rich laugh echoed along the snow laden loch, "but I do find her extremely pleasant."

"She's my best friend."

"Aye," he nudged his sister's shoulder. "And I plan on marryin' her."

"What?"

"Why do ya look so shocked?" Callum questioned.

"You haven't said more than two words to her in the last year." Minerva retorted.

"It's nah like she is the easiest person to approach," he cleared his throat although his voice was still gravely indicating to her how much it meant to him, "and don't ya go interferin'."

She reached out, placing her hand atop his. "I'll only do that if you break her heart."

The light cut across his chiseled features as he turned to gaze into his sister's eyes, "I'd never." Sincerity flashing in his, "I really like her Minerva," voice falling even deeper, "And if she'll have me, I'd bind myself to her just like our great-grandparents…"

Filius drew in a deep gasp, "I never knew."

_'No one did.' _She replied, _'Not even Helena. He died that spring.'_

Again the image shifted to that of Albus and she standing on a veranda. _'The day we became bound.'_

He could hear strains of their words as they spoke, "…starlit sky, to have you…" and the image shifted again.

While both Albus and Minerva remained, the scene shifted. "Did it not occur to you, that perhaps, I may _want_ to have a say in something that could have an irrevocable impact on our life?"

"Last night…"

"Had been theoretical."

"It will _only_ be for a few years and then we'll dissolve the bond."

And it jumped again…this time the room was black and an image of an ethereal person neared. _'That is Hogwarts.'_

"What do you mean?" He asked, glancing at the mercurial being.

_'It's alive.'_ She slowly forced her body to appear next to his. _'Like you or I.'_

"That's impossible."

_'The corridor I exploded is equivalent to his central artery, and the pieces of the corridor have to be reassembled accordingly.'_

"There is no way to differentiate the stone from each floor."

_'You must.' _Her voice wavering…as she gazed forlornly at him. _'It's one of the original corridors built by the founders, the two passages leading into the Heart are the main arteries for the whole of Hogwarts – the ebb and flow of all the magic.'_

"You won't survive."

_'Hogwarts will be crippled if you don't."_

"Minerva – "

_'I'll be dead within a year, either way. But you can't leave Hogwarts crippled. You are one of the brightest and most skilled wizards I ever had the pleasure to work with, you'll sort it out."_

He blinked and she was before him on her knees, "Minerva?"

_'Filius….' _She gasped…and the images tore through them as her body fell to the floor.

An image of her running down the hallway, face becoming ashen…the world fading from view when a pulse seemed to jolt through her as a student rounded the corner, two death eaters in her wake…a surge of magic streamed through her and he watched as she suddenly stood; wand having jumped into her fingers and the stone seemed to separate and a bone rattling snap jerked their bodies to a sudden stop –as Hermione Granger's face came into focus.

It was overridden by a look of utter hatred as a curse flew from her wand and spiraled at an alarming speed towards the gate…erupting along the iron as the wizard dove past the wards and a gasp for life drew his attention to the harrowing visage of her daughter's bloody body.

Before being melted away by a crackling fire, and the warmth of the famed McGonagall Manor's library as the image of Hermione came into view – a present nestled to the right of Minerva as the chorus of children could be heard amidst the ambient noise. A bottle of wine opened and mostly drunk; two glasses partially filled…as Hermione animatedly talked. It morphed and a child was upon either side, paper strewn about the room; as the image of a cat tree house came into view – causing a beautiful ring of laughter to erupt from Minerva's lips.

And then the dire expression of young Samantha as she lunged forward, rolling and grabbing Samantha to her as the fire barreling down the hall scorched the edges of her fingers as the protego charm sprung forward and the rush of magic roared past…and Filius blinked, gasping…as he desperately tried to remember to breathe.

"Filius." Helena repeated placing her fingers on his pulse, "Breathe. That's it. You need to breathe, your pulse is double as it should be."

Golden eyes focused, "Helena…" he swallowed, as he tried to sort the images out eyes turning to Minerva. "How is she?"

"She's been better." Helena answered, drawing his focus – and he immediately tried to clamber upright.

"Is she alright?" His voice rising in concern at the blood littering her robes.

"I hope you got what you needed." Helena extended her hand to him, helping him up.

Filius glanced up to her, mouth open…memories of _her_ brother and the dreams of youth so fresh…but forever lost and he clamped his mouth shut and merely nodded. Some things were better left, unsaid. He squeezed her forearm and both shared a long moment, and he gazed back to Minerva and then Hermione. "We have to sort and repair the corridor; the stone has to remain within the appropriate hallway."

A chortle left Hermione's lips as she met his gaze with her own fatigued one. "You must be joking, how are we to know which pieces of stone go to which corridor?"

"Well, you aren't going to ask Minerva, she's off limits." Helena snapped. "You'll both have to figure something else out."

Hermione sighed as she sat down, trying to forget the way Minerva's heart rate had plummeted and then stopped less than two minutes ago. "Did she say anything else?"

"First, you were right Helena; Hogwarts is alive." He forged ahead, if there was any two persons who would believe what he had seen, it would be the two within the room. "And the corridor she exploded is equivalent to a central artery, and the pieces of the corridor have to be reassembled accordingly. It's one of the original corridors built by the founders, the two passages leading into the Heart are the main arteries for the whole of Hogwarts – the ebb and flow of all the magic upon the grounds."

"Apparently when discussing Hogwarts with Albus and Minerva, I never asked the right questions." Harold's voice shocking the entire room.

"Harold?"

"Hun?"

"Any ideas that would help sort the stone?" Hermione asked, desperately trying to remain focused on something other than Minerva's blood drying on her forearm and shirt.

"Yes," He rumbled, "I'll get dressed. There is something we've tried regarding magical signatures in the Department." He glanced meaningfully at Helena and then Hermione who was standing to follow Filius and Harold out.

"Hermione, can you remain a moment?" Helena reached out, fingers lightly applying pressure upon her arm to halt her movement. Brown eyes turned to her, and she waited to say anything until the door to the room closed. "I need you to stay here."

"What?" Hermione went to pull away, "No, I need to help Filius, Harold and everyone else to repair Hogwarts because Minerva…"

"Harold's going for you, Hermione." Helena interjected. "I need you here." Voice becoming soft, "The reason I asked you to stay earlier, is the same reason I need you to stay now."

"What?" Hermione blinked and she tried again, "I don't understand. What aren't you saying?"

Blue eyes took in brown ones, hand drifting up her shoulder. "For some reason, she's responding better when you're near. And, I need every advantage to keep her alive until Filius can make the necessary repairs."

"Why me?"

Blue eyes met hers, cadence unusually soft as she answered. "You are one of the handful of people in her life who she is comfortable with."

"But how would she know its me?"

"She's an animagus, Hermione." A wan smile pulled at her lips and caused blue eyes to sparkle. "She can tell when you walk into a room. One night a group of us were having fun and blindfolded her; she could tell who each of us were, despite spraying another's perfume – although that worked for the first person, but afterwards, she could tell through other means. From our gait, our breathing, our scent – people she cares about; it's as second nature to her as using her wand. Subconsciously, she'll know who's here whether she's awake or not."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: I thoroughly hope you enjoyed and I'll see you lovely folks in 2 weeks. _

_Below is a listing of several characters that are within Bonding and who I have over the course of the last year or so thought that x actor/actress would be a great X person. There are still a few people I have yet to 'cast' and the list is not by any means all encompassing. However, read on if you care. _

_Minerva McGonagall – Maggie Smith minus 8-10 yrs from the 1__st__ Harry Potter movie_

_Hermione Granger – Emma Watson – Hermione at age 30_

_Helena Harrison – Helen Mirren_

_Harold Harrison- Bernard Hill_

_Rory Wallace – Gabriel Byrne_

_Derrick McGonagall – Alex Pettyfur_

_Callum McGonagall – Jude Law_

_Aegis Black – John Glover with long hair_

_Johannes Harkiss – Rufus Sewell_

_Percival McDore – Toby Stephens (with slightly longer hair)_

_Audrey McDore – still working on_

_Tessa O'Connell – Joanna Gleason (lawyer from WW that dated Leo)_

_Malcolm O'Connell – still working on_

_Esmerele McDore – Eva Green _

_Samantha Meaur – Georgie Henley_

_Jordan Meaur – Gwyneth Paltrow_

_Matthew Meaur – Clive Owen_

_Michael Evans – Jamie Bamber_

_Harold & Helena's son – William Mosley_

_Marx Hesch – Paul Bettany_

_Gawain – Stephen Fry_

_Douglass Darin – Dougray Scott_

_Adam Brunt – Patrick Stewart _

_Victoria Brunt – Gates McFadden_

_Andre Aegis – Jeremy Irons_


	79. Chapter 76 January 2nd, 2010

**Chapter 76 ~ January 2****nd**** 2010 (Saturday)**

Hermione tried not to look as Helena pulled the blankets and sheet down, exposing the port upon her chest and the bloody bandages around it. "It's still leaking." Hermione breathed.

"I know." She murmured as sure fingers moved along the skin. "I'll need to start filtering in the last half pint of her blood this morning."

Hermione glanced to the clock, it wasn't quite 4am. "Before or after breakfast?"

"Just after." Helena gingerly peeled the gauze back, pausing and glancing up to her. "If this bothers you, I'll be done in a few minutes."

"How can you separate out what you are doing and to whom?" Hermione took a half step closer, eyes meeting Helena's before falling to the port in Minerva's chest.

"The first two dozen times she came into the medic tent, bloody – I thought my heart was going to stop." Helena adjusted her glasses with her wrist, "Then I began realizing that seeing my best friend come through the tent, bloody and alive was far better than her not coming back at all." Helena's voice dropped as she returned to the job at hand. "She's always come back."

"She will this time too." Hermione tried to reassure.

"Yeah." Helena whispered and forced a hint of hope into her voice. "She will."

It was hard not to notice the long scares across her chest around her the port, another one along her collarbone and she could see a hint of one upon her side. "How many…" her hand hesitantly stretched forward to the bit of discolored skin, "scars does she have?"

Helena gently applied pressure to the temporary skin graff that was leaking,

"Several dozens. Most are small," she wandlessly repaired another small vein that had burst, "scattered across her back and waist, she does have a few on her chest," she pointed to the ones visible, "across her thighs, and a long one down the inside of her left arm from her shoulder to elbow and…" she paused nodding to Minerva's hand, "inside of her right palm."

"Is there anywhere she isn't scarred?" Hermione stepped back, fingers tentatively turning Minerva's hand over to see a knut size faded scar. And she…stared at it disbelieving – she'd known her for months, played chess…and she had never noticed it.

"Doubtful." Helena began placing new gauze around the port.

"I've never seen this before." Hermione whispered to herself.

"I have no doubt." Helena replied, "She's very sensitive about it."

"Her hand?" Hermione glanced up.

"Her scars." Helena quietly answered.

"What?" Her brows narrowed as she laid Minerva's hand gently back down, "Why?"

"There." Helena murmured as she reconnected the tubing back to the port. "She's self conscious of them."

"I don't understand her logic."

"They are not only a blemish upon her skin, but a story about her life; and she has never been keen upon sharing it with most people – and when people see a scar their natural inclination is to ask…"

"How you got it." Hermione finished.

"I'd wager 60 percent of the time, she was doing something that while not in her best interests; was in someone else's and she wouldn't want anyone to know about it."

"Missions with her and…Albus?"

"During Voldemort's last reign, I was treating one of the two of them at least weekly."

"Really?" Hermione couldn't help from keeping the shock from her voice. "They rarely missed meals, and Minerva never missed classes."

"Yes, well…neither one ever knew what it meant to give up, at any cost – save one."

A flash of a memory sparked and Hermione knew what that cost was. "Her family."

"Their children…" Helena's throat caught, "and mine."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Once you connect and begin filtering in the last of her blood, how long until she needs another transfusion?" Hermione sipped the last of her coffee.

"Tonight." Helena cleared her throat, "about 18 hours."

"I heard Michael relay that none of the samples you sent worked."

"The department of mysteries stumbled upon a – b indicators in magical blood."

"Subcategories – how do they affect transfusions?"

"They impact how quickly the persons magical abilities heal. Minerva is an O negative subcategory b…" Helena set her own cup down, "And with everything going on, it would be exceptionally helpful for it to be a match."

"Don't you have blood available for use in the advent of an emergency?"

"We rarely have any O negative in our stores because of its universal nature, and currently we have zero. If any donors with O negative comes in, it will be routed here."

"What about a muggle hospital?"

"I sent an owl last night to the one person who I know has O negative; but I didn't know of the subcategories at the time. He'll need to be tested."

"Who?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"And who is this for?"

Helena leaned heavily on the walking stick she had taken from Minerva's office. "I think you know, or you wouldn't have come."

"Then she is alive." He drawled, eyes scanning hers.

"She is."

He stepped back, "And how do I know you are really _you_?"

Both witch and wizard drew their wands. "Minerva brought you here after your release from Azkaban, so I could heal your back."

"Give it to her, Lucius." Aegis stepped from the shadows, Helena's wand shifting to his face. "We haven't time for this folly, as there would be no one else who'd know of this place other than Minerva's oldest friends; she shut this factory down before she left for the war with Grindlewald." He turned to Helena, "And you can put that down before you fall. If I had wished to hurt you, you know as well as I, that you'd already be unconscious."

Helena swallowed as she lowered her wand, "It's been a long time."

"It has." He neared Lucius, eyes scanning across the dusty clad barrels.

"One pint." Lucius remarked as he set his walking cane down and began rolling his sleeve up.

"She's going to need two." Helena pushed and icy blue eyes met the others…before finally the younger man conceded with a nod as he sat and laid his arm out.

"How is she?" Aegis kneeled next to Helena as she sat opposite of Lucius.

"I'm having problems getting the bleeding stopped," Helena honestly answered as she inserted the needle into Lucius arm and blood began pouring into the attached bag.

His eyes shifted from hers to the walking stick and back, and then to the bruise along her forehead. "And you?"

"Alive." She countered, "Though I've had a nip of a headache these past few days. Yourself?"

"Tired." He sighed, "But while here, I believe it might be prudent for you to relay some news to Minerva when she awakens."

"It seems that you temporarily have a captive audience."

"True," Aegis chuckled, "and how little you have changed. It's refreshing, really. A constant amongst the chaos."

"The news?" Helena redirected back.

"The book he took from the Manor wasn't the one he had believed it to be."

"What?"

"There are times I cannot help but wonder if Minerva should have been sorted into Slytherin." Lucius remarked. "She switched the covers off the texts."

Despite the situation and who she was sitting next to, she found a bubble of laughter spilling off her lips. "Did she?"

"Yes," Aegis and Lucius joined in, "she did."

"And he was none too happy about it either." A glint of appreciation sparkled in Lucius' blue eyes.

"What _did_ he get instead?"

"A third century text on magical topography."

"Thank Merlin." Helena breathed, "Finally some good news."

"However, it will be short-lived." A note of seriousness suddenly laced Aegis' face, "He is truly irate at being bested, again. Tell everyone to be exceedingly careful, especially you Helena. He knows what you mean to Minerva."

"I don't think my husband or the Minister of Magic will permit me to leave my home without protection."

"Then why aren't they with you now?" Aegis glanced about, "It doesn't appear as though you are in any condition to evade Aurors in your present state."

"She's not alone," Harold's deep voice rang outward.

"As though you'd be able to protect her old man." Aegis rebuked wand out and leveled at him, "You've been an Administrator for too long."

Harold quelled his retort at his wife's silent urging and he merely drew up behind her.

"No remark or rebuttal?" Aegis questioned and then felt Helena's hand.

"Drawing wands on each other is not why either of you came here, nor we."

Slowly Aegis' eyes slid from Harold's to hers, "For once, Helena – you're right."

"Do you know who he wishes to target next?"

"Either of you or Filius." He returned his wand to the depths of his robes, "Or Hermione…" He turned to Lucius, "That was who Douglass stated had gone to the Manor with Filius, was it not?"

"It was Granger."

"Then her as well." He stated, "His focus is on anyone who he can use to gain access to her Manor; however the two of you and Filius are far more personal to him because of what it would do to Minerva."

"Whereas the mudblood agitated Douglass, and he is hoping that since she came to the Manor with Filius – she must know of its location."

Aegis could see Helena's jaw ripple at Lucius' remark regarding Hermione. "Perhaps an ill-chosen phrase for a witch as talented as she."

"Thank you," Harold ground out as both Harrisons tried to sooth the other, "for the information."

Few more words were shared over the fifteen minutes, only long glances and stilted moments; the history between them too deep to overcome.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione shifted, trying not to be uncomfortable when Tessa stopped and openly stared at her upon entering the room. Helena had said that the children would visit promptly at eight, and as usual, she was right. "Where is Helena?"

_"I should have run the tests and have the blood by nine, however, her children will be here promptly at eight."_

_ "Then I can leave…"_

_ "Oh heavens no," Helena interjected, "not unless Jordan is with them. No matter what Tessa says, do not leave. The last thing I need is for her trying anything," she muttered more to herself than to Hermione, then realized how that sounded. "Without anyone there, she may want to run a diagnostic on her mother, and that would bode ill for her and especially Minerva."  
_

_ "Why? I'd think she'd be able to cast it quite well."_

_ "She can, and I don't want her worrying over the gravity of Minerva's condition; she already blames Hogwarts for so much, I don't think her seeing how grave Minerva is from protecting it yet again will help them." Helena narrowed her eyes at the label before drinking a fourth potion._

_ Keep it short and simple, _Hermione thought as she met icy blue eyes. "Procuring O-negative blood."

"But that doesn't explain why _you_ are here versus Poppy."

Percival nudged past his sister, "Because Helena knows _your_ lackluster bedside manner. Good morning Hermione."

"And to you Percival." Her smile innately widened at seeing his wife, "Audrey."

"Hermione, always a pleasure." She gave her sister-in-law a hug, "Malcolm coming later?"

Blue eyes flickered to Hermione and back, voice softening. "He'll be here shortly."

"How is she doing this morning?" Percival stepped beside his mother's bed, eyes skimming across her face before lifting to Hermione.

"Ohh…why don't I just cast a diagnostic…"

"Better, and no." Hermione answered while interjecting. "You are well aware that because of Minerva's precarious condition, no one but medical personnel are permitted to cast any spells within her room."

"Is that what Helena told you to say?" Tessa retorted, "Mother's precarious condition. And you _believed _her?" Blue eyes scanned brown, "But then, why wouldn't you?"

"Tessa." Percival's voice held a warning.

Hermione _knew _from the look being shared between brother and sister that something was passing between them, "Fine." She snapped, "I'll let it go."

Audrey rolled her eyes at Hermione as she walked to her husband's side. "She looks slightly more rested."

"Helena administered a dreamless draught and a pain one at 4 this morning."

"How often is she to receive them?"

"Helena is figuring every 6 hours."

"That's too rapid." Percival glanced up, "Do you know if she's thinning the dosage?"

"She isn't, the more frequent dosage is to offset her blood loss, in conjunction with a replenishing potion."

"Then she's still losing a lot of blood?"

"Just under a pint a day."

"Who's she getting to donate the blood?" Tessa questioned.

"I don't know." Hermione stated, knowing full well that Helena didn't wish the identity to be revealed.

"Oh, but I think you do." Tessa took a step closer as her husband entered the room, "You're probably in it with them both, aren't you?"

"In what?" Hermione rebuked, not understanding Tessa's line of thinking at all.

"Tessa, I highly doubt your mother or Helena would have told her and not the pair of you." Malcolm stated hoping to calm his wife's ire.

"Until this past week, I'd have believed you were right Malcolm; but yet, here she sits."

"As if that's an indicator." Percival rounded on his sister, "Because Helena trusts her to watch our mother."

"Then why won't she let me cast a diagnostic spell on her so we know what is actually going on with her; and not what Helena or mother have decided to tell us unless –" her finger jutted to where Hermione stood, "she's helping them."

"And so what if she is?" Percival countered.

A blaze sparked behind blue eyes, "She's a stranger!"

Audrey inwardly cringed, and in her periphery she could see Malcolm physically recoil. Neither of them could stomach when their spouses argued, "Enough. Both of you." She tried to interject, but it was a lost cause as Percival stepped closer to his sister.

"Who mother trusts!"

"And that makes it better, how?"

"Look, I have no idea what the two of you are talking about." Hermione tried to bring the siblings back from the brink.

Tessa chuckled as she mocked Hermione. "Ohh, what a relief." Her voice rose an octave as her auburn hair swung along her shoulder as she turned back to her brother – pointing in Hermione's direction. "She doesn't even _know_ what she's being used for, and _you're_ _okay_ with that?"

"Mother and Helena have their reasons."

"Damn fine of my older brother to finally pick up the family mantle and defend something."

"At least I have." His voice beginning to drop, "Where were you the night Uncle Abe died? To busy hanging the family plaques that has given you a sense of entitlement based upon _their_ deeds?"

"Oh shit." Malcolm and Audrey muttered in unison.

_It was like watching a train wreck, you knew it was coming – but you still couldn't look away…_

"Entitlement?" Blue eyes burned with rage, "As if you don't carry an aura of superiority about you. You have never cared for the ongoings of the wizarding world as long as you, Audrey and family were safe."

"As if you were so concerned when you were Lucius' lover."

"Stop!" Malcolm yelled.

"For your mother's sake, let it rest." Audrey chorused.

"Would it have matter if I was?" Tessa ignored her husband and Audrey's remarks, "You wouldn't have noticed, you were to busy bedding Amelia to notice that another war was on the cusp of starting."

"Or brewing a morning after potion because you forgot to cast a contraceptive spell."

"As if mother or father would have even noticed if I had been with child at the time, they were to busy with Hogwarts and the wizarding world."

_The whistle blew…_

"They would have noticed," Percival vehemently countered, "and _you_ know that."

"No," she spat, "they wouldn't have. Unless I would have born a child out of wedlock while at Hogwarts. They might have noticed then."

"They noticed with Callum." He challenged and even Hermione forgot to breath at that retort.

"Mother's prodigal son, of course."

_ A loud screech could be heard as the brakes grabbed to slow the inevitable…_

"Mother has _always_ been there for you, Tessa."

"And you are still mama's boy, living off the same _entitlements_ that I am and sitting once again in the backseat to all things Hogwarts."

Blue eyes narrowed to an almost hawk like representation, "Hogwarts didn't kill father or Esmerele."

"Like hell it didn't!"

_A combination of metal grinding and the off pitch horn blowing…less than 30 meters…_

"He died because of a curse that flung him from the Astronomy Tower and Esmerele died…"

"Because mother was late from a God damn Governor's meeting – that she was _supposed_to resign in!"

"That didn't kill Esmerele!"

_Twelve meters…_

"But it's killing her!" Tessa screeched, "And there's a fucking witch half my age and talent who is supposed to be protecting her!"

"You're just pissed that she didn't ask you!"

_Seven meters…_

"You saw her duel – and with mother's magic plummeting, it's only a matter of time until she gets killed!"

_Two meters…_

"Mother chose her! Not you!"

_Impact…_

"So, what – I can relish that she'll be dead in half the time!"

"You being with her wouldn't slow a damn thing down and Helena can still…"

"What? Glue the pieces when mother's magic blows her own body apart?"

A deafening crack rippled across the air as Tessa's head snapped back, hand drawing to the side of her face. "How dare you!" He roared.

She lowered her hand away from her cheek, and it was easily noticeable that a red welt had already taken shape as her voice turned lethal. "Stop denying it, Percival – she's dying!"

"And she'd be dying if you were with her or not!"

A second loud crack resonated between them, a gash gushing blood along his jaw. "But not if she left this God forsaken castle!"

"She'd still be dead within a few years."

"Years, not year or don't you want your child to know of its grandmother?"

"I can't ask her to stop being who she is."

"I'm not, I'm only asking that she chose us versus Hogwarts!"

"Hogwarts is her life!"

"I know!" She screamed in retaliation, "And it's fucking killing her!"

"ENOUGH!" A deep voice boomed from behind, causing everyone – even an absolutely stunned Hermione to pivot her eyes…and land upon the furious expression of one Harold Harrison.

"Harold, what is the…" Helena stepped into the room and one look at her niece and nephews faces told her all she needed to know. "If your mother wakes up, I'll let her speak to you." Her voice cutting, "However, as she's not awake…"

"I'll…" Harold interjected, "gladly do so."

Both Tessa and Percival turned to their uncle, "She's fine; our slight argument hardly disturbed…" Tessa's voice became mute.

"I guarantee that it shan't disturb her again," he could feel the raw energy pulsing in his hand and wand from his anger at Tessa and Percival. "Family or no, you've both lost the rights to visit…"

"Harold," Helena drew up to her husband, voice dropping. "If she doesn't make it…"

"You," he pointed to Percival, "Eight am and pm. And you," his hand moved to Tessa, nine am and seven pm."

"You know I have…" Tessa started but amended her statement at Harold's unrelenting gaze, "fine."

"Good day Tessa."

"I was…"

"I'd suggest you and Malcolm leave, now." Helena stated without an ounce of emotion in her voice.

Elgin appeared as did Tily beside Minerva's bed, "Mistress?"

All heads lifted to Minerva.

"Mom." "Mother." "Minerva."

"Child…ren…home…" Her cadence gravelly and raw.

No other words were necessary to the two elves, and before anyone could do anything else; two successive cracks permeated the room along with a blinding flash; leaving only Harold, Helena and a still shell shocked Hermione.

"How's the pain?" Helena swept forward and was beside Minerva in seconds, eyes noting the slight contortion of her facial features – an unfortunately clear indicator at how poorly her friend was doing. "I'll get you something."

"…ust…" Minerva forced her eyes to open, "watch…them."

"You'll be able too shortly." Helena patted her gently on the shoulder, "Not as though that's an incentive to get better."

"Well, she does owe us a New Year's toast." Harold had stepped beside Helena.

They watched her head lull, "I'll get you the draught, love. It'll just be a moment." Helena lifted her hand up, and as she turned; stopped at seeing Hermione appearing as though paralyzed. "Hermione."

Brown eyes blinked as the finally made eye contact to something other than her own thoughts and half bits of memories; "I…uh…a year?"

Helena reached out and grasped the other woman by the upper arm, "We'll talk out here." She stated as they made their way from Minerva's room. Right outside was a whole cart of potions, which Helena quickly grasped two from the selection before turning on her heel; "I just need you to give me a moment." And a flurry of maroon robes swirled about her frame as she re-entered Minerva's quarters, leaving Hermione speechless.

She had pieced together that Minerva wasn't entirely well, but a…year?

_ A year?_

She could feel the tears start to spill off her cheeks as a gasp for air filled her lungs, a year…

She was could feel a wave of anger swallowing up the pain and despair, the heart ache that had momentarily left her breathless.

"Now," Helena closed the door, "where were we…?" Her voice trailing off at seeing the watery eyes, drying trail of tears that had ran down her cheeks to the anger now pursing her lips and lighting a fire in the depths of brown eyes.

"Is what Percival and Tessa said true?" Hermione asked desperately trying not to be upset at Helena, but truthfully, she was finding it rather difficult. Because, she was sure if anyone knew Minerva's true condition, it was the woman opposite.

"Which aspect are you referencing Hermione," Helena tiredly pulled her glasses from her face, "as Harold and I only just arrived."

"A year versus years."

Helena could only imagine what the younger woman must feel or be thinking, and she sighed. "I can't give you all the answers you seek."

"But you know them." Hermione challenged.

"And I swore to Minerva that I wouldn't divulge the nature of her condition." Helena rebuked, "I have told you time and again Hermione, that _you_ must ask her. Not me."

"At least tell me if it is a year versus years and if that's why she's resigning Hogwarts?"

"I…"

"Please." Hermione interjected with a quiet heartfelt plea. "After everything, at least tell me that."

The wall of unyielding blue wavered and crumbled, and a heart-breaking truth could be seen in the mournful eyes. "It'll be doubtful that she'll be alive come this time next year."

It was worse than she could have imagined, "Even if she leaves Hogwarts or ceased searching for Harkiss?"

"She won't leave Hogwarts." Helena's voice holding a note of resignation, "I've tried several times, and as for Johannes…" she solemnly shook her head, "she's dying Hermione." Helena's words catching momentarily in her throat, "She has known it was coming for years, and she'd much rather die than someone else."

"I wouldn't have asked…" Hermione muttered more to herself, repeating Minerva's long forgotten words. Tears fell from mocha orbs, "She's getting weaker, magically." Hermione began understanding the webbing of words so cleverly crafted, that without knowing or spending an inordinate amount of time with Minerva; one would never know. "That's why she asked for my help, the burns on her hands…the healing. The more magic she expends the greater the burns and…" Eyes widened, "How much magic _does_ she have left? Is that what this is about? What's killing her? Wouldn't she just become…" Hermione's throat stopped as did her brain. Minerva McGonagall – a …

"a Muggle?" Helena finally finished. "The extent of Minerva's magic is for her to share, but that is one reason I asked that Tessa not be permitted to cast a diagnostic spell."

"If…" Hermione's brain sluggishly moved past the emotional aspect, she'd deal with that shortly. "If she stops using large quantities of magic, like at Hogwarts or…regarding Harkiss, then wouldn't it revert back to multiple years?"

"Perhaps," Helena carefully replied, "then again, would she still be the same woman if she barely used magic? It's as second nature to her as breathing."

"Even if it meant adding years to her life?"

"And if that life was extended at the cost of one of her children? Grandchildren? The fall of Hogwarts? Would the few additional years mean anything to her?"

"But…" Hermione's heart momentarily overruling her mind, "we're talking years versus a year. It's not a solitary gain, but exponential."

"And this is not a decision that has been easy for her to make…or me to accept."

"Then help her change it." Hermione retorted.

"We are past any point where even my words will make an impact." A gravity lacing her words, "Everything she loves is being threatened Hermione. And she'd rather trade the last of her life to save any one of theirs."

"Being a martyr won't save a life but cause guilt that…"

"Of the persons who are able to stop her, who would be willing?" Helena interjected. "Less than a dozen people are aware of her condition, and she is making the choice Hermione. One that is killing me on the inside, but at the same time – it's hers to make. Not mine. Not yours. The family's or anyone else. And, in truth, dying from her affliction would be far worse for her."

"I don't understand how becoming a muggle would be worse than dying."

"Yes, well…" Helena's voice cracked for at the mere notion of what Minerva's last days would be like, "it's not being a muggle that would be worse, it's the affliction that her magic helps stymie the effect. Once her magic is gone, she'll…" she could see the dread covering brown irises, "not have long in this world."

* * *

oxox

* * *

George drew to a stop, peering into the mammoth hole where two additional corridors used to rest. He glanced up to see the ceiling of the third floor and the well-worn hallway of the first floor. Rory had stated that the damage had been, confined albeit impressive.

_That's an understatement,_ he thought as his eyes took in the cavernous area once more before making his way down the back steps and to the first floor where his father was, Harry, Ron, a handful of additional trusted ministry officials from the Auror division and the Department of Mysteries, a large portion of the Hogwarts staff, and members of the Order.

The goal was simple – to repair the ceiling of the first floor before the end of day. He couldn't see how that was going to be an issue with this many witches and wizards, and as Filius continued on – George let his gaze slip upwards. He didn't see how they wouldn't be able to repair the entire area before dinner. After all, how difficult was it to levitate the stone, charm it in place, seal it and move forward?

Shifting his blue eyes landed upon Hermione, and he could see the worry emanating from brown eyes along with the distress. However, Filius' next statement made him immediately re-evaluate his previous thought. "It is imperative that the old stone be used on the same floor or ceiling from which it came."

"How are we supposed to…"

Filius didn't let Ron finish his statement, having neither the time nor energy to listen to such nonsense today. "Hermione, Rory, Harold or Clemons will work with you or whoever is assigned to helping sort the stone."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione waited until the door closed, and she sank heavily into the chair beside Minerva. She was utterly exhausted; emotionally, physically, mentally and yet – she couldn't bring herself to move. Instead, she let her eyes reassure her that Minerva was still maintaining, noting the steady rise and fall of her chest before sliding to her cheekbones and the slight purse of her lightly cracked lips, she was becoming dehydrated.

Yes, Helena had assured her when she entered; and they had exchanged a few words, but hearing it did not alleviate the need to _see_ it. Helena had said that Minerva had awoken two other times, each time she was in a great deal of pain. To offset the pain, Helena had administered potions regularly; however, if it continued she would have to place Minerva into a medically induced coma.

Hermione noticed the additional tubes, and she quickly realized that one was for fluids; and the other…a pain potion. "A year." She whispered, innately reaching out; finally voicing what her thoughts had been fixated upon since this morning. Her fingers grazing the cool skin along the back of Minerva's hand. _And from the look Helena gave her this morning, it'll probably be slightly less, _she thought as she continued tracing the back of her hand as tears blurred her vision and fell unbidden down her cheeks.

"God Minerva, how…do you get up every morning?" She whispered, "Why do you do continue to sacrifice yourself when no one will know," her hand drifted past the wrist, "and that probably includes your children." Her cadence catching at the next words, "And me too. Why won't you live the last of your life and not worry about Harkiss?"

"'ermione?" Green eyes fluttered and she tired to lick dry lips only to realize how dry her mouth had become.

"I'm here." Hermione brought her hand down and squeezed the top of Minerva's. "Do you need another potion? I'll get Helena, she's probably still awake." She stood but Minerva's voice stayed her.

"No." She breathed out, "St…ay."

"You're sure?"

"I'll be as…leep in minutes." She shifted her neck just enough to see the blurry lines of Hermione's face. "What day…?"

"It's Saturday evening. The repairs have started, but they are going far slower than everyone perceived."

"..ogwarts?" Minerva's voice could barely be construed a whisper.

"No one, including Filius, can get the stone to set. We had half the corridor set on two different occasions this afternoon and it didn't hold."

Minerva tried to nod, but gave up and forced the sparse words from her throat. "I…know."

"Harold?"

"I feel…" Minerva's breath lapsing as a tremor spiraled through her and her eyes widened. "No…"

"Minerva," Hermione stood as her elegant jaw clenched and a whimper left her lips as a light trail of tears slipped from the corner of her eyes. "What is it?"

"Try…ing…ag…ain."

"Trying?" Hermione's eyes flashed to the door and then back to Minerva, "You feel each time we attempt to fix the corridor?"

Pain began muting out all other tendrils of emotion, including fatigue. "Ye…s."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"…no…"

Hermione felt Minerva's hand clench beneath hers, and she took Minerva's hand. "Squeeze my hand, Minerva. I won't leave." Her voice softening.

"…talk…" Minerva rasped as long fingers unclenched and did as Hermione suggested. "…pl…ease."

"Filius has called in members of the Ministry; including Arthur, Gawain, Harry…"

Minerva tightened her grip upon the younger woman's fingers, wishing in a way Helena had been present, but letting herself completely rely on the woman beside her. She had to ask for what she needed, "Something…" her voice catching, she needed to distract herself from the pain, from Hogwarts, from…her life and the ebb and flow that seemed to be the very construct of her current existence. "…other…than…Hogwarts."

"Elgin reported that the repairs to the Manor…"

"No…"

Hermione absently nodded, "Alright," she thought of what else she could speak of with Minerva – other than items regarding her Manor or Hogwarts…and she'd guess her children too. Knowing what or rather who always brought a smile to the elder woman's face, she began relaying a note she received from her mother. "It seems that Rose decided to help mom yesterday in the kitchen while baking chocolate chip cookies."

A quiver of a smile touched the corner of Minerva's lip before it fell back into the straight pinched line of pain as she continued on.

"At first, each dough ball was placed on the baking sheet and flattened into a cookie, by the second batch, mom noticed there were a few less cookies. Mom initially thought it was because she had made larger cookies, and gave it no more thought, however – Rose asked if they could make another batch. I'd offer you one, as mother sent a small tin; but I doubt that would go with your current diet."

"…ounds…good."

Hermione ignored the way the bones in her hand felt as another wave of pain obviously pulsed through Minerva causing her to grip her hand even tighter. "The third batch is when mom noticed that something had been wrong. And for some reason, Rose was not very hungry for dinner later."

"…ate…the…"

"Yeah, she ate the dough. Almost a one to one ratio on the last batch. When mom realized what she was doing she quietly waited and could hear Rose saying, 'One for mom – one for me. One for Hugo – one for me." Hermione felt the grip on her hand finally lessen, "Hugo, though, was apparently too busy with showing dad how his stuffed animal worked to worry about it."

The lines creasing Minerva's face eased, another indicator that the pain had decreased. "How do they…taste?"

"Good with a glass of milk or even a cup of coffee."

"Then you must…go get one."

"Minerva…"

"You look as though…" she tried licking her lips again, "you could use it."

"Rather a warm shower." Hermione rebuked.

"As could…I." Minerva smiled weakly.

"I doubt Helena would permit that."

"Too many…tubes."

"Yes," Hermione felt her voice hitch at being reminded how many tubes were inserted into Minerva, keeping her alive.

"Hey…" Minerva could feel the change in Hermione's body, "these are temporary."

And despite not wanting to speak to Minerva about the dearth of time remaining, she found herself doing it anyways. Unable to keep it locked away, needing to understand, to know. "She told me, you have a year."

Despite the welcoming notion of sleep that had begun to creep along her consciousness, Minerva found herself far more awake than she thought possible as a surge of adrenaline pulsed completely through her body at Hermione's harrowing words – and what that meant. Helena wouldn't have told her without reason, and she had only divulged what she herself had to Arthur just last week. However, it didn't make the reality of what had just been spoken aloud, any less real. And she was not in any position to dodge, obfuscate, or hedge; the pain had stripped her of the ability to raise any walls or defense – and she found herself wishing to be anywhere else, at almost any other time than where she was; and what she would be admitting to – and who. The adrenaline had momentarily cleared her vision and she could see a swell of emotion staring back at her, and with great difficulty she found herself answering. "Yes."

"Minerva, I…why have you not told anyone? Me? The Order?"

"I'm sure…" she shifted her fingers of her right hand until they felt Hermione's and placed them atop, gently squeezing hers reassuringly. "Helena…told you."

"I can understand not telling the wizarding world, but the Order? Or me? After everything…we have been through."

"There…is…" Minerva's hand relaxed, the adrenaline already wearing off as her eyes fluttered. "…I do trust…you, Herm…ione." She forced her eyes open, the truth staring into brown eyes. "Very…much."

Hermione felt her breath hitch at the startling emerald eyes that met hers, while muted with pain they seemed to hold specks of silver before rolling back into her head, no longer able to remain conscious. Hermione continued staring at her, eyes boring into the now lidded ones – which had seemed a moment ago to reflect a depth of emotion that seemed to go on for an eternity. She had come to suspect that Minerva's eyes were the windows to understanding her emotions; but now…she believed differently. They were the windows to her soul.

Inadvertently she squeezed Minerva's fingers with her right hand and raised her left forbiddingly to just millimeters from Minerva's face. And she found herself unable to stop the tender stroke as she let her fingertips caress the cool, sweating skin along her forehead to her temple and the gently removing the wisps of pearly hair that had stuck to it – not understanding how this woman could have such little time left among the land of the living after having given so much. Nor, how she was going to cope with that knowledge as it had been ripping her apart since this morning…especially since all she wanted in that moment was for Minerva to open her eyes and gaze at her as she had only moments before – with no walls, no obstructions, just - her.

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Xoxo

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_a/n: Wow! I was totally flabbergasted and cannot thank blondie0136 enough! Utterly amazing! THANK YOU! for such an absolutely wondrous segment! I was utterly dumbfounded when I saw it! _

_THANK YOU AGAIN! It's exceptionally well done and a great piece of music! _

_For everyone who is interested, I received a note this am that blondie0136 did a short youtube video for Bonding. You can go to youtube - type in Hermione/Minerva and it'll come up. _


	80. Chapter 77 January 3rd, 2010

**Chapter 77 ~ January 3****rd****, 2010 (Sunday)**

_They were trying to repair the corridor again,_ Minerva tiredly mused as she fought to keep the whimper from escaping her throat as the pain increased. She didn't want to wake Hermione. She had looked utterly exhausted when she had awoken earlier, and now from the position of the moon's rays; she could tell it was between two and three in the morning.

Who knew what time it had been previously, but either way, she was assured the younger woman needed the sleep. However, as the weight upon her chest increased, her limited control began to give way as her lip slipped from her teeth and tears began filling her eyes.

She felt so weak, helpless…and despite every effort, she just couldn't hold the soul crushing pain at bay - Hogwarts' magic pulsed as the corridor tried to become connected; and she could feel the momentarily limited enjoinment, the relief and the sudden breaking, collapse and she tried once more to focus on something, anything else…other than the pain lancing through her.

Her eyes losing the ability to see Hermione…to see her soft locks of hair cascading along her rounded cheekbones, lush lips and deep brown eyes. She could feel her mouth opening, oxygen starved lungs needing air, but she held on – letting images of the woman flitter unbidden through her mind no longer trying to stop them.

Rather _wanting_ them.

Needing them.

Needing her.

And she let her need, her want…the love she was beginning to feel for Hermione sweep through her; and she felt her bond pulse in something other than pain – rather jealousy and a deep gasp of heartache left her lungs as she fell towards the abyss, a cry eschewing outward from the physical pain, that of her heart and from the chords of her bond; as her soul had begun to embrace the notion of love for another.

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Xoxo

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The harrowing scream that Hermione awoke to stilled her heart at the wrenching cadence, tone and pitch. It was as if it was coming from the depths of Minerva's being. "Minerva!" She innately reached outward, hands wrapping along both her shoulders to stop her from moving as her body thrashed against the bed – eyes wide with pain, tear streaks along her cheeks, "I'm here," Hermione stated as the door to her chambers swung open and Hermione didn't have to look to know that Helena had entered as the final dreadful chords of Minerva's scream fell from her lips before her body collapsed back into the bed; obviously spent.

"Minerva," Hermione began but stopped as it was obvious that she was again, unconscious. Standing upright she glanced to the tired and equally disheveled Helena Harrison who wore a frown that did little to help Hermione's worry.

"She can't continue like this." Helena rasped as she blinked again while running her hand through her blond hair. "The pain is going to rip her apart."

Elgin appeared beside the two women, "Blondie's, Madame Poppy bids you come at once to the first corridor. It has again collapsed and several of the professors along with the other wizards and witches are in need of medical treatment."

"We have to find a way to keep the corridors from collapsing," Hermione remarked to Helena, "or you're right – she will die from the pain. I think she can feel each time it collapses."

Helena's gaze remained upon Hermione's while responding to Elgin, "Please go ahead and tell Poppy I'll be there momentarily."

"At once." He stated before disapparating with a muffle pop.

"The curse that afflicted her connects her to Hogwarts." Helena stated eyes glancing to the blood leeching through on the sheet and sighing. "Damn." She muttered and peeled the sheet back to see a trail of crimson discoloring her skin, fingers already peeling the gauze away.

Hermione quelled a sudden sense of worry, "She's still losing a lot of blood, how long until…?"

"At this point," Helena took the soaked piece of material away from the oozing port. "I'd venture it to be three perhaps four days if her body can last that long from the pain."

"Connected to Hogwarts," Hermione muttered to herself and eyes narrowed; already striding from the room.

"Hermione?"

"I'll be in her office," she called out, "for just a minute, go ahead and go when you're done. I'll be right back." She finished as her feet flew down the brass staircase, casting an illumination charm as she went. Eyes instantly lifting to the esteemed wall, particularly the Founders group portrait. "You are aware what has occurred and undoubtedly have already spoken to Filius regarding the destroyed corridors and how to potentially repair them. However, it is not working. Each time we try to put any weight upon the area once repaired it collapses."

"Then, he did not follow the steps we outlined." Salazar retorted.

"Did you forget something?"

"Hardly," he quipped.

"You are not helping, Salazar." Helga interjected.

"As if your bumbling tripe will fix the problem." He snapped.

"Ask Helena how she would repair a ruptured aorta if the patient was Minerva." Rowena offered.

"I don't see how they are the same…" brown eyes widened as she recalled Filius' remark, "Hogwarts is alive and…the corridor is what – equivalent to an aorta?"

"There is a reason why Minerva is bleeding out, the same reason why the warding structure has grown weaker." Rowena cryptically stated.

"But that doesn't explain how to repair the corridor so that it will reconnect the hallways but the…magic too." The last part came out in a whisper as she began to understand.

"You are an intelligent witch, Hermione; as is everyone who is trying to set the stone. However, you are thinking linearly versus in the abstract; and believing what you see now is what we saw in the past. As we told Filius how we once crafted these corridors, but the inner halls were built before Hogwarts opened and we set the initial wards layering them, setting up a lattice network, and ultimately the school's magical core."

"Originally, what made up the magical core?" Hermione asked, especially curious.

Oddly, it was Salazar who answered with a peculiar expression on his face as he did. "An alchemist stone, the blood of the stone's owners, our blood and magic, and eight magical creatures – assisted in the original formation."

"The eight creatures that Harkiss now seeks?"

"Yes." Rowena answered, and no one else added any additional information.

"Okay, so the stone wasn't connected then; but surely since then those halls have had to have been repaired." She remarked glancing across the entire gallery, hoping for an ounce more of assistance.

"Magic has always sustained it Hermione," Godric cleared his throat, "especially given the area it was connected to."

"It wouldn't have fallen unless all of Hogwarts fell because the wards…" Hermione inwardly berated herself for not realizing this sooner, "were exceptionally strong along that corridor and probably…" her eyes gazed around the office, "here too. So the only way that corridor ever would have fallen, would be if a Head of Hogwarts were to purposefully collapse them."

"Even then," Dilys shifted to a lower portrait, "it would be near impossible."

"Then how did Minerva collapse the area?"

"She is probably the person who has the most knowledge regarding the warding, the Heart, the latticework and the entire magical structure of Hogwarts since our death." Godric acknowledged, "And she found or knew of a way to disable the wards along the corridors and…from what I could see of the spell, it looked as if she summoned the stone to her."

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Xoxo

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"Minerva," Hermione tried for the umpteenth time, hoping that she'd finally awaken. "I need you to wake up." She poured placed another drop of a pepper-up potion on her lip, trying not to notice that over half of the bottle had already been used. "Before Helena kills me for what I am doing and I regret it because something goes wrong." Fingers clutched at the sheet, and Hermione grabbed her hand. "Easy."

"Why…" she swallowed, able to taste the remnants of a pepper up potion, "are you…countering…?"

"I need you to stay focused, Minerva, for five minutes; its regarding repairing the hallway."

Her breathing was shallow and Hermione cursed herself as Minerva barely shook her head, a sheen of sweat already lacing her forehead. "…Fil…kno…"

"It's not working." Hermione countered, "I've spoken with the Founders and need to know how you collapsed the hallway."

"Broke…" she licked her lips, "wards, created…blood enchant…ment, trans…figured…" her breathing shifted and Hermione bit her own lip as Minerva's hand clutched hers.

"Transfigured what?" Hermione finally managed.

"Seems…" she finally breathed out, "into dust."

"And the blood enchantment was to protect Samantha?" Hermione waited for close to a minute, and other than the heavy breaths of the woman in the bed; no response came and Hermione swallowed the tears as she asked again. "Was the blood enchantment to protect Samantha? Squeeze once for no and twice for yes." Almost instantly she felt Minerva's hand squeeze her own twice.

"Somehow you broke the warding along the corridors, transfigured the seems into dust and then what? The corridors themselves wouldn't fall in, Godric said that you may have summoned them to you. Is that what you did?"

"T..oo…many." Her lilt practically obscuring her words.

"Too many questions?" Immediately she felt her hand squeeze twice. "Did you finish with a summoning spell?"

"Yes." She tightened her grip upon Hermione's hand, "Before…"

"You did something between transfiguring the seems to dust and the summoning spell." Minerva squeezed her hand twice, and she tried to ignore the way the more blood was leeching through the sheet. "Something that would shift the stone, unbalance it." A spark of hope jolted through her system, "You charmed the stone to be momentarily smaller."

Again Minerva squeezed her hand twice before forcing any words out, "Ju…st bottom…"

"Just the bottom row, which Filius should be able to ascertain if he were looking."

She let her muscles give way, head rolling to the side as she indicated yes again.

"Well, that makes sense why we can't get it to remain bonded to the stone next to the other; I don't suppose you feel up to morphing dust into an adhesive." She felt a gentle solitary squeeze, "Didn't think so."

"H…er..mio…"

"I'm going to stay until the potions…"

"Fix..ed." Minerva interrupted.

"We will." Hermione reassured, "Hopefully before the students return this evening."

Minerva squeezed her hand again, eyes fluttering as she fought for the words – "Must be…transformed."

"What if we use an adhesive..." Hermione stopped her question, mentally calculating the time. "Each stone will have to be placed, adhesive applied, set and even if it's charmed to dry faster – it'll be weeks to repair."

"Please…" Minerva murmured, and Hermione's heart ached as Minerva began speaking in Gaelic – and she understood the scant phrases passing over cracked lips. _"Just let it stop. Please. No more…pain. Just stop the pain. Please…" _her eyes fluttered open again, _"Please."_

Hermione reached forward, left hand skimming along her temple; voice cracking as she spoke. "You only have to hold on a little bit longer."

Minerva's eyes rolled back and a half breath passed her lips as her muscles again went slack and Hermione shakily drew back her hand to wipe away the tears that had started drying on her face. "Please forgive me," she whispered not knowing if she'd ever be able to forgive herself.

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xoxo

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Hermione paused at the foot of the stairs and took a deep breath before striding around the corner to see the man looking as he did last time. Lying on his back upon the floor, a well-worn book ensconced within his fingers and an air of indifference permeating the room.

"I didn't expect to see you again." Kane's voice echoed across the small space as she came to stand in front of the bars, his eyes having only flickered over to her and back. "And while curious, I believe I'd prefer to remain undisturbed..."

"The Minister of Magic has issued you a pardon." Hermione's interjection silencing his comment. "That is barring a bit of assistance."

Despite himself, he was interested. "I've had many pardon's dangled in front of me Hermione," he sat up and set the book appearing momentarily forgotten beside him, "what do I have to do for yours?"

"I can't say." She answered, "You'll have to trust me."

"Trust." He scoffed and grabbed his book, "While I like you Hermione, believe your intentions may be true, however," he began laying back down, "there's only one person who I'd trust with that open of a request. You know who it is." He set his head down, "Get her to come here and I'll gladly accept the pardon and the conditions of it."

"She's not well." Hermione took a step forward, hands finally coming to rest on the bars. "That is why I'm here."

"Well or not, if she needed me she'd have asked." He lifted his book up while crossing his feet.

"Dammit," Hermione snapped pulling on the bars, utterly frustrated by his lack of regard. "I've come halfway around the world…to bring you back to England, at least you could do is have the courtesy to look at me!"

"And you'd do well to remember that I've already helped you once." He said without glancing over, trying not to show how curious he was; nor worried. If Minerva wasn't well enough to come herself but another came in her stead, he had seriously misjudged his belief earlier since this woman's last departure. The question he now wondered, other than the obvious regarding Minerva's welfare, was why _this_ woman cared so much? Who was she to her?

"And I am grateful, as was she; however, I have need of your…"

Another set of footfalls came around the corner to reveal the very haggard expression of Harold Harrison. "You have 5 minutes to decide; speak freely."

Kane shifted his head, "Harold? Why have you come back?"

"The recording devices have been turned off?" Hermione questioned to the elder wizard.

"They have." He strode forward, pinning his gaze upon the younger man. "Because you have a particular skill set that would be exceedingly useful. One that, while it saved Hogwarts, has gravely injured Minerva."

"What did she transfigure?" He asked, no longer able to completely hide his worry.

"She disabled the wards along three floors of Hogwarts, shifted the rock and collapsed the corridors." Harold succinctly answered.

Kane immediately stood and glanced to Hermione, "Was she amidst the wreckage?"

"Yes." Came a raspy response, "And Helena is doing everything in her power to keep her alive, however due to extraneous factors her health seems to be linked to Hogwarts; and we need an expert in _transfiguration_ to assist in the repairs."

"Do you know what she _transfigured_?" He asked again, eyes fixed upon Hermione.

"We couldn't find any remnants…"

"I know what you couldn't find Harold," Kane stated finally standing opposite of Hermione, hands above hers along the bars, "no different than I can't trace your apparations; however, I know that is how you leave. Do you know?" His voice becoming soft as he directed his question back to Hermione.

"The seams." Hermione whispered, as an image of Minerva's gasping body filled her mind, instantly causing tears. "She _transfigured_ them…" her voice caught, and she cleared her throat, "into dust."

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oxox

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It had been years since he had set foot in the hallowed castle, a murmuring eschewing from the portraits as he climbed the brass staircase echoing his thoughts – it had been a _long_ time.

The décor had remained the same, save for an additional picture here and there; the pungent of odor of antiseptic and faint traces of blood turned his stomach. Pausing at the threshold of the door, he took a shallow breath and stepped in.

Immediately the blond locks fell away from a covered face to reveal the gaunt and muted blue eyes of Helena Harrison. "Kane." She tiredly stood and with noticeable effort came around the bed, "It has been a long time."

"It has," he agreed meeting her halfway. "You look a bit worse for wear." He whispered while giving her a hug.

"And you are in dire need of a bath." She chided stepping back. "Perhaps a new set of robes too."

"Undoubtedly." He turned and for the first time truly looked at the woman in the bed, and immediately felt a damn of buried emotion break at how weak _she_ appeared. Tears burned against his eyes as his throat constricted; her features having become ashen, lips dried and cracked, bruises of all shapes and colors marring her flesh and tubes…a half dozen of them swirling around her in an effort to keep her alive. "Oh…Minerva." He whispered drifting closer to the head of the bed. "How long?"

Helena waited a few moments until he glanced to her, "Filius will be here shortly, and if you are ready they will try again."

"Will repairing Hogwarts heal her?" He candidly questioned.

"I believe it will."

They held the others gaze for a long moment before he let his hand tenderly trail across Minerva's forehead, pausing at the pearly streak marring her once long ebony locks. "Do you think a set of robes could be rustled up?" He quietly asked as he pulled his fingers back and Harold answered him.

"How close in size would you like?"

"I just need the material." He turned to the elder wizard, "I'll adjust the rest."

"I figured." Harold remarked, "This way."

Kane nodded, but paused turning back to the woman lying in the bed – and with a gentleness rarely scene anymore he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "All will be well." He murmured keeping his gaze fixed upon her for another heartbeat before he turned and strode towards the door without a backwards glance.

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oxox

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"Who is he?" Ron muttered to his older brother as a man followed beside Filius. His robes were a deep blood red with black markings and silver trappings; he was as imposing as Harold, albeit younger and with a hard glint lining both his eyes and jaw.

"Kane Tsu." Rory stated stepping next to his lover and assorted friends. "He's a Master of Transfiguration."

"What do we need him for?" Ron turned to Rory, disbelieving. "Whatever he can do, I'm sure you or Harold or Hermione can do too."

"Why's he here?" Harry asked dodging the whole comment from his friend.

"We've been able to piece together why the hallway won't hold, Minerva transfigured the mortar joints into dust."

"If she transfigured it, then why isn't there a trace on the dust that it was once something else?" Ron retorted.

"Because," Rory took a half step closer, "she's still alive and some of the transfiguration indicators are only present when a witch or wizard who cast the spell is dead."

"Has Helena stabilized her?" Harry quietly asked partially listening to the directions coming from down the hall.

"She's still touch and go." Rory honestly answered as Filius moved closer.

"Alright," Filius turned to Kane, "For those of you who don't know, this is Kane Tsu, a Master in Transfiguration and one of the few who apprenticed under the Headmistress." A rumbling immediately swept through the small gathering. "He will be helping us with the seam lines as Minerva transfigured the mortar into dust."

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oxox

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A whimper left parched lips and Helena along with Hermione moved, "They must be starting." Helena glanced at the readings.

Green eyes fluttered and both her right and left hand gripped at the sheets of the bed.

"We're here, Minerva." Hermione whispered as she reached down and laid her hand upon Minerva's. "Helena and I aren't going…"

"….fast…." Minerva gasped as her jaw clenched.

The other two women glanced to each other, "What's too fast?" Helena quickly asked not liking the way Minerva's blood pressure was rising.

"Minerva…" Hermione followed up as she pushed against the bed lifting her lower back off of it and she joined Helena in holding her down as the port in her chest began leeching more blood. "You've got to…"

Minerva's body went slack as she drew in a deep breath, blood pressure immediately dropping as her eyes blinked open. Her fingers easing from the sheets as a faint smile pulled at her lips, "The pain…" her voice sounding coarse in the still room, "it's waning."

"Kane's transfiguring the dust back into the adhesive." Hermione explained and Minerva shifted her gaze to Hermione her breathing still labored, but it was obvious that it had become far easier.

"Is someone…" Minerva let her head relax fully into the pillow, "heating the rock anD…AHHHHH…." Minerva screamed as both Hermione and Helena grabbed onto her; the port becoming dislodged, blood pumping out of her body as spasm after spasm of pain rippled across her muscles.

* * *

oxox

* * *

A cheer went up along the group of wizards and witches as the levitation charms were removed and the stone held. Filius felt a measure of relief sweep through his tired body, they only had to repair two more corridors. While arduous, it no longer seemed impossible.

And then…they heard it.

All eyes jerked to the stone they had lifted the charms from only a minute ago as a deep shifting could be heard.

"It's givin' way!" Rory yelled as he cast a protego charm over Filius, the first stone striking the shield and crashing to the ground as the Hogwarts Deputy flew back to the far end of the corridor; while everyone sought cover from the mass of falling debris.

* * *

oxox

* * *

_"Just breathe." His voice cooed in her ear._

_ Minerva slowly blinked open her eyes, feeling as if the whole of Hogwarts was resting upon her chest as she met 'his' tired countenance. "How much longer can you sustain yourself?"_

_ "Far longer than you." He sadly stated as he wiped what looked akin to blood from his mouth. "They are getting closer."_

_ "Where…?" She took in the stark area, the lack of any other trappings. "are we?"_

_ Another flash pulsed beside her and she felt 'him' and turned. "Albus?"_

_ "Hello love." He strode forward, looking as tired and haggard as she; his eyes immediately sliding past her to land upon the ethereal being just beyond his wife. "And you must be…Hogwarts."_

_ Minerva felt his presence draw closer and she couldn't help but rest upon him; her fatigue as great as his – their bond pulsing and sharing the misery of the past several days. She could feel his curiosity but it was momentarily stagnated behind the mutual relief at momentarily not being in pain. However, that meant… "If I can see you," she pulled back to gaze at her husband, "I must not be doing well."_

_ "You are not." Hogwarts confirmed._

_ Albus leaned over, brushing his lips upon her forehead as they both enfolded their arms around the other; sinking into a welcoming embrace. "And why are we here versus King's Cross?"_

_ "You are here because of me." Hogwarts solemnly stated, "As the pain you both feel is from me, I feel…indebted to you for what you have done."_

_ Minerva pulled away from Albus to look at Hogwarts, "Where are we?"_

_ "I have…touched your bond to me and brought you here," he waved his hands, "to a place that for a short time knows no pain." His brows furloughed as his gaze became fixed upon Minerva. "Though, it is curious as to the nature of your relationship to 'this' being versus the others. As he is not here and yet he is through you. He feels what you do, and you he – he is or rather was a part of you."_

_ "While in life, we bound ourselves to the other in much the same way we bound ourselves to you."_

_ "Yes, I understand this." Hogwarts nodded, "But not why he and you remain as such when he exists on the next plane and you remain here."_

_ "I died," Albus began but was cut off by him._

_ "I remember, the sun has risen and set 4938 times since that night when I felt you both leave and stopped the…drain." His voice becoming distant, eyes latching onto the woman's. "You were dying too."_

_ "I was joining Albus when you stifled the drain."_

_ "Yet the drain remains as does your bond." Hogwarts stated beginning to understand. "As your magic wanes, you become closer to joining him."_

_ "Yes." Minerva easily answered._

_ "And what of her?" Hogwarts face momentarily shifted to that of Hermione, and Minerva could feel a jolt of jealousy along with their mutual unease._

_ "She'll remain." Minerva finally stated after a moments pause. _

_ "Ahhh…I feel your…" he narrowed his eyes as he stared at them, "discord."_

_ Minerva laid her hand gently upon her husband's arm, soothingly. "He can feel it Albus. He is a part of 'us' as much as we are of him." She stated, "And he shall not share it with another soul. It matters little if we state it aloud, the fact remains that while I love you; despite myself I am falling in love with her."_

_ "And the…" he tipped his head at the wizard, "what is that oppressive feeling that wallows in you?"_

_ Albus slowly met his wife's tired eyes and then lifted them up to speak with Hogwarts. "Guilt." Albus finally spoke, "That Minerva is here, that she has had to bear so much, that she was never free to move on after my death, that we bound ourselves together when there were so many years between us, that…I cannot love her, that I cannot sever our bond…"_

_ "Don't Albus." Minerva interjected, "I'll hear none of it today, we are both far too tired."_

_ "If we could separate the bond, you'd be free to live a life." He whispered staring deeply into her emerald eyes. "Even if it wasn't with her, you'd still be alive."_

_ "Do you think death scares me?" She rebuked, "Or the next adventure that lies ahead? I am as tired and weary as you, my love. Our bond remains as does my commitment to you."_

_ "I was right about you." Hogwarts murmured as he tipped his head to the side, awe filling his face. "You are 'her'."_

_ "Who?" Minerva turned, questioning._

_ "And yet you do not know, how peculiar." Hogwarts shifted his gaze past her to him, "The question then becomes if you…" his voice becoming ethereal, "are he?"  
_

_ "We don't understand." Minerva stated feeling Albus' mutual confusion._

_ "Indeed you don't." Hogwarts whispered, "But I must be sure either way."_

* * *

_Oxox_

* * *

Hermione gazed about her tired colleagues, hesitation lacing their movements as they collectively raised their wands. The last trial had felled two more persons, Ron was in the infirmary with a shattered pelvis and Gawain with a broken shoulder and several ribs…Minerva…

She blinked back the immediate flood of tears.

There was nothing more Helena could do, Jordan and she were there now; but if they failed again, Helena didn't believe Minerva would survive.

"Ready?" Filius called out and a cautious murmuring swept from the group.

Minerva had thrashed about, screams billowing outward until blood was spilling from her lips and literally drowning out the sound. She had flat-lined three different times, Helena had had to use the rest of Lucius' blood along with resetting the machine…

"Count of three."

She had never born witness to how a healer operates in an emergency situation. Had never been able to understand how someone could have that much blood covering them, especially given that the person they were typically trying to save only had so much of it in them.

"One."

Blood had been everywhere. Helena had to fix the port in between restarting her heart; blood pumping out of her body each time her heart restarted and the only change that seemed to permeate across Minerva's form was the complete lack of color in her skin and the sudden stillness that had overtaken her.

"Two."

Much later, after she had been stabilized; Helena finally spoke. _"She's slipped into a coma."_

_ "For how long?"_

_ Helena sighed, "She's exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, I don't think she'll come out of it unless the corridor is able to get repaired."_

_ "What if we fail again?"_

_ "She'll probably die. She isn't strong enough to survive another failed attempt."_

"Three." Filius stated and she felt a nudge on her arm and blinked the last of the recent memory aside and lifted her wand arm.

"You alright?" Harry murmured concern lacing his question.

"It needs to work this time." A strange conviction lining Hermione's words and Harry could only nod at her.

"We almost had it on our last attempt." Harry stated trying to reassure Hermione.

Hermione merely shook her head, "It's _gotta_ hold, Harry."

"Go!" Filius yelled and as one the group began lifting various expanses of the rubble. Filius charming the entire top row of stones to become slightly smaller to fit into the fitted section before expanding as Kane began transfiguring the dust; Rory, George, Arthur, Marx, Harry, Harold, Percival, Angelina, Hermione, Pomona, Aurora and five others continued levitating the stone.

Hermione could feel the weight of the stone, her own fatigue paramount from the last several days – and it seemed as if it was taking her whole concentration to remain focused on the task. While her hand and arm were no longer numb as they had become while fighting at the Manor, any time in the last few days she had used a large quantity of magic; it seemed to cause her to become fatigued at a far quicker rate. Unfortunately, today seemed to be even worse.

After ten minutes, she involuntarily lifted her left hand to support her wand arm; she could feel Harry looking at her concerned as Kane began to transfigure more dust into the second layer.

Fifteen minutes later and she could feel tendrils of sweat running down the side of her face, her back, between her breasts soaking her robes as she continued on – focusing on keeping the section of the corridor intact as another layer was added.

And another layer.

And another.

Until thirty more minutes passed, and the last section was raised. Hermione having long since lost any feeling in her arms, thought having revolved solely around doing what she had needed to do…and she almost relished the sound, as did everyone else as Filius in conjunction with Kane counted backwards to zero; wands blissfully being lowered.

Hermione tiredly glanced to Harry, and then back to the corridor. Everyone looking and waiting –

"It took over two minutes to give way last time."

"Two minutes…" Hermione quietly uttered as she wiped her forehead with her arm.

"You alright?"

She nodded, "Tired…" she narrowed her eyes at the stone, the seams in particular. "It's still wet."

"What?" Harry glanced up where she was looking. "What's still wet?"

"The seams." Hermione rushed forward, "Levitate the corridor! It won't hold!" At once, wands were raised and a flurry of spells shot forth; "The joints are still wet." She recalled Minerva's soft question before she had almost died from their last attempt. _Is someone heating the rock…_ "Heat the rock." She whispered more to herself than aloud and at once she thought of how many layers of stone had been rebuilt, mind churning at an incredible speed as the hall spiraled out of focus, the people, and she lifted her left hand – an incantation already falling from her lips as her wand arced and twisted in the air in a flurry of movement.

The air instantly became hot, a wind howled through the passages as the stone overhead began to turn orange along one end of the corridor.

"Aww…" Angelina moaned, "it's gotta be over a hundred."

"Hold it!" Harry yelled, "She's going to dry out the adhesive."

Almost as soon as he stated those words, the air became hotter and drier still…to the point it stole the very breath from their lungs…and half the wands buckled as people fell to their knees; Rory, Percival, Kane and Harry remained rooted as well as Pomona and Aurora, Arthur, and George's arm was shaking but holding while several of the others lay exhausted and gasping on the ground most too tired from the long days and ancillary injures having already sapped their reserves.

And Hermione pulled the warmth to her, she could hear the stone shift, water sizzle as the adhesive set and it was music to her ears – and her magic roared to life.

The orange glow which had been at the one side of the hall burst along the other side; and it remained stationary as if building up strength before it began to slowly move down the stone from both sides towards the middle where Hermione now stood below – a deep groan and cracking heard within the stone and it continued to grow hotter still and if by sheer force of will; the speed the heat moved through the stone increased.

She was super-heating the stone…and it swept along both sides…roaring down the hall, the orange glow illuminating the area…as it began to focus towards the center where Hermione now stood.

Percival flipped his wand within his fingers, adjusting his spell mid-stroke and turning it into a protego charm as the heat poured closer to Hermione; deflecting the singing air from the woman who fell to the floor, spent.

"Hermione!" Harry glanced to the corridor and then to her. Percival was already casting a spell and levitating her to them as Rory cast a cooling spell down the hallway; to ease the excessively dry heat.

Filius felt the cool air brush his skin and he pushed himself upwards, groggily glancing to the still holding wall and then to the handful of persons still holding levitation charms on the stone. "Let…" He swallowed and forced the raspy words from his throat. "Let go and see if it holds."

One by one the last of the wands were lowered and every set of eyes, even blurry brown ones waited. One minute passed into two, Harry and Percival both helping Hermione to her feet.

"Yeah," Hermione replied to Harry's earlier question. "Just _really _tired."

"I got ya." Harry murmured as she leaned heavily on him; their eyes still trained on the ceiling. "That was a helluva piece of magic, love."

"Thanks," she weakly replied, "and for saving me." She directed to Percival.

"Harry's right, Hermione, I haven't seen unbridled magic like that since…"

"Minerva or Albus." Kane supplied.

"Well done Hermione." Filius chorused as he took his wife's helping hand. "Well done indeed!"

"Too true," Percival quietly remarked as Hermione was congratulated by the others.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

There had been no change in Minerva's health, despite the fact that the group pushed ahead and finished the other two corridors later in the evening.

Helena glanced at her now sleeping husband, his fatigue having been palatable earlier. The volume of pepper up potions and chocolate consumed after the first corridor's repair had been nothing short of momentous – and frankly she didn't want to ask where Elgin and Tily had come up with as many potions as they had.

Especially considering it had surprised Poppy and Clemons, both of their stocks having already been laid to waste after the second corridor and from the last several days; there had been none left. However, when asked, Elgin and Tily had provided more.

And they had all been used.

Helena had been surprised to learn that the first corridor had been solidified, especially as there had been no improvement in Minerva's health. Not even a flicker along her heartbeat.

Six hours later – her readings remained the same.

Dismal.

She adjusted the bag and the fluids used to hydrate her; when she noticed her fingers twitch.

"Minerva…honey, you need to wake up."

The first chime of the tower struck twelve, and Helena blinked as a blue light suddenly sparked alongside of Minerva.

"Minerva…"

The second chime…and the blue light grew brighter and larger; morphing into a arm, eyes and Helena's breath hitched as the ethereal blue eyes met hers. They stared at each other until the bell tolled a fourth time; Helena innately stepping forward.

"Please help her."

The arm raised upwards, and at the next toll…it laid it's arm upon her leg; and then in a blink it was gone and the far too familiar blue light that she had seen so often after Minerva had been hurt enveloped her best friend.

She watched as her body lifted upwards, the port falling out of her chest and the skin closing as the sheet fell from her and the other tubes began falling out; skin slowly knitting together as the hue of her skin began to become milky versus ashen as the bruises littering her ribs faded and the bones that she had been unable to heal appeared to congeal…and she watched as Minerva's ribs expanded, a deep breath filling her lungs as the light began fading and her body began to fall back into the bed.

Green eyes fluttering open and Helena couldn't stop the tears from finally pouring out of her own, "Minerva…" she gasped, reaching out and wrapping her arms around her as she drew her into a hug.

"..ey." Came the murmured reply as the semi-conscious woman innately tightened her arms around Helena.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Helena admitted.

"Look whose…talking." Minerva pulled back, emerald eyes no longer muted in pain only laced with a bone penetrating fatigue. "I did almost lose you."

"Let me get you something to put on." Helena whispered, kissing her cheek before standing up; Minerva caught her arm.

"A shower would be divine." Minerva rasped, "Along with some water."

Helena's eyes crinkled as she nodded, knowing that while Minerva shouldn't be getting up; she also knew that the woman shouldn't be alive. But she was. "I think Elgin would be most pleased to get some water."

Without having to even say another word, Elgin appeared with a pitcher in hand and a watery smile with tears in his eyes. "Welcome back Mistress."

"Elgin." She murmured and reached for the glass, fingers barely clasping along the edges and it crashed to the floor. Elgin wasted no time and another glass appeared as the broken one vanished. "I'm…"

"You're going to be exceptionally weak for several days Minerva. It's been three days." Helena took the glass and sat next to Minerva, helping her sip the water.

"No's apologizing Mistress." Elgin blinked, "I'se just glad you'se alright."

"We all are." Helena genuinely smiled as Minerva took another sip.

"I'se starts some water and while you is showering I's change the beds and linens."

"Harold." Helena called and she felt Minerva shift, "We're both tired, love. He can help you get to the shower."

"You do wonders…for my humility." Minerva dryly remarked.

"And you," Harold's voice interjected, "scared the shit out of us." He leaned over giving both his wife and their best friend a long deep hug. "Merlin, Minerva…that was close."

"For both of us." Minerva whispered.

They remained together for another moment, and Harold pulled back; "I see my wife treats you as well as I." He slipped his arm behind her bare back, "I got you." He rumbled.

Minerva nodded and fought back the tears, "I know." And she wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up and for the first time since Esmerele passed, she let herself…be helped; not having the strength to do anything else but capitulate.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Hope you enjoyed!_


	81. Chapter 78 January 4th, 2010

a/n: THANK YOU everyone for the marvelous words of encouragement and I do apologize for the length between updates.

**Chapter 78 ~ January 4****th****, 2010 (Monday)**

Hermione felt like she was waking from the dead; every muscle in her body ached.

"ohh…." She moaned as she flung the covers from her, the cold morning air helping to awaken her further. She hadn't felt this tired since - the morning she had helped Minerva transform the bodies.

Minerva.

The mere thought of the woman propelled her overly tired body off the bed. As of last night, Minerva hadn't awoken and Helena said that her signs had not improved after the corridors' repair. She had planned on remaining at Minerva's the previous evening, but Helena had sent her to her rooms; her exhaustion tangible. She didn't even remember climbing into bed.

She peeled her robes off, obviously, she hadn't changed – she thought as she summoned her bathrobe. Blinking back the fatigue, she strode forward; wincing as she walked, even her calves hurt.

"Milksy…" She slid her arms into the robe, drawing it about her as the house elf appeared.

"Miss Hermione?"

"Have you any word regarding Minerva?"

The small elf's face broke into a huge grin, and Hermione felt her heart lift before she had a chance to respond. "She'se is fine."

"Fine, as in…"

"As in, Elgin has already taken her the morning report and she has visited the corridors you and the others repaired last eve."

Hermione's face turned into a frown, "She is acting as though nothing happened."

Milksy shook her head, "No's, she is merely concerned. Elgin said she is lying down until breakfast."

That took the air from Hermione's lungs, "Of her own volition?"

"I only tells you, because of your…closeness to the Mistress." A sheepish look spread across her face, "I should not be telling you'se. The Mistress will do what she always does." A sadness quickly replaced her previously guilty expression. "Being what she needs to be."

"Rather what people perceive her to be." Hermione swallowed the ball of emotion, "You said she is coming to breakfast."

"Yes," Milksy nodded, "Elgin indicated that the rest of her schedule today has been modified, but he wouldn't give it out. You'll have to ask he."

"Would you mind informing Bonnie that I won't have time for my Gaelic lesson?"

"She'se is still repairing the Manor, and had asked that I relay a similar message to you."

"Does she need help?" Hermione paused in her movements, "Has Minerva gone there? Will she?"

"She'se won't today." Milksy whispered, "But Bonnie is trying to get it sorted before she does."

"Is Elgin helping?"

"All the elves are, but…" she shifted uncomfortably on her feet, "there was a lot of damage to the foyer and…she'se wants it to be…like before New Years."

"Milksy, how damaged was it?"

"Noticeably." She carefully responded.

"Do I need to go there this evening to help?"

Golden eyes blinked up at her, pride flashing in their depths. "No's." She quietly replied, "Keeping the Mistress here for the evening…would be goods. Bonnie will take care of the Manor."

"Alright," Hermione said with a bit of trepidation, "however, I think it would be easier to go to the Manor versus keeping Minerva occupied for the evening."

Milksy chuckled, "You'se is right, but…" she laid her hand on Hermione's arm, "I'se believe you'se able to keep her from the Manor tonight."

Hermione nodded, "Very well." She felt Milksy's arm leave her own, and continued walking into her living room; the warmth from the fire a welcome relief to the chill that had taken up residence within her room. "If you would be so kind as to bring a cup of coffee, I'll…" Her words continued on to finish her previous thought, but they were far quieter as she stared at the lush vase of white roses sitting on her coffee table framed by the orange glow of the morning fire, "have it before my shower." She strode forward, "Who sent these?"

"I'se be getting you'se coffee." Milksy stated and vanished as Hermione speechlessly moved ahead, eyes having fastened upon the small note resting against the side of the vase.

Without effort she summoned the card and opened it; the firelight giving off enough light with which to read by if she tipped it to the side.

_Hermione ~_

_Thank you for all that you did._

_ It was and is most appreciated._

_ Gratefully,_

_Minerva_

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione gazed at the Head Table, eyes instantly gravitating to the center; and felt a measure of relief swell in her breast at seeing that Minerva hadn't made it to breakfast however it was immediately tempered by worry that something else may have happened or be wrong with her.

Sighing, and pushing the notion aside as she glided forward; wishing that the meal laid out before her was the evening one enabling her an opportunity to crawl back into her bed for a few more hours. Because…Merlin, was she tired.

And from the looks upon the other Professors' faces who had made it to breakfast this morning, she wasn't alone. The only one who appeared mildly rested was Filius; and she knew for a fact that that couldn't be farther from the truth. He had looked almost as ashen as Minerva last eve; and she found herself trying to _see_ through his impenetrable glamour charm.

Twenty minutes later, he still looked remarkably well rested and she was no closer to seeing through his glamour as she bit back her own yawn. Her eyes innately drifted to the still empty seat of the Headmistress and she couldn't help wonder what Minerva was doing or how she was.

"Hermione," Filius' voice pulling her from her reverie, "if you have a moment before class?"

"Of course." Hermione slurped the last of her coffee as she slid her chair back.

Almost as one, the Deputy and Professor left the Great Hall and veered towards Flitwick's classroom. "How are you faring this morning, Professor?"

"As well as can be expected," Hermione carefully replied, "and yourself?"

"Wishing for an extra day or two more before classes resume," Filius replied as he closed the door, casting a locking charm before he strode through a doorway that suddenly appeared in the back of the room. "Seems as though the last of the holidays passed by faster than I planned."

"That, they did." Hermione stated as she followed him into the inner passageways, a yellow torchlight springing to life. "Have you slept any since last eve?"

"A few hours," he stated over his shoulder, "and you?"

"I don't remember even going to bed."

His light-hearted laugh echoed off the walls, "I know the feeling." He stopped at a seeming blank wall and a door appeared as he reached forward and then immediately walked through and into Minerva's living area. He gazed about the room, and at not seeing or hearing any obvious sign of her; he cleared his throat, "Minerva?"

"In here." Came her distinct cadence, albeit far softer than usual, from her bedroom.

Filius knocked and edged the door open, "Are you certain you are feeling up for company?"

"Quite," Minerva laid a letter in her lap that she had been reading, as she meet Filius and Hermione's gaze, "however, I am not feeling up to my usual activities." She watched as both witch and wizard stared at her face for a moment and then about her body and bed to see if she was truly well. "And had hoped to speak with you both a moment before the start of classes."

Filius walked around the bed and with a wave of his hand was floating beside her, "First things first." Filius reached over and the two gently embraced, his voice remaining soft enough so only she could hear. "You had me worried Minerva."

At hearing his words, she innately increased the pressure in her hug for a moment before she kissed his cheek and through watery eyes smiled back before separating. "That was not my intent."

Filius turned to Hermione and noticed a flicker of hesitancy flash across her features before she moved around the bed. "Intent or no," Hermione met emerald eyes and was never so thankful as to see the crisp color, "that was a bit too close for comfort."

Minerva responded as she leaned into Hermione's embrace, wanting to hold it an extra moment but knowing that Filius' far too keen intellect would notice. "For everyone involved." She whispered, enjoying the fresh scent of almond, oatmeal and mixed with a hint of vanilla without the layer of chalk already entwined. "Thank you," her lilt resting between them as they pulled apart, "to you both."

"I am rather curious as to how you managed to disable the wards and pull the stone apart Minerva; the warding along that hallway is…" Filius left the statement open ended.

Hermione, however, finished it. "The strongest in the whole of Hogwarts, minus the area surrounding the portraits that leads to the heart."

Minerva's brow rose incrementally at Hermione's far too accurate statement, wondering how the younger woman had garnered that piece of information before she deftly moved passed it; not wishing to give it any more credence than necessary. She already had enough pieces of information to circumvent with Hermione without adding another, especially after this past weekend. "I didn't disable the wards, merely shifted them for several moments." Minerva stated, "However, I was hoping to delay the how and focus on the protection of both the students and the school. Has Rolanda said anything?"

"She's still unconscious," Filius answered, "Poppy said she should regain consciousness by the end of the week, the poison will be titrated out of her blood by then."

"Were any of the men captured alive?"

"Tenien killed one; the debris killed five and there are two others that Gawain has in custody." Filius recounted.

"Any information from either one?"

"They aren't talking," he continued on, "Gawain was going to use Veritasium today and will relay the information as soon as it is available."

"The more troubling concern is how to protect the students," Minerva's voice already sounding fatigued from their short conversation.

"Has the Governors called for a meeting?"

"Yes, tomorrow," Minerva replied with a groan, "and I don't want to contemplate it." Her eyes flickered back to Hermione, "Did Myriam tell you why or give any additional clues as to her betrayal?"

"She said I wouldn't understand, before trying to erase my memory."

Minerva's gaze remained locked for a moment before returning back to Filius, "Assemble the Professors this evening, spouses, and the previous Professors and their families. I'll have Clemons provide the whole of his veritasium stores in conjunction with what stock Percival has and ask Harold for the Department of Mysteries reserves."

Despite his best efforts, Filius couldn't keep his face from showing how aghast he was at what Minerva was insinuating. She was too tired and… "You mean to speak with the whole of the staff this evening?"

"No," Minerva stated, "_we_ will be speaking to the whole of the staff, minus Hagrid, Pomona, Poppy and Marx."

"Minerva," Hermione took a half step closer, "after everything that has happened, you don't need to push this soon; we can speak with the staff."

"I concur," Filius stated, despite feeling his shoulders sag. He was exhausted before the day had begun, let alone with this to be done before the end of the day. "You should rest, regain your strength."

"As if either of you had any rest since the other evening," her lips pursed, "I think not. We'll divide up the persons," both Hermione and Filius were about to interrupt but Minerva held up her hand to stay their commentary, "I'll take the least amount."

At seeing the set of her jaw, Filius knew better than to argue and sighed. "Very well."

Hermione's head instantly snapped to Filius, her gaze disbelieving. "Are you both daft?" Instantly golden eyes latched onto hers, "You are as exhausted as I," her tone rising in time with her gaze, "and you," brown met emerald, "used the entirety of your nine lives in the last two days. Do you both not think this cannot wait one more day? Do you believe Johannes would be so desperate as to try something upon Hogwarts again after the debacle from the last time?"

"He will try again." Minerva's voice holding an edge despite her apparent fatigue.

"Undoubtedly, but why so soon? Whatever he wanted from the Manor, he was probably able to retrieve; we weren't able to stop him Minerva."

At this Filius nodded, "He accessed your library before we arrived."

"He did not get the book he believed he did," Minerva remarked, "rather an old text on magical topography."

"What?" Hermione and Filius chorused.

"A little over a month ago, I moved the Founders texts to my personal library, and transfigured the covers of some of my other aged tombs to match the Founders ones."

Hermione felt relief and anger swell within her breast at once, "Then we hadn't needed to go to the Manor?"

Filius instantly 'saw' where Hermione was heading and inwardly cringed, knowing that Minerva wouldn't have asked them to go without reason – despite the seeming futility of it, however, knowing that was not the case. The spark of red flashing behind her emerald eyes gave all the answer he needed and without thought, he stepped between the women. Fatigue and high emotions would led to quick misunderstandings…

"If he were to look have read any of the book versus only looking at the cover, he would have known immediately he had obtained the wrong one."

"So we were sent there to ensure the ruse worked?"

"Hermione…" Filius placed a hand upon her forearm but Minerva was already answering.

"No, rather to ensure he did not find the original and perchance stop him. Additionally Hermione, I'd have thought you'd also take into account the house elves lives. As they will protect the property and its inhabitants at the cost of their own lives." Minerva honestly relayed, continuing on as Hermione opened her mouth; a look of disbelief and momentary horror etched across the witch's younger features. "I had never intended another to go in my stead, however, his arrival at the Manor was well timed as I was busy elsewhere and asked Elgin to take Filius and when he stated you had returned to Hogwarts," the inflection causing her burr to become deeper, "you as well. If I could have left, I would have. As I have some unfinished business with Johannes that I'd prefer to finish, personally." _Before I cannot, _Minerva silently thought before continuing on. "And I have already received word that he means to strike again within the next week against someone close to me; as he is quite irate at being bested, again. So," she leaned back into her pillows, feeling tired, "while we are all quite fatigued, it cannot wait another day Hermione. No matter how much I wish it could. I will not risk the children." Her features falling despite the conviction still held within her cadence. "At any cost."

"Do you want to assemble them after dinner this evening in the Great Hall?" Filius questioned, wanting to move ahead and finalize the details. He still had to prepare for class which started in less than twenty minutes.

"Yes," Minerva nodded as she met his gaze, "and if someone fails to partake in the test; they will have to leave Hogwarts."

Hermione bit her lip from commenting about how Veritaserum didn't work on Minerva, she merely kept her gaze fixated upon emerald eyes as Filius continued on.

"I'll draw up a list and divide them out."

"I have canceled my schedule for the day and will do that between resting," Minerva interjected. "Which will enable you both to get a bit of rest yourselves today between classes."

Golden eyes met hers, "Very well. Will you be at lunch?"

"Take the time and rest, I will attend."

"Are you feeling up to it?" Hesitation laced his voice.

"More so than you, my friend." Her lips curled into a gentle smile, "You are in dire need of some sleep Filius, before the palor of your skin becomes any greyer."

"I shall be at dinner." He motioned and floated next to her and kissed her cheek, "Tell Helena good day when she comes back and do get some rest this afternoon."

"I will." She squeezed his upper arm as he descended back to the ground and he smiled at her and then met Hermione's gaze with a questioning one of his own before leaving Minerva's bedroom and the two women alone.

"Are you sure Veritaserum will work?" Hermione quietly asked.

"Yes," Minerva answered, not feeling up to fencing with the younger witch, "it will."

"It doesn't on you." Hermione countered, wishing she didn't have to push; but needing to ask to ensure that Minerva had factored that _small_ tidbit into her analysis or perhaps divulge why she was so certain it would.

A deep breath fell from Minerva's lips as she let her body sink more into the pillows propping her back up. It was getting more and more difficult to evade the stark truth regarding her bond to Albus and Hogwarts as Hermione continued to learn about her. "There are extraneous factors that enable me to direct the effects of the Veritaserum upon my system."

"And you are certain that no one else is affected in the same way?"

"Quite," Minerva succinctly stated, however at Hermione's dubious expression she found herself moderately elaborating. "One factor corresponds to the same reason I am healed at Hogwarts."

Hermione found herself nodding, eyes sweeping across Minerva's tired countenance again and again; afraid she were dreaming that Minerva was indeed going to be alright after having come so close to dying yesterday.

"Hermione…"

She feigned a smile at hearing her name, "Sorry, I just…you were on death's door less than twenty-four hours ago and your recovery is nothing short of miraculous. You slipped into a coma yesterday…" she cleared her throat to dispel the emotion, "after I woke you, and I…" she shook her head to stall the tears to no avail, "God, I don't know if I could have lived with myself if you hadn't pulled through."

"I did, and while not a hundred percent, I am doing far better." Minerva pushed herself forward despite the catch in her lower back and hip, reaching outward with her right hand to take Hermione's. "You did what you had to dear, and if I hadn't made it; it had nothing to do with you." She gently squeezed her fingers, "Rather the opposite, it seems. As you did everything within your power to help save me."

She should have waited to ask, but the burning question needed to be asked to ease both her curiosity and to enable her to put the absurd notion that Helena had stated to rest. Because, how could Minerva only have a year left? "Is what Helena told me true?"

It took everything in her power not to pull her hand away from Hermione's as her heart skipped a beat and her mouth suddenly went dry. She and Helena had spoken briefly last night before she slept and for some time this morning before her departure, both sharing a sundry of information; however, whatever Hermione was referring to had not been broached. Or more aptly, forgotten. "What…" Minerva forced the rest of the words through the cotton residing in her mouth, "did Helena tell you?"

Brown eyes scanned the suddenly reserved green ones that held a hint of trepidation and she found a far different response slipping from her lips. "What secret remains that plagues you so deeply? What are you so frightened of me, or any other, learning?"

Minerva swallowed her fear, opting for another tact as the one she was upon would quickly lead to her downfall. She would not be able to hold her tongue to the gentle words and caring open gaze. "If Helena told you, then I fear you have learned what I sought to keep hidden."

Hermione thought back to Helena's expression from that night, along with countless inferences lost upon unknown ears; and her heart pounded wildly against her ribs as everything crystallized. How Minerva's face briefly faltered at the start of term when referencing Gryffindor winning the cup next year versus this one, why she suddenly asked Hermione to train with her, how the blackening that had once marred her wand fingers and hand now spread across both and her arms, how she was looking to 'retire' from Hogwarts following this term year, Arthur's odd withdraw on Christmas eve that dealt with Minerva and the burden within his eyes – she had told him…as the Minister…Hermione suddenly realized. Not that she was going to retire but that she was dying. The ostentatious parties…lack of commitments to Rose and Hugo for the summer or her grandchildren…the look in Helena's eyes at Christmas dinner…her son's heartfelt gaze, words…why they had been so protective. It was why Minerva fought back against Kingsley – was pushing with Harkiss; and she felt tears blurring her vision as they dripped from her lashes and splashed heedlessly down her cheeks. "You…she said," her voice sounded strangled to her own ears, "you're dying."

"I told you that what afflicts me will claim my life, my dear." Minerva softly stated.

"Within the year." Hermione stared into green eyes, waiting for her to move to rebuke the statement – something, anything other than what she did. She merely met her tear streaked face and slowly, almost reverently nodded and Hermione vaguely heard a gasp slip outward and felt her own hand clamp over her mouth as the tears pushed harder against the back of her eyes and Minerva's soft lilt and harsh words passed between them.

"In all likelihood, I'll pass the veil before the start of term this next year." Minerva gently corrected.

Hermione closed her eyes, willing the heartache to cease even if only momentarily as she brushed away the tear streaks with the back of her hand and with a steadying breath reopened her eyes to meet Minerva's. "Is there nothing that can be done?"

"No." Minerva's crisp words a startling contrast to her soft voice. "It is beyond even Helena's scope."

"And saving Harry or bringing down Hogwarts; did either of those shorten your life expectancy?"

"Hermione, please…"

"Leave Hogwarts now." Hermione breathed out in a rush, "That's it isn't it? Something here not only is keeping you alive but killing you; and what would happen if you simply left? How much longer would you live? Five, six years? A decade? Filius can take over Headship and for the rest of the year I'll be his Deputy, but leave if it'll save you. Hogwarts isn't worth your life."

"I'll be dead either way." Minerva finally answered, "Though if I were to leave it would extend my life by months, perhaps at this juncture a year, but to what end? To have someone else die in my stead trying to stop Johannes?"

"Stop being a martyr." Hermione continued on not allowing Minerva to interject, "You've given enough up for the wizarding world, it doesn't need to claim your life too."

"It already has." Minerva honestly answered, causing a look of disbelief to flash across Hermione's face.

"Minerva…"

With a stilted shake of her head and a clenched jaw, Minerva's soft lilt echoing between them as though having been yelled from the depths of her lungs as tear filled emerald eyes met brown ones. "I'm dying Hermione and while it is new to you; I have been for some time. I was content to put things in order at Hogwarts and retire; shortly after I would have passed from complications to pneumonia, the world never having been wiser. Life, however, seems to have other plans."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Only my children, Helena, Harold, Rory, Filius and Poppy knew; Hermione until I spoke with Arthur and Alayaah. Helena just spoke with Jordan this past week. And while you have become a very dear friend; it is not something I wish to discuss."

"Johannes knew you were dying."

"He was still married to Esmerele when I was injured."

"That was over thirteen years ago…" She breathed out in response, "What happened to you?"

"I lived when I should have died." Minerva carefully stated.

"Something to do with Hogwarts, and that is why Johannes seeks the Heart."

"Hermione, I must ask that you not push this. The truth needs to die with me."

"It won't die with you, Helena knows."

"She does know a great deal, there are some aspects that even she does not know." Minerva conceded.

"How can you ask me to stand idly by and watch as you willingly place yourself in harms way and will ultimately claim your life?"

"Because, you are not standing idly by but I hope, helping me to stop this storm before it grows any larger and consumes all that you and I both love."

"It'll still claim you." Hermione whispered, not willing to trust her voice lest she betray the depth of her feelings for the woman beside her.

"Yes," Minerva murmured in response with a nod, "it will. But with luck, it shan't…anyone else."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Andre eyed the far younger wizard, "Granger you say?"

Douglass nodded, "Yes."

"And you are sure?"

"Quite. She was the one with Flitwick at McGonogall's Manor."

Andre turned to Aegis, "What do you know of her?"

"Little, other than what I've read in the Prophet; and that is hardly an accurate source." Aegis paused as the glass was about to touch his lips, "Although, from the look of Potter and her ex-husband; I'd wager she was the brains of the trio."

Andre chuckled, "I doubt the other two would see that way."

"You do have a point, Aegis." Johannes finally moved away from the mantle, "Regarding her intellect and deductive reasoning." A sense of dread churned in his stomach as he met Harkiss' black calculating gaze. "Additionally, she has been joining Minerva in her extra-curricula activities."

"It would tract that she'd have befriended Minerva with her intellectual acuity." Aegis inwardly cringed, not liking where the conversation was heading.

"What of her relations?" Johannes glanced to the board depicting hundreds of persons and lines to how they related to Hogwarts and or Minerva.

The room began chorusing known facts regarding Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley.

"Recently divorced from Ronald Weasley."

"The Prophet hasn't printed that she's started seeing anyone since her divorce."

"She doesn't have siblings."

"She did have two children while married."

Johannes' eyes sparked, "Where are the children while she is at Hogwarts?"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva bit back a yawn as the clock chimed eleven, she needed to go to bed. She was exhausted. The day had been long, and the week was shaping up to be even longer, if at all possible. Especially tomorrow.

She loathed to contemplate her meeting with the Governors in the evening. She could only be assured of one thing regarding the meeting, it would go ill. She had every intention of telling them tomorrow that she'd not be returning at the Headmistress next year; in culmination of the events that took place this last week and the growing threat, it would be utterly amazing if the meeting would last less than three hours.

With a weighted sigh, she let the letter from Gawain slip from her fingers; knowing that she could not alter his finding tonight and needing a clear head to discuss what Filius and Hermione had learned in the morning.

"Love, you need to go to bed." Albus murmured as she pushed back her chair.

"I have every intention to, as I can't focus another moment longer despite needing to." A moan slipping from her lips as she stood, her hip and lower back catching.

"Gawain was unable to procure any additional information?" Severus inquired, ascertaining the answer from the purse of her lips. "That bodes ill."

"Quite," Minerva agreed, "especially considering Aegis' warning to Helena."

"He is being over cautious." Albus winced in conjunction with his wife as she fully stood upright. "Johannes will carefully plan his next move, he needs a victory or at least a perceived one to continue to rally those that follow him."

"I concur," Minerva grasped her walking cane, "he does need a 'victory'; and I can't help but wonder what he would consider a victory save for my death."

* * *

Oxxo

* * *

Hermione gave up, "Lumos." She muttered as she flipped back the covers, it seemed despite her overbearing fatigue and utter exhaustion she would not be getting any more sleep this evening. At least for some time.

She stepped into her slippers, grasping her robe off the end of the bed as she moved forward; noting that it was just before twelve.

Merlin could I use the rest, she bemoaned as she traipsed from her bedroom and into the living area. The waning fire spoke of how she _should_ be in bed and sleeping. "So much for that," she wandlessly placed another log on the fire and pulled two folders from the inside of her curio cabinet.

She lit another handful of candles by the coffee table as she sat down, enjoying the faint rose scent mixing with the fire; the roses had begun opening and they were beautiful. Her eyes remained fastened upon the white, almost flawless petals as the embers of the fire burned brighter and flames began sprouting from the newly delivered piece of wood. Shaking her thoughts, Hermione carefully moved the vase to the edge of the table and slid her folders in front of her – opening the cover to see Milky's scrawled script from the translation.

_ 'Morning twilight, a starlit sky, to have you, to hold you, to love you, forever, bound.'_

"This…" She picked up the paper holding it long enough to read it again, "_has_ to mean something." She murmured before setting it to the side, wishing she'd have time to pour over old Gaelic texts and transcripts knowing that she'd stumble upon something. However, she didn't. Not for a few weeks at least. And even then, she was fairly certain something else would intervene; so as much as she knew the scant sixteen words invariably meant something – their translation or deeper meaning would unfortunately have to wait. And she set the paper to the side, for now.

However, she moved several other papers aside until she found the one that had kept her awake.

With great care she extracted the article from her collection; a clipping from fifteen years ago from the Daily Prophet. Minerva McGonagall struck by four stunning spells.

She skimmed across the article, knowing the words almost by route; having read it so many times when it first happened. Disbelieving that her professor at the time could have been struck by so many spells – and by Ministry officials no less. However, knowing the truth behind the encounter did little to ease the same sense of…disbelief. She could still remember the eeiry way her body had floated across the air as the spells struck her one after another; how her skin had glowed red and…she narrowed her eyes recalling the event from all those years ago. _Had she moved after the first one struck her?_

She summoned an updated text upon Magical Maladies edition twenty-two. She flipped to the index, Stunning Spell – page 459-461.

Three seconds later she was skimming the treatment section and turned the page to 461 – eyes finding the category for what she had sought. Stunning Spells - Effects.

'Stunning spells as previously stated renders the victim unable to move, stunning the muscles and nerves across the affected area. On the rare occasion, a witch/wizard struck by a stunning spell in an appendage is able to counter the effect as their entire body is not stunned. Research by Goode c1811, and collaborated by St. Mungos research c1862, was able to correlate the appendage stunned and mild to moderate movement was based solely to a witch/wizard's magical core.

'Long term effects – witch/wizard's who have been struck numerous times with stunning spells are at risk of mild nervous system damage due to the wear upon the synaptic gap between nerve cells. To date, there have been no reported cases.

'Multiple stunning spells – witch/wizard's who have been struck with two stunning spells at once are in serious risk of cardiac and ancillary organ damage. The first spell renders the victim's muscles and nerves unable to move, the subsequent spell penetrates into deeper tissue and effects cardiac and organ function. **It is imperative to seek professional assistance if a person has been struck by two stunning spells simultaneously.** There have been rare cases where a person is stuck by more than two stunning spells simultaneously, immediately take the person to the nearest magical hospital for treatment. Survival rate for three stunning spells is twenty-eight percent and from anecdotal evidence; the persons magical core is the defining factor. To date, there is only one person who has survived being struck by four stunning spells simultaneously; Minerva McGonagall. Immediate after effects – bone splinters from the fall, nerve damage along right hip from broken pelvis while landing. Long term effects – unknown; St. Mungos monitoring. M. McGonagall's magical core rating is classified.

"Classified?" Hermione frowned, why the hell is it classified? She closed the book feeling more confused than before. She had thought that the stunners may have been the cause of Minerva's ill health; however, it seemed exceptionally unlikely. "What would cause your core to be classified?" She muttered as she stood, book dangling from her fingertips as she went to return it to the shelf. "And what happened thirteen years ago?" Her brain wracked the events from her sixth year at Hogwarts as Esmerele died that following June. She slid the book back into the shelf and paused, "Milksy."

At once the house elf appeared, "It is late, Miss Hermione's what can I help you with?"

"Can you retrieve the roles from the Professors lounge from…" Hermione quickly did the math, "1932?"

Milksy paused and then with a nod vanished; only to return ten seconds later with an old book in her grasp. "Is you be needing anything else?"

"A cup of tea would be lovely."

"At once." And upon handing the ledger to Hermione she vanished to the kitchens.

Hermione opened the book and with great care flipped the pages; pausing upon the name and very young picture of Helena Antonia Harrison. _Harrison? Did she not take Harold's last name rather Harold took hers?_

She scanned down the information – and found herself nodding.

Sorting Hat – Ravenclaw

Wand – Birch with Unicorn Hair

Magical Core Rating – 9.7

Academics

Potions – O

Transfiguration – O

Charms – O

Herbology – O

Defense Against the Dark Arts – O

Divination – E

Muggle Studies – O

Care of Magical Creatures – O

History of Magic – O

Arthimancy – O

Runes – O

Familiars – None

Shaking her head, Hermione turned the handful of pages until she arrived at her destination – Minerva Katherine McGonagall and she was staring at an equally young picture of Minerva.

"You'se tea." Milksy stated, "Is that all you'se be needing for some time?"

"Can you also bring the roles from 1939?"

"At once."

Hermione was scanning the information pertaining to Minerva.

Sorting Hat – Gryffindor

Wand – Fir with Dragon Heartstring

Magical Core Rating – 9.7

Academics

Potions – O

Transfiguration – O

Charms – O

Herbology – O

Defense Against the Dark Arts – O

Divination – E

Muggle Studies – O

Care of Magical Creatures – O

History of Magic – O

Arthimancy – O

Runes – O

Familiars – Owl

"Here's." Milksy handed it to Hermione. "If you'se needs anything else, please lets me know."

"I appreciate it, but I shall make do for the evening. Get some rest my friend." Hermione stated as she drew the second book to her, and unlike stopping under the first years; flipped to the seventh years.

She stopped at Helena's name again, surprised to see several changes.

House – Ravenclaw

Wand – Maple with Sphinx Heartstring

Magical Core Rating – 10.7

Academics

Potions – O – Newt Achieved

Transfiguration – O – Newt Achieved

Charms – O – Newt Achieved

Herbology – O – Newt Achieved

Runes – E – Newt Achieved

Arthimancy – O – Newt Achieved

Care of Magical Creatures – O – Newt Achieved

Familiars – Owl

Apprenticeship – Aide to Healer M. Watson second term

Awards – Highest Scholastic marks tied with M. McGonagall; full scholarship to

Marshall's Healers Academy.

With ease, she moved ahead until she reached Minerva's seventh year summary.

House – Gryffindor

Wand – Fir with Dragon Heartstring

Magical Core Rating – 10.7

Academics

Potions – O – Newt Achieved

Transfiguration – O – Newt Achieved

Charms – O – Newt Achieved

Herbology – O – Newt Achieved

Defense Against the Dark Arts – O – Newt Achieved

Runes – O – Newt Achieved

Arthimancy – E – Newt Achieved

Social

Captain Gryffindor Quidditch Team

Familiars – Owl

Awards – Highest Scholastic marks tied with H. Harrison

Apprenticeship – A. Dumbledore barring the war's outcome

Hermione closed the book, 10.7. From everything she knew regarding a person's magical core; it was traditionally set by the time the person was of age. Minerva and Helena's had been remarkably high; her own personal one was a half point higher. It had changed slightly more after she turned twenty and she couldn't help but wonder what either of their cores were now. Was she…higher than them?

What would cause Minerva's core to become classified? What of Helena's? Was it classified too? And would the incident with Minerva at St. Mungos regarding Harry have diminished her core?

Is that what this was about with Harkiss, the strength of her magical core? If the core became so strong would it in effect make a person immortal? The highest rated core she knew of was Dumbledore's at a 10.85. Riddle's had been a 10.75; and even on a historical level there had only been one over an 11, and that had been Merlin's. The scale went to 12, though there was no one who reached it.

She noticed that there were still several dozen pages left and skipped ahead to see a picture of Headmaster Armando Dippet with an equivalent biography on him.

"Meaning there would be one on Minerva once she started here." Hermione flipped the page to see Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Her gaze immediately dropped to the Magical Core level – 10.85

With a snap, the book closed and she was striding through her quarters and out her door. Vaguely she heard Godric's voice following her as her robe fluttered behind her as she quickly made her way to the Professor's library and internal Hogwarts records. As expected, the room was vacant upon her arrival; though a fire had been freshly lit and she marveled at the elves knowledge regarding the comings and goings of the castle.

Her eyes instantly scanned across the scantly lit room, finding the wall that held over a thousand bindings and the students names from each class who had ever attended Hogwarts. She slid the binder back into the correct slot and dropped down to the next shelf and withdrew the record for 1956. She flipped to the back and found the record she had been looking for; Minerva Katherine McGonagall.

It gave her accomplishments to date; stated what her wand was, which hadn't changed along with what she taught and other pertinent information to Hogwarts – and the one thing she had been searching for – her magical core levels. It had increased to 10.75.

She was equivalent to Minerva…she thought as she slid the book back and gazed upon the sheer volume of records from that moment to now; and all the students whom she had taught. Shaking her head at her foolish thoughts; she walked over to last year's and pulled it out. Ten seconds later, she was staring at Minerva's picture – one that did not contain a pearly white streak across her ebony mane. Her eyes fell to Magical Core and stared…at the number that for a moment stated 10.75, another moment it was 10.5, and then it jumped to 11.8, and then to 9.8…

"What the hell…" she muttered as she stared at the number for another minute and saw another twenty figures scroll across the page until it finally settled upon 10.75.

She reached over and randomly pulled another binder from the shelf, absently noting that it was dated 1994. She found Minerva's page and watched as the numbers jumped forward and backward until once again leveling off on 10.75.

Flipping backwards, she paused upon Filius Flitwick's and noted that his core stated 10.45. There was no incongruity, no scrambling of numbers; just his core reading.

She closed the book, more confused now than before. Why does everything have to be so damn difficult if it pertains to her?

And was the lack of a stabile magical core why hers had become classified? And why was her core not stable? It obviously had been unstable or seeming unstable or perhaps unreadable would be a more apt description since prior to the incident with the stunners and Umbridge. If the incident with Harry had occurred decades ago, she could have seen that as something to cause her core to be unreadable; but she had combed through the Prophet several times searching for Minerva's marriage, children and sundry of other information and she had not read anything that Minerva had done on that magnitude. Unless it was something…not published.

_Her injury,_ Hermione immediately thought but corrected herself as she was injured some time before her daughter died in 97; and the record she had just read was from 94.

"What the hell else do you possibly have left to hide?" Hermione muttered aloud as she turned to leave. Her mind upon the riddle that encompassed the woman who despite her growing knowledge remained an enigma.

Her feet traveled the well worn steps, her mind rummaging through what would cause a person's magical core to not read accurately; and if that had anything to do with why she had been able to live when she had been struck by four stunners and survive. Which, drove more to the heart of matters, how she had had so many things happen and survive; and now, be upon the brink of death with seeming no hope for life.

From the look they shared this morning, it was apparent that Minerva believed what Helena had shared – resoundingly so. And it was that that propelled Hermione to dig deeper; because there had to be a way for her to live.

_There just had to,_ she thought as she nodded to Godric and stepped back into her rooms; feeling as exhausted as when she had tried laying down but also equally motivated to find a solution for the woman who was capturing her heart.

Her eyes fell upon the bouquet of white roses still being illuminated by the steady flames of the fire as she moved back to the coffee table.

Because she couldn't and wouldn't foresee the alternative, after all, she lived in a world that contained magic.

And that made anything possible.

* * *

Oxox

_a/n: As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	82. Chapter 79 January 5th, 2010

**Chapter 79 ~ January 5****th****, 2010 (Tuesday)**

"And _you_ are telling me that Renoir didn't talk?" Minerva snapped. "Especially after attacking _your _wife."

Harold ground his teeth together in an effort to quell his initial remark, his own fury palatable. "His questioning was moved until this morning, as you are accurate Minerva, _I_ do have a very vested interest in this. But based on what we know so far, I'm doubtful. Mildred killed herself before she could be questioned yesterday, and Gawain was only able to ascertain the obvious from Brice. Minerva," he reached out, "I know it has been a trying week, but it has for me as well. We are doing everything we can."

Minerva nodded, "I know Harold," her voice holding a note of resignation, "but I'm just concerned we're missing something and I fear what that'll mean. We are holding on by a thread as it is."

"I know." Harold replied sipping his coffee, "Did Helena brief you regarding the mess with the Goblins?"

"She did via Dilys; a plausible contagion that nullifies the ability of a Goblin to detect magic. Chrix has to be beside herself."

"As is Helena." His voice dropped, despite the fact there were no others in the room. "They are barely keeping it contained, and Helena stated this morning before leaving that it was an unnatural virus that has the ability to cross contaminate."

"Dear heavens." Minerva breathed out, "To what degree?"

"Helena was running tests with Chrix this morning."

"Does she think it tracts back to Johannes?"

"He doesn't have the aptitude to develop something like this, but that doesn't mean he hasn't found someone who can. The question is who and whether there is an antidote."

"And also whether it can be contained and prevented from further contamination with the Goblin community and potentially not only our own but the rest of the magical world." She sighed while running a hand along her temple and hair, "Has she spoken with Arthur yet?"

"Not until she has confirmation as technically, she is merely consulting with Chrix."

"That sounds suspiciously like you or I."

"Undoubtedly, as who do you think she learned it from."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Minerva rotated her cup along the saucer as she brought up the central reason why she had stopped by to see Harold before he left this morning. "Is Helena still under a protective detail through Gawain's department?"

Blue eyes instantly snapped to hers, "She is, as am I. And truth be told, you should be too."

"I should be, but I'd rather have the resources placed where…" her voice momentarily caught but she continued on, "they'll matter. What are you doing regarding Jordan, Matthew and their children?"

"I've asked two people from my division to…assist shall we say." Harold leaned closer, "Along with Tessa and Percival's families respectively."

"Can you ask Gawain to spare two more persons to ensure the Filius and Pomona's daughter is safe?"

"Done. He's also moved a rotating patrol around the Burrow for Molly and Arthur."

"That leaves Harry…"

"Part of Gawain's internal patrol; automatically encompasses Harry along with Ron."

"Can it be widened to include George, or at least, while he's near his shop?"

A roguish glint sparked in Harold's eye. "Merlin, what our children wouldn't pay to know who their uncle was seeing."

"George has been a remarkably soothing balm despite what has been going on."

"He has." Harold agreed, "And if Gawain can't spare anyone, I'll break someone free. Besides, it wouldn't be a bad idea to see if Rory would concede…"

"His answer will undoubtedly mirror your own."

"I have a protective detail…"

"Assigned to you." Minerva interrupted, "Yes, I know. However, I also know that that detail is a paper trail as you've allocated those persons elsewhere." She subtly shook her head, "Don't, Harold. We are both too old and too tired to fence, especially today."

"It enables me to ensure there are another two people helping to watch Helena."

Minerva laid her hand across his forearm and gave a faint smile, "I know. Just watch your back, love."

"The same goes for you, dear." He placed his hand atop hers. "No need to rush anything."

"Not until I have an opportunity to finish what Johannes started." Minerva's quiet words were uttered with a steely conviction.

They shared a long look before he squeezed her hand and then returned to finishing his coffee as he continued on with their previous topic. "Do you at least want to ask Rory?"

She paused only momentarily before answering, "No. You know as well as I that it would be an exercise in futility."

"What about a detail stationed outside of Hogwarts to assist you, Hermione, Filius, Pomona, Poppy, Neville…?"

"It's not inside Hogwarts that concerns me." Minerva quickly relayed the actions that she, Filius and Hermione took along with their results after regarding the occupants within Hogwarts.

"Then is there any one else along the inner circle?"

Minerva paused as she went through the various persons and relations, eyes suddenly widening as she realized who needed protection and were unable to provide any for themselves. "Hermione's parents."

Harold's brow furloughed, "Aren't they muggle?"

Minerva nodded as she tried recalling the names of the younger woman's parents and felt a distant memory surface, "Jean and…Carl Granger." Minerva knew from what Hermione did during Voldemort's reign of terror that the Grangers' would not be willing to go into hiding. "We'll need to assign multiple details to the area."

"Don't her children stay there some weeks too?"

His question instantly brought the images of the sprightly lad and beautiful young lass to her mind and a tender smile upon her face, "On the off weeks from Arthur and Molly." Minerva loathed to have the conversation she knew she'd need to have with Hermione, "I'll speak with Hermione this evening after the Governor's meeting."

"Perhaps you could bring them inside Hogwarts."

"While an option, I'd prefer to place them into Ministry protective custody. Although after what happened during the last war, I doubt either will be an option." Minerva held up her hand to stave off Harold's questions. "I'll speak with Hermione. How soon can you get a detail over there?"

"I'll move people around," he sighed, "no later than this time tomorrow."

"Harold, it can't wait that long. They are muggles and Rose and Hugo are with them…"

"Where would you suggest I pull from? Percival, Tessa, Jordan, Helena?"

Harold watched as Minerva opened her mouth and seemed about to utter something but altered the words at the last moment into a very clipped, "Fine," Minerva pushed her chair back, "just get someone there as soon as humanly possible."

He had known that Hermione was becoming close to Minerva, as were her children, but it seemed that he had underestimated how close they were becoming. And without thought, he reached forward and caught her hand within his and held it until slowly her eyes lifted to his. "Do you want me to pull someone from the other four until I can get coverage arranged? They are all witches and wizards while her parents are not."

Minerva met his penetrating gaze with a wall of feigned indifference. Of course she _wanted_ him to pull someone, but the question then became from who. Her children? His? Helena? And she sat, unmoving and unable to say anything lest she say too much.

The seconds ticked by as blue eyes scanned hers and felt his heart skip as she lowered her head in what could only be construed as defeat. "Minerva…?"

With aching slowness, she raised her eyes back up to his.

And his world stopped.

Vaguely he could feel his bond pulse, feel his worry spread across it as his stomach plunged in a way that mirrored the other night.

"Love…"

She closed her eyes as another tear slid down her cheek, "I can't do this anymore Harold."

"We'll get through whatever…"

She squeezed his hand and with her jaw clenched forced her eyes open, "Don't let anything happen to her children."

No more words were shared as he slowly nodded, an unspoken agreement reached.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Filius moaned as he read the note he had been copied on.

"What dear?" Pomona asked glancing up to her husband.

"Minerva moved the Governors meeting to next week."

"Can she…do that?"

"I…" he shook his head, "at this point I don't think it matters." Floating the note to his wife and feeling the weight of the being the Deputy even more.

She took the fluttering parchment, a hint of hesitation momentarily stopping her from moving forward and taking the proffered piece of paper.

_Board of Governors,_

_ It is with great regret that I am not able to tell you in person at this time; and that I must ask for an extension until mid-next week to discuss the following but due to recent events and ensuring Hogwarts safety along with my own family's I will not be in attendance this afternoon_

_ Effective at the end of this term year, I am retiring._

_ Minerva K. McGonagall_

_ Headmistress of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Oh dear." Pomona murmured as she lifted her eyes upwards after re-reading it, again.

"My thoughts exactly." Filius softly replied, still astounded by the way Minerva had revealed that she'd be retiring.

"What…" Pomona's eyes narrowed, "did she mean by protecting her family? I thought she had already asked the Minister to deploy a pair of Aurors for when her children or their families left their homes."

"She did." Filius whispered as he tried to extract himself from his shock.

"Then what is she referring too?"

"I don't know."

"Well, she wouldn't put it in the letter if it wasn't relevant. Has something else happened?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Tired eyes met his wife's, "She did speak with Harold this morning, perhaps they learned something new from the interrogations."

"Enough to warrant her to move the meeting despite tendering her resignation?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione heard the door open as she finished wiping the blackboard expecting to see one of her fourth year Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws and was surprised to see Minerva. Hermione felt a smile instantly pull upon her features, "How are you feeling this morning?"

Minerva squelched her nerves at the conversation before her, "I need to speak with you regarding your parents."

"Are they alright?" Every nerve ending was on fire as she met Minerva's gaze.

"They are fine," Minerva quickly assured the younger woman, "however, I have a concern as to their future safety." She found the whole of her resolve as she continued on, "As well as Rose and Hugo's when they are with them."

Hermione felt the air rush from her lungs, "Minerva, what is going on?"

"From our conversations with the staff and the visitors in the North Wing it is apparent that Johannes will not be able to attack Hogwarts without some additional planning, however, that doesn't mean he will not go after those who are close to me or their relatives. I've spoken with Arthur along with Gawain and Harold and have included your parents under a protective detail, but…"

"It'd be easier if they moved some place else until this was over." Hermione finished as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "They won't go for it, after everything with Voldemort…" she stopped her movement and paused as her eyes landed upon Minerva's. "Merlin, Minerva I can't ask them…not after what I did last time. I promised them months ago I wouldn't ask them to move, to change their lives and…"

"I'll ask them." Minerva interjected, "And planned on doing so this evening."

Hermione started to nod and then suddenly stopped. "No, you can't." Her voice rising in pitch, "Not tonight," at seeing Minerva's face she added, "or today for that matter, it's my mother's birthday. I asked Filius Sunday as you weren't…well," Hermione continued rambling on as she motioned to Minerva, "anyway, if he'd watch the Tower this evening as my dad is having a small get together. It's her sixtieth. And, I know we need to speak to them, but…if I'm there this evening can't it wait until tomorrow morning? I'll go ahead and stay tonight, overnight so they are watched and then talk…" Her eyes flashed as her brain just processed what she had stated, without asking. "Would that be alright regarding tonight?"

"What time did you plan on leaving?"

"Five." Hermione stated as the door to her class opened and young Miss Sanders entered, eyes fixed upon her professor and the Headmistress.

"I appreciate the information Professor," Minerva glanced to the fourth year Ravenclaw student, Elizabeth Sanders. "Miss Sanders." She tipped her head and began heading towards the door but stopped at the framework and with a nod to them both bid them good day.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione strode between the desks, thoughts elsewhere despite her revolving gaze and continuous feedback to the students. Idly, she turned and walked up the next row, eyes spotting the tufts of fir lacing Mr. Weir's spine along the comb. With a soft voice, she undid his transfiguration. "Less flourish in the wrist and more enunciation on the i."

"Yes, Professor." She vaguely heard his reply, already moving ahead and peering at the next student's work.

It seemed like yesterday that she herself had been sitting in these very chairs and listening to then Professor McGonagall. She recalled this particular lesson with unusual clarity, Ron had had a problem transfiguring his mouse – not that that had been unusual, however, he could not get the legs to morph into the comb and it had scampered off his desk and spooked her own mouse before she had transfigured it. Her spell had been errant, causing her desk to morph and before another thought crossed her mind, a spell had shot from the far side of the room, from her Professor, and morphed it back.

She had glanced up at once, eyes probably as wide as saucers that not only she had missed her target but that her professor; who was across the room and working with another student had known that she had had difficulties and corrected any potential hazardous situation. She had stayed after class that day, to speak with formidable woman; and again state her apologies for her lack of conducting the spell as intended.

However, the words upon her lips were never uttered.

_"Miss Granger, while I am sure you feel as though you did not complete the spell to my satisfaction because of the earlier mishap I assure you that is not the case. You have a natural aptitude for Transfiguration, one I hope you continue to expand upon. Now, I believe you are due in Professor Trewleny's class; and I'd hate for the grim to have become fixed upon you due to your tardiness."_

Hermione blinked back the smile about to curl the corner of her lips at Minerva's quip regarding Divination. She should have known then that Minerva didn't think much of the mystic class.

Minerva.

Her next thought superseded the woman who had somehow become such an integral part of her life, her parents. And Minerva's concern regarding their safety.

If Minerva was concerned, that bode ill.

And what of her children who had been residing every three weeks with them? She could easily make some adjustments and have her children come to Hogwarts, but even that was not the best option. There was a security aspect regarding the fabled institution that had been exposed last week, almost claiming Minerva's life – and her own. She was sure that Ron and his family, namely Molly, would be less than keen on the notion that Rose and Hugo would be living at Hogwarts for three weeks at a time. And the last thing she wished to spur on was a fight between she and Ron regarding the children's welfare and where they should be staying.

He'd never consider Hogwarts. At least, not without a wand pressed into his back, especially after Minerva had confronted him on his lack of interaction with their children and after the attack on Hogwarts itself.

However, despite the attack, Hogwarts remained one of the safest places in England. Between the warding, the Professors who lived there, and the house elves; not counting the 132 persons in the North Wing that few people knew were living there. Fifty-seven of whom were ex-Hogwarts professors.

She could only hope that her parents would consent to move within these hallowed walls. As for her children, she'd sort that out with Ron this week too.

"Marvelous transfiguration, Miss Jameson, five points to Hufflepuff." She said, trying again, to push her personal problems aside until this evening when she could reflect on them and hopefully find a solution that would not antagonize her ex-husband or her parents and was in everyone's best interest; including her children.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva swept down the hallway, cloak mildly dampening her movements, but her gait remained clipped and the speed with which she reached the main stairwell. She quelled the overwhelming feeling of fire ebbing from her hip, fingers tightly gripping the banister as she forced herself to descend the handful of stairs to the first floor. While she needed to take another pain potion, she was trying not to as she had already consumed an additional one past the recommended daily limit.

As much as it hurt her to admit or even fathom, she might have to re-consider the injection she had tried once at Helena's bequest this past summer. The pain had seemed dehabilitating then, and now, it seemed even more so; but she had steadfastly refused to have the daily injection into her joint. The numbness had left her unable to fully push off her leg and the lack of mobility was not a sacrifice she had been willing to make.

However, as she extended her leg out and finished descending the stairs, she was seriously reconsidering it. As she could not continue to ingest the volume of pain relief potions she had been per day, it wasn't the long-term effects that worried her, rather the tolerance her system was building to the potions and the waning relief after taking them. Besides, the ancillary reason for her not to use the injection was almost mute too; she thought morosely, because turning into her animagus would push the thresholds of her magic. It's not that she still couldn't, but the cost – dear Merlin, the cost could be the difference between her being able to cast the final blow to Johannes or not.

The air rushed against her as the door opened, the bitter coldness of the approaching night's air stealing the breath from her lungs. She drew her scarf closer about her neck, eyes narrowing to peer ahead and easily spotting the woman she was trying to catch.

A fleeting thought of apparating ahead sprung to mind as did morphing into her animagus and sprinting forward, however, she settled for the more practical approach. With a soft spell the doors began closing behind her, as she quickly strode off the steps and up the long walkway. She had closed the distance by half before Hermione had reached the gates, and while opening them, she called out to her. "Hermione."

The wind had muted the voice, but Hermione only knew one person with that distinct contralto and Scottish brogue. Confusion laced her features as she turned, "Good evening, Minerva." She finished opening the gate as the stately woman approached, noticing that Minerva had donned her winter cloak, scarf, gloves, hat and she inwardly prayed that her evening was not being supplanted by a mission. "Is everything alright?"

"Quite," Minerva motioned for Hermione to continue outside of Hogwarts, thankful that she was now able to slow; even if only slightly, as they moved forward. "I was hoping I may be able to intrude this evening and join you at your parents."

Hermione opened her mouth to say what she wasn't entirely sure, but she was sure something would come out. "Ahhhh…" However, it wasn't quite what she had hoped. She snapped her fumbling mouth closed and blinked again, feeling oddly giddy at the notion that Minerva _wanted_ to join her, confused as to why, nervous as to what she would say to her parents as to why she was there… "Why?" She finally managed to ask, thankful it wasn't even a two syllable word. But as Minerva quirked her brow at the oddity of lack of question, Hermione's startling intellect finally managed to find the words necessary to elaborate. "Not that I mind, but I'm sure you have a reason."

"I have asked your parents be placed under a protective watch, while it will not guarantee their safety it will enable them an opportunity to escape should their home be attacked. However, I went over the list with Harold this morning, and we were short bodies; and he was watching your parents this morning. He asked one of his detail to relieve him, and they are staying until just after five; when I arrive and Gawain will be able to provide a permanent detail beginning some time between nine and ten." Hermione's heart swelled at what Minerva was stating, "I had planned on stopping by your parents' home under the guise of visiting with your children for a few hours. At the time I spoke with Harold, I did not realize that it was your mother's birthday; and if it shall be a problem, I shall take up a post outside…"

"No," Hermione quickly interjected not willing to let the woman before her freeze to death outside, "that won't be necessary nor wise."

"Your parents and children's safety is…"

Hermione's gloved hand landed upon Minerva's arm, "I meant it was not necessary or wise for you to be outside for hours on end." Brown eyes kindly stared into green ones, "You are more than welcome to accompany me, Minerva. I only ask that you do not speak of their danger this evening, I'll speak with them over breakfast in the morning."

"Let me speak with them," Minerva's words were soft, "in the morning."

Hermione met Minerva's warm gaze, "You don't have to, I can…"

"Let me." Minerva whispered reassuringly knowing how much the pending conversation with her parents was weighing upon the young woman's mind.

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "If you are sure…"

Minerva patted Hermione's gloved hand with her own, a twinkle permeating from her eyes, "Now, I believe your mother's birthday is waiting."

Hermione felt a smile curl upon her lips, "It is and I'm sure the children will be elated to see you."

"After the last several days, it will do me good to see them as well."

"Ready?"

Minerva gave a slight nod, "Yes." She felt Hermione's fingers tighten along her forearm and then a swell of magic pulse against her skin as the snow rolling landscape of Hogwarts was morphed into the quiet neighborhood of the Granger's residence.

It had been nineteen years, barely a blink ago, since she had last been here – delivering Hermione's Hogwarts acceptance letter. She felt Hermione withdraw her arm, and Minerva stilled her thoughts; not willing nor wanting to contemplate how vast their age difference was this evening. As it mattered not, she was her friend _nothing_ more.

"There will be a few of my parents' friends here, along with some extended family." Hermione relayed as they walked to the house, noting that Minerva sent a patronus charm to the west of the house and almost instantly a slight flash could be seen. She had informed the detail of their arrival and they had departed in turn. "I'm sure there will be some questions as to why you have joined me."

"I'll manage." Minerva answered.

"And," Hermione drew to a stop in front of the door, "everyone, save for my parents, believe I am teaching at a Boarding school in Essex."

"What do you teach?"

"Huh?" Hermione paused with her hand upon the door knob. "Ohh, arithmetic." Her brow furrowed, "What are you going to say you do?"

"Magic." Minerva quipped as the door on the other side of Hermione opened, causing her to almost lose her balance as she stumbled into her parents' home and her father steadied her.

"Thought I heard someone." Carl chuckled at his daughter, wrapping his warm around her. "And you," he paused seeing the slightly older woman in the doorway. "Are?"

"Minerva," she extended her hand, "we've met prior."

Carl let his daughter go and took the proffered hand, "A friend of Hermione's?"

"She is." Hermione answered before Minerva could. "A very good one. Now, where's mom?"

Carl directed his daughter towards the living room and turned to the mysterious woman who had arrived with her. "We've met?"

"I spoke with you and Jean regarding your daughter's future," Minerva obliquely replied as she entered the house.

"The Deputy Headmistress."

"Now Headmistress." Minerva quietly interjected.

"Hermione works for you." Carl stated in understanding.

"And has become a good friend."

A woman with graying hair along her temples and peppered throughout the rest of her hair walked forward, "Mary Stilx."

"Minerva McGonagall." Minerva stated as they shook hands.

"Do you work with my niece?" She asked as Minerva began unfastening her cloak.

"I do." Minerva relayed as she shed her cloak and hung it upon the coat rack. "I used to teach arithmetic."

"Ohh, isn't that what Hermione teaches?"

"She replaced me." Minerva stated, "That is a lovely blouse."

"Thank you," Mary shined, "I bought this while in London last week at a small boutique next to Spires."

"And the workmanship that went into your blouse is phenomenal."

Minerva's reply was waylaid as Hugo bounded around the corner, blue rabbit bouncing on along the floor, smile from ear to ear; hair askew and arms wide. "Aunt Merva!"

"My bonnie lad." She smiled as she easily lifted him into her arms. "Have you been enjoying your stay?"

He slobbered a kiss on her check and nodded, "Yup."

Hermione, Jean and several others peeked into the room; Hermione's eyes riveted upon the woman holding her son and not upon Hugo's jubilance. She had expected Minerva to be wearing her standard emerald and black robes, not wearing what most wizards called muggle clothing. She was wearing a long flowing embroidered green wool blouse, the edges appearing to be made of silk and Hermione wondered if the interior was lined with it; along with black wool pants and her standard clipped black boots. If Hermione didn't know better, she'd have thought Minerva was a successful business woman in her late forties or early fifties.

Rose came tearing around the corner a moment later, "Aunt Minerva!" A smile as wide as the Thames. "You cames too!"

Jean's gaze flickered to her daughter and back to the heart-warming scene of the Headmistress of Hogwarts doting on her grandchildren. She looked to be younger than her by well over a decade. Hermione had said that witches and wizards age differently, and while over a dozen years had passed since she had last laid eyes upon the woman; she looked to have barely aged a year, perhaps two. The most notable difference was the streak of white permeating her once black mane of hair, adding a very distinguished look to the plait down her back. She gently reached out, pulling her daughter's gaze away from the scene before them, "The children are quite taken with her."

With a smile still on her face, Hermione nodded. "They are." Despite herself, her eyes flickered back to the children and Minerva before coming to rest upon her mother again. "As is she with them." Hermione noticed a flash within her mom's eyes, and her brow creased in return. "What?"

"Nothing," Jean patted her daughter's arm and was saved as Minerva made her way past the other guests to her with Hugo still ensconced within her arms and Rose jabbering away beside her.

"Jean," A kindness lacing Minerva's eyes, "I hope you will forgive my presumptiveness in coming this evening, I had hoped to see young Miss Rose and Master Hugo as I was unable to see them the weekend prior despite having committed to them I would be able."

Rose tugged on her pant leg, "Mum saids you was not feeling well."

Jean had received the brief letter from her daughter and the subsequent one with horrifying details of how an entire corridor had fallen atop of the woman before her. She glanced to Rose and nodded, "Yes," her brown eyes met the taller emerald ones. "We had heard that you had fallen ill, and I am glad to hear you are feeling better. As for coming this evening," She watched as her grandson hugged Minerva tighter and both looked at her with pleading eyes, "we are happy you were able to attend as well."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Mary turned to Hermione, laughter still ringing in her voice. "Jean tells me that since your divorce with Ron; you have been getting some rather unique proposals by mail and even by a few of your students."

Hermione felt her cheeks warm, "I have received a few inquires."

"Any worth their salt?" Stella, Carl's sister, questioned.

"Between my obligations at school and the children; I haven't had much time to think about dating."

"Well, do try and get someone a little more interesting than the last fella; how could he mistake Beckman for a rugby player?" Marcus, Stella's husband, commented.

"I never did understand what you saw in him dear," Mary remarked, "he wasn't the intellectual you were."

"You claimed love blinded you, regarding Harry." Carl interjected to his sister.

"How was I to know the reason he was so good in bed was because of his extraneous activities?" Mary turned to her niece, "Was that the reason for your divorce dear, your parents have been rather moot on the topic."

"And you wonder why?" Carl quipped before sipping his wine.

Jean was about to interject, but her daughter did despite her growing pink face. "Our bedroom activities were not the cause of our divorce, rather his lack of willingness to be an integral part of our children's lives and by wanting me to become someone I wouldn't be happy being."

Stella eyed her niece, "Being married does mean that at times sacrifices have to be made."

Hardened brown eyes snapped to her aunt, "Too true, but I was the only one making sacrifices."

"Sometimes a woman…"

"How long have you been married?" Minerva questioned Stella.

Stella turned to the mysterious woman to her left, "Thirty-seven years." Her eyes flickered to Minerva's hand and noticed the petite band resting upon her ring finger. "And you?" She challenged, "A decade perhaps going on two? You seem the type to have married slightly later in life."

Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but what was she to say? That Minerva had been married for over forty years and widowed for thirteen? That would cause questions that…the would not go over well, considering the International Law for Secrecy – even though she was Minerva McGonagall, she was still bound by the same code.

"Forty-one years," Minerva calmly answered.

Over half the room's mouth fell open at the direct response in conjunction with the overwhelmingly large amount of time. "You don't look _that _old!" Mary exclaimed, "Were you married when you were five?"

Minerva chuckled, "I wasn't quite that young, but comparatively, I married rather young." Mirth lining her voice, "And despite my appearance am slightly older than you believe."

"Are you still married?" Mary asked intrigued.

Jean watched as a shadow passed over her daughter's face, "I'm a widow."

"Ohh, I'm sorry." Sincerity lacing her words, "It must have been recent."

"At times it still feels as though it was yesterday."

"And, have you found someone else?"

"Much like Hermione, I have had little time since my husband's passing to consider affairs of the heart."

"I'm sure the children keep you quite busy."

"After a fashion." Minerva replied.

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Oxox

* * *

Jean waited a moment until her sister-in-law departed the kitchen, leaving her finally alone with the woman she wished to speak with.

"For a witch, you are rather adept with the non-wizarding world."

Minerva turned to meet the kind gaze of Jean Granger as she finished hand drying one of the wine glasses. "My family owned a small distillery which enabled a greater understanding of the muggle world as did my time as a spy when I was much younger."

Jean leaned her back against the counter, "Why are you really here?" At Minerva's questioning look, she shook her head. "No matter what my daughter has told you, I assure you, both Carl and I are more aware than she believes. Something else has happened, hasn't it?"

Minerva's respect for Hermione's mother increased, "Yes. I was going to come back tomorrow morning to ask if you and Carl would be willing to relocate to Hogwarts."

"Do you believe that the man, Harkiss I believe Hermione said his name was, would go after family?"

"He will use any means he can to gain what he seeks."

"I'll speak with Carl this evening, and send word by your owl post in the morning." Jean stated.

"Thank you." Minerva folded the towel and set it upon the stove.

"What is the nature of your relationship with my daughter?"

The air in the kitchen suddenly seemed stifling as Minerva met Jean's penetrating gaze.

"And her children?"

Decades of being the Deputy and subsequent Headmistress enabled her face to remain stoic. "She has become a close friend and her children remind me of my two youngest."

"While undoubtedly true, I believe I was looking for a slightly more candid answer."

"I'm afraid, I do not understand." Minerva peered back at Jean.

Seconds ticked by and Jean was about to counter that she did believe Minerva knew precisely what she was referring to when the door opened and Hermione strode through. "Mom, we were going to have the…cake..." She glanced from Jean to Minerva and back. "Everything alright?"

"We'll be right out," Minerva carefully answered.

"Ahhh, okay." Hermione cast one more glance at them both ascertaining that she wouldn't be getting any additional clues from either, departed.

Jean waited until the door had stopped moving before returning her gaze back to Minerva, "Then perhaps a more direct question is needed."

"Doubtful," Minerva succinctly replied.

"Minerva…"

"I'm dying Jean." Minerva met suddenly aghast brown eyes, "So whatever your perception or belief; know that I do greatly care for both your daughter and her children and while I am able I will assist in protecting them."

Jean breathed deeply before asking, "Does Hermione…know?" Almost afraid to hear the answer, as she could see that her daughter was beginning to care for the elder witch as far more than a friend should. And her grandchildren would be devastated if something happened to their _'Aunt'_.

"That I am dying, yes."

"But she doesn't know how long until you do?"

"She believes it to be longer than it is."

"Why the deception?"

"I have unfinished business that needs to be tended to before the truth becomes readily available, otherwise, I shan't be able to complete it."

"Harkiss."

"Yes."

Jean pieced the information from her previous conversations with her daughter together, "You mean to stop him."

"I do, before he has the opportunity to hurt anyone else."

Jean could read the despair lacing emerald eyes and the hint of resignation, "Even though you know it'll cost your life."

"My life is already forfeit, whereas your daughter's, my children and dearest friends are not."

Jean took a step closer, "If you had more time and weren't dying, would you...I mean, Minerva it's obvious that you care."

A faint smile touched the corner of Minerva's lips, "That I do." She moved towards the door, "Though I doubt I shall keep you from your guests any longer."

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Oxox

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_A/N: Thank you for all your support and hope you enjoyed!_


	83. Chapter 80 January 8th, 2010

**Chapter 80 ~ January 8****th****, 2010 (Friday)**

Helena eased back into the chair, relishing the sanctity of her friend's home. And knowing that unless the world was coming down around them, she would not be bothered this evening.

It had been an exceedingly long week, which had followed an excruciating one; and she loathed to think of what the next one would bring. Instead, she was content to let everything else go by for moment and bask in Minerva's presence while they shared a nip of malt whisky.

Minerva finished pulling the pins from her hair, letting it fall loosely about her shoulders and back before reaching for her own glass. "To a long week."

"But a safe one." Helena raised her glass and both women took a hearty sip.

"How is Chrix coping?" Minerva asked, knowing that while they had stayed the disease, Helena was still assisting Chrix on several fronts.

"She's been going since Sunday, and on the verge of collapse. Thankfully, the contagion has slowed and she has been able to administer the antidote to those infected within the last seventy-two hours."

"Has the root of the disease been ascertained?"

Helena took another sip, "Definitely man made," she leaned forward resting her glass on the table between them, "however, that is next weeks problem." She unfastened the top of her robe, loosening the collar, "I am going to take a few days off and try to rest." Blue eyes fastened upon green, "As should you."

"I thought of spending tomorrow with Percival and Audrey; and dinner with Tessa and Malcolm."

"I'm sure they'd both love to see you." Helena watched as Minerva undid her broach at her collar, "And how are you feeling since last weekend? You still look rather piqued."

"And I still feel as though a corridor fell atop me."

Helena pursed her lips at Minerva's dry wit. "Then you are feeling well I take it." She retorted.

"Impeccably."

Helena chuckled, "Good."

"And you? Your head has stopped feeling as though it had temporarily become a scrambled egg?"

"As long as I don't think."

"That was never a problem before, so you must cured as well."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Thanks again, but you don't have to come." Hermione stated to Ginny as they strode from the Potter's home.

"I haven't seen my niece or nephew since Christmas, of course I want to go." Ginny reset the property's wards as they closed the small iron-gate along the cross walk. "Besides, with the attack on dad yesterday, it can't hurt to be safe."

"How are the two aurors?"

"Darien didn't make it, Edgar is stable but still deemed listed as under serious condition."

"Have they any new leads?"

"No. But the entire Ministry has banded together, Harry said since he's been with the Ministry he hasn't seen this type of resource sharing."

"Arthur was lucky."

Ginny nodded, "He really was. And I have to wonder if Harold had planned to have a group of the unspeakable division watching him too or if they were _just in the area_ like he said."

"My guess would be on the former." Hermione felt the anti-apparation wards lift. "He and Minerva sat down at the beginning of the week to place various members of her family, friends and Order members under a protective detail split between Gawain and

Harold's departments. I wouldn't doubt if she included Molly and Arthur."

"What about Harry and I or Ron or you?"

"She didn't divulge who," She gripped Ginny's arm, "ready?"

Ginny gave a slight nod and another blink they were standing a half street away from the Granger household. "What about your parents?"

At this, Hermione nodded. "There has been a detail here since Tuesday."

"Didn't your mom, dad and the kids return from a couple day trip to…"

"Balmoral." Hermione finished, "Yes. They had it planned for a month. It's their way of showing the children about the muggle monarchy."

"Then they saw Parliament?"

"Next visit, barring it can be arranged with a protective detail."

"Then your mom and dad consented to move?"

"Tomorrow," Hermione and she turned up the driveway, "they wanted to wait until they returned this evening, I picked up the kids and they'll pack."

"Where are they moving to?"

"Originally it was going to be Hogwarts, but Minerva offered for them to stay in a small house off the isle of Crete. She said it is warded and is unplottable; so it would be safe for not only them but the children."

"Do you ever wonder how many homes Minerva _does_ actually have?"

Hermione shook her head and was about to say no when she noticed that the sentry on the west side overlooking the property wasn't there. At once she reached for her wand. "Not really…" Hermione's voice trailing off as she glanced to the left.

"Do you think she has one in the Americas?"

Hermione nudged Ginny as she withdrew her wand and Ginny immediately reached for her own.

"No, probably another one in Europe." Hermione motioned to the door.

Ginny reached for the handle, eyes locking onto her friend's. "Be careful." She breathed and thrust it open.

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xoxo

* * *

Harry jogged ahead to catch the distinct gait and peppering haired man, "Harold."

The elder wizard turned around to see none other than Harry Potter darting between people to catch him, "Easy Harry."

A lopsided grin pulled upon his face, "Do you have a minute?"

"Why don't you walk me out? I'm to be meeting my wife shortly for dinner."

"Then she is doing well?" Harry asked while falling into step beside him.

"She doesn't have time for anything else," Harold replied and at seeing the honest concern emanating from Harry's eyes he added. "Though she is rather tired."

"I don't know who is worse, Helena or McGonagall from the sound of it."

"They are both too stubborn for their own good." Harold agreed, "Now what can I help you with?"

"After yesterday, Gawain…" He ran a hand through his hair, "Look, you and I both know that those Unspeakables didn't just happen upon the area. How many more people do you have under protective detail?"

In a hand stroke, their conversation became muffled as Harold gripped Harry's arm and steered him into an ancillary room. "Careful Harry, these walls have ears."

"Then you do have more than Arthur under protection."

"Not only I, but Gawain as well." Blue eyes burned into olive ones, "Including you and your wife."

"Is it on the whole Order?"

"No."

"What about Hermione's parents?"

"Minerva already had one assigned to them." Harold stated in appreciation to how quickly Harry's mind skimmed across the list of potential persons requiring protection.

"It's just with Hermione helping Minerva, eventually Harkiss might go after her loved ones. And after everything with Voldemort, I just…she did so much for me, for everyone and almost lost her family then."

"Minerva asked me to assist her in verifying the wards at her property in Crete, the Grangers are moving there tomorrow after the children leave."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, "I'll help transport them in the morning."

Harold's eyes twinkled, "You are a good friend, Harry."

"She is to me too."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena chuckled as Minerva withdrew from her outer layer of robes, leaving her garbed in her sleeveless sage under robe, "I still don't see why you wear such intricate robes. They appear stifling."

Minerva laid the heavier material onto the arm of her chesterfield before walking over and grabbing the decanter. "And how many layers are your robes?"

"Three." Helena eyed the ones that had been draped over the arm, "One less layer."

Minerva chuckled at the look of envy passing across Helena's face, "It's just going to be you, Harold and I. Take your outer layer off."

A look of chagrin passed across Helena's face, "I didn't wear an inner layer."

Minerva's brow quirked, "Were you and Harold too busy this morning?"

Helena's mirth wavered, "I'm afraid that isn't it. As I haven't felt well enough," she met Minerva's suddenly worried eyes, "nor have I felt well enough to don a full set of clothes." Her eyes flickered to Minerva's robes and back, "Just as you've started wearing standard robes and cloaks without your magical seams."

"I have," Minerva agreed, and at Helena's glance. "But I'm sure I have something in my wardrobe that would suffice for you for the evening and be a tad more comfortable and cooler too."

"You could always extinguish a fire."

"Or we could stop before we have anymore whisky."

Helena wrapped her arm around Minerva's shoulders, "But we haven't even started and it would be such a shame to leave the bottle full."

Minerva wasted no time and steered them to her wardrobe, pulling the door open. "The robes upon the left are inner ones."

Helena ran a hand down several, "Are these silk?"

"With a mix of cotton."

Helena withdrew one, loving the cut and material. "Do you mind?"

Minerva was about to say that she did indeed, as that was one of favorite ones. It had been a present from Albus just before he passed, the cotton was from Egypt and silk spun from China; but it had magical seams. And after the episode last week, she had begun switching over to her non-magical clothing. "By all means."

"Your clothing is always so deceptive. Appearing simple and yet it is always so intricate and the material divine." Helena stated as she withdrew her robe and set it upon the bed.

Minerva noticed the still large yellow bruise upon her shoulder. "Dear, what happened to your shoulder?"

"Not everyone has the luxury of Hogwarts healing." Helena slipped her arms into the soft material, "It is a residual from the break-in at St. Mungos."

"Do you still have marks on your face?"

"Nothing a glamour won't hide." She eased her legs into the robe, "As if you have any room to talk, when was the last time you left your rooms without a glamour?"

"Far longer than I care to admit to, although, as my magic becomes weaker the depths of the glamours have waned."

"Where is the closure…?" Helena was tapping upon the edges of the seam.

"Here." Minerva stepped forward and gently laid her hand upon Helena's, guiding it to the beginning of the seam and running her fingers along the line; sealing the robes. "And here…" she let her fingers grace the material just beneath Helena's collarbone, "is a pocket that is magically reinforced to protect a pair of glasses."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Ginny and Hermione charged into the foyer to see, no one and nothing out of the ordinary. There were a handful of lights turned on, the television was on droning on about Greece's economic woes, Rose's drawing pad was next to her father's chair and despite the serenity of the scene; every hair along the back of Hermione's neck stood uneasily.

Something wasn't right.

Innately her fingers clenched her wand tighter and she motioned for Ginny to look in the den as she moved deeper into the living room.

"That's far enough." A crisp voice causing both women to stop moving, even breathing as they turned to where the voice had come from. Their wands followed their gazes, and Hermione's heart stopped.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Andre Aegis was standing in the doorway to the kitchen and just beyond; were several others, one holding each of her children and mother, while two others stood guard, wands out.

"Mom…?" Hermione couldn't believe her voice sounded that normal, only a slight tremble lacing the word.

"The children and I…." Jean felt the knobby part of the stick press deeper into her ribs, stilling her words.

"Shut up muggle!" Her captor hissed.

Rose jerked her arm away from the mean man and sprinted forward to where her mother was, "We are fine and…"

Hermione watched in horror as her daughter's body was petrified as she came through the kitchen door and fell to the floor with a deadening thud.

"Now," Andre turned back to Hermione, "where were we?" A look of triumph glistening in his eyes, "Ah yes, I was going to give you an opportunity to save…" the witches and wizards slowly came through the doorway, dragging her struggling son and mother, as another de-petrified Rose and held her, "all of them, in return for you doing a few minor things for me and Johannes."

Hermione stared at her children and mom, and felt….numb. She wanted to crawl under a rock, put her head in the sand; anything and everything except be where she was and having placed her family in harms way. A part of her wanted to let her knees give out and empty the contents of her stomach; another part was desperately trying to find a solution – any that would enable her children to escape and if luck would have it, her mother and she and Ginny too.

Ginny.

What of her family? Harry? Her nausea grew as she kept her wand aimed at Andre and forced the hideous words from her mouth, mind going a thousand miles a minute as she tried to think of something and stalled. "What minor things?"

"Hermione…" Ginny began but stopped when Douglass yanked Hugo's hair back causing him to yelp.

"Andre, we don't have time for this foolishness." Douglass snapped.

"I've always found a bit of civility, helps." His blue eyes glinting in the light. "Now, as I was saying, we are looking for three magical creatures; perhaps you'd be willing to shed some light as to where Minerva has hidden all of fledgling centaurs or phoenixes or even griffins unless you can access the Heart of Hogwarts itself." His eyes moved past Hermione to land upon the children, "Or perhaps you don't…"

"I can't access the Heart." Hermione truthfully answered, delaying the first part as she continued to problem solve.

"And the magical creatures?"

"Minerva's only shared that with Rory."

"Then you'll just have to help us speak with Minerva." Andre gave Hermione a small shake, "And I wouldn't if I were you. I can see the gears frantically spinning to find a solution that will enable you and your family to escape; and the only way for you to leave here tonight alive is if you help me get Minerva."

"She'll die before helping you."

"Oh," He chuckled, "I have no doubt. However, I'm wondering if she'll be able to condemn your entire family and Potter's wife to death too."

"You leave Aunt Minerva alone!" Rose yelled out breaking free from the man gripping her to storm at Andre.

Hugo followed suite, "You'se not nice, you'se leave Aunt Merva be!"

Andre's laugh grew, "Aunt Minerva…" His tone sounding jubilant, "Ohhh, my day just keeps getting better..."

Hermione heard the percussion from the foyer as one of the wizards blew backwards; blood, skin, marrow and bone splattering the wall and Hermione didn't look at where the sound had originated from or who had done it.

She was to busy focusing on casting a protego charm between Andre and her children as the distinct sound of a shotgun went off again.

Her father had just returned home.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Harold told me of your conversation." Helena gently prodded as they both situated themselves in the living room again.

Minerva had known that she'd have to speak with Helena, especially after the short interlude with Harold. "Regarding Hermione and her family?"

Helena nodded in acknowledgement, before she quietly asked the painful truth. "My dear, what are you going to do? And how are you and Albus faring with this additional stressor upon you both?"

"I…" Minerva could feel the tears looming against the back of her eyes and cleared her throat before starting over again, "We haven't spoken about Hermione since the business of Hogwarts last weekend." Minerva continued on despite Helena's gaping mouth and obvious question resting upon the tip of her tongue. "As it only deepens the growing discord between us, and I just don't have it in me."

"Then you…won't be telling Hermione that you care for her?"

A hint of shock flittered across Minerva's face, "I'll be dead within two months Helena, there is nothing good that can come of it. Except for a lot of confusion, heartache, misunderstanding and little else."

Helena didn't even bother taking a breath as she plunged ahead, "She could be the second person your father mentioned in his writings." At seeing Minerva's eyes widen past the size of galleons and sheer disbelief she quickly moved before her dearest friend finally did find her sharp tongue. "His notes have you living because of a second love past February 25th. I have been trying to recreate them, God knows I've been trying for fifty years, and the closest I've come has been within the last two months. I stumbled on a formula…" Helena began talking faster, hoping to finish all that she had to say; that should have undoubtedly been said years prior – but then again, Minerva had had secrets too. "that Meric used, enabling accurate forward predictions using time as a constant; but it didn't matter what I ran or who was involved – you always die. So does everyone else, our children, Harold and I, Rory, and each time I added one of the younger generation into the mix; it rarely influenced the course of events. If anything, it hastened our deaths and occasionally saved the grandchildren. However, that all changed when I added Hermione into the mix. Everyone lived, except for you, Percival and Audrey. I went from sheets and sheets of dead people to three; and I must be missing something else because that is where Meric…" Tears were brimming on the edges of blue eyes as she brokenly finished, "…you live."

To say that Minerva was shocked, was mild. "Arithmancy…" Minerva shook her head at Helena, "I should have known. Numeric puzzles…" She reached for her glass, stopping as the cool glass came to her lips and she pulled it away, "So the summer after Gellert fell when you borrowed my father's Arithmancy texts…"

"I copied them all." Helena divulged the long harbored secret.

"And you've been trying to sort out his musings all this time?"

"It's been a hobby of mine." Helena felt the odd need to defend her actions, "He really was a brilliant Arthimancer. There are passages that delineate events that didn't happen for a decade after his death. And the parts with you and Derrick are uncannily accurate."

"After the fact, they are. His texts are like portents, Helena – they only make sense after an event happens and then you can morph the event to fit into his obscure meaning."

"Portent or no, you can't deny the accuracy in his notes."

"Accuracy does not indicate certainty." Minerva snapped, "Because if it did, Derrick would still be alive." Helena's mouth mildly dropped at Minerva's own revelation, "As I too have studied father's texts and after Derrick's death stopped putting any stock into his writings."

"He was going to die," Helena whispered, "it just happened fourteen months sooner."

"I canna believe you never told me." Minerva muttered taking a sip of her malt, "After all these years."

"What if Meric was right? What if …there is a second love?"

Clear emerald eyes pinned blue ones, "Regardless of your long held belief, Aegis was by far my first love." Her voice sounding oddly detached despite the obvious emotion swirling in her irises. "Albus was my second Helena."

"There are others whom you were with prior to marrying Albus that I would say you had a far greater emotional connection with."

"I was with his child when I found out my parents had been killed." Minerva said in a voice utterly devoid of emotion, "I miscarried the day after their funeral." Sympathy emanated from blue depths, "I felt so guilty for continuing to see him, believing that somehow or way he may have been involved; even though I knew he wasn't. But the differences between our families were too vast, and we couldn't overcome it. And Merlin, Helena we tried. But the mistrust was too deep…and it was killing me, him. He never knew I was with his child, and I didn't know how to tell him that I miscarried. I didn't know how to make our relationship work in the wake of everything that lay between us. Add into the fact of Gibbs death, you were in hospital – paralyzed and with little hope of recovery; and God, the McGonagall clan…" She rolled her eyes despite the tears, "And after I lost the child, I couldn't cope with anymore. That's why I left for Germany as soon as Derrick returned to Hogwarts. So, no – Helena. You ask why Aegis is willing to do what he is, it is because of our love; no different than I couldn't ask for the Dementor's kiss when he was sentenced." Her Gaelic ancestry becoming exceptionally prevalent as she finished, "As for Hermione…dear Merlin, forgive me and all that I am; as I am falling in love with the incredible woman, Helena. It is killing me, because I _do_ still love my husband. But when death finally does smile upon me, I will chose it; enabling me to once again be with the man I have spent the last fifty years with and plan on spending then next thousand too. And as for Hermione…" she leaned forward, "my love will remain unknown and unrequited because that's all that can be."

"What if it could be more?" Helena hated herself for asking, but also knowing that they'd never touch upon this again. It was too raw, charged and close to the heart – which she was witnessing break a little more each day from the stress of the situation.

"I'm dying." Minerva said without preamble. "And bound to Albus. Do you know what that will do to him if I….?" She shook her head not finishing the thought aloud, but jumped to the next one. "To me?"

"Perhaps there is a way to transfer the bond. We are in completely uncharted territory with your situation and…"

"I'm bound." Minerva said with more conviction, "I still feel him just like you feel Harold; just not as intensely as I once did because Hogwarts is stifling it to keep me alive."

"Can either of you dissolve…"

Minerva's patience was at an end, "No! And NO!" She snapped, "Let it be for Merlin's sake! I cannot dissolve the bond, neither can Albus – we tried six years ago. It won't dissolve because…"

"You aren't on the same plane." Helena said in realization and felt her shoulders incrementally sink. "Then there is nothing…that can be done?"

Blue and green eyes held each other for a long moment, the soft ticking of the clock from her office the only noise passing between them. And slowly Helena nodded, tears springing into her eyes as her gaze dropped, her stomach clenching at the finality of the truth.

"No," Minerva whispered, "there isn't."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Yeah," Ron nodded as he picked up his pint off the polished bar top, "I can be there."

"You sure?" George leaned around Seamus, "Don't you have the little ones next week?"

"Not Friday night, I'll pick 'em up Saturday morning." Ron replied before knocking his pint back.

"They're with mom and dad next week, and I know they've got plans that night." George retorted.

His tankard clunked against the wood as he met his brother's gaze, "Relax, I'll get Hermione's parents or Hermione to watch them then."

"Or you could grow up for a night and watch them yourself." George quipped and Ron lunged towards him, spilling Seamus' pint along the counter as Seamus pushed the two apart before Ron connected.

"Whoa…" Seamus pushed Ron back again, "Your brother has a point."

Ron's face twisted, "How can you say that? It's your party!" He cried out.

"Aye," He glanced to his spilled beer and now wet shirt, "And now I'm wearing my bloody pint because ya don't like spending time with your children." He nodded toward the bar keep, "And put it on his tab." He pointed towards Ron, "One for him," he nodded towards George, "too on this guy's bill."

"I don't have to put up this shite." Ron snarled.

"Nah wonder why Hermione left ya, mate." Seamus retorted and Ron didn't pause as his fist connected with Seamus' jaw.

* * *

oxox

* * *

With great care, Carl edged into his home; fingers immediately reaching for the cool metal barrel and drawing it to him. Despite shaking hands, he released the safety and swallowed; listening to where his daughter was in relation to one of the wizards. He heard his granddaughter break free and coming forward along with his grandson, and wiped the tears off his cheek with his sleeve and took a breath.

_God, don't let me miss._ He thought as he stepped around the wall and without hesitation – fired at the wizard who was clearly in his line of sight, farthest to the left and without any one else between them.

Instantly, he shifted his aim to the man just to the right as he pumped the receiver and fired again; his daughter was already moving the wand within her hand, a spell shimmering around his grandchildren as he turned all the way to the right.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Andre flicked his wand behind him as the second percussion resonated, deflecting the muggle shot. Despite his speed, he could feel shrapnel dig into the back of his left arm and the left side of his cheek as a protego charm enveloped the children before him; Douglass was lifting his wand and in a rush; everything was in chaos.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Ginny could see the protego charm leaving Hermione's wand and knew that whatever had rang through the air; was in their favor. And she reacted accordingly, petrifying the wizard holding Hermione's mother. She rushed forward, "Get behind me!"

"The children!"

Ginny felt a numbing hex flutter across her leg and she almost fell backwards, save for Jean's steadying grip upon her arm as she retaliated with a disarming spell, immediately engaging in a shielding charm.

The light from the spell was just leaving the tip of her wand when the sectumsempra curse crashed against it; flinging both she and Jean backwards as Douglass unleashed a spell to the left of Hermione.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Peripherally, Douglass saw Yuri fly backwards and the sound of a mechanical muggle weapon reload. Without thought he cast a protego charm, feeling a burn in his wand arm and knew he had been struck. Not from the second shot, but the spray from the first one or perhaps it was the bone shards from Yuri. Either way, it didn't matter as he flicked his wand, weaving a summoning spell to the youngest child only to have his spell recoil from Hermione's protego charm.

At the sound of the elder muggle's third reloading, he went to waylay the distraction but noticed that Andre was already turning around to handle _that_ situation enabling him to focus on one of the two remaining obstacles.

Hermione Granger or Ginerva Potter.

Walker was engaging Potter and Williams along with Seri were sending a barrage of spells towards Granger.

It was an easy choice who to disarm or kill first, Potter.

She was obviously the less skilled witch and it would be far easier to take Hermione if her supports were disabled or destroyed; and at once he unleashed a sectumsempra curse at the notable witch.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione's heart stopped as the protego charm enveloped her children. _How was she to fight the wizards and witch still before her when she had to ensure her children's safety too?_

Her hand innately clenched upon the vinewood of her wand as she summoned her children to her, a spell deflecting off the charm protecting her children. "Get behind me!"

Large brown and blue eyes shockingly stared at their mother, Rose having grasped her brother's hand.

Hermione saw Andre turning as the dark haired wizard fired a bolt towards her, as did the witch. In an arcing movement, she altered the course of their spells and her father's chair splintered apart as they both impacted the leather. She levitated Rose's pad and in two flicks it had morphed into a hundred birds that were pelting the witch and wizard and she spun around; hair falling over her shoulder to see a spell leaving Andre's wand towards…

"Father!"

His focus remained resolute, as he reloaded and a maroon flash spiraled forward.

And Hermione immediately summoned the china hutch causing Andre's spell to destroy her great-grandfather's hand carved walnut cabinet; glass reigning everywhere as plates, bowls, cups and saucers joined the wood.

Andre moved his wand to fire at Hermione, when the distinct sound of the shotgun sounded again. And he morphed his spell to deflect the incoming shot; but her father didn't aim at his face or chest.

Blood splattered across the floor as the buckshot tore through shins and feet.

"Ahhhh….!" Andre screamed falling backwards as Hermione deflected another two bolts from the others.

"Rose," Hermione conjured a snake from the smoke and sent it sailing back to the witch, "the port key!"

"Got it!" Rose said as she pulled the coin from her pocket. The coin her grandfather had told her was _very special_ and she was to carry because she was just as special. And if ever her mom or grandparents told her to say Godric, she got to use it.

Hermione swung her wand in an arc, a windstorm springing towards Douglass, Andre and the other intruders and pushing them towards the kitchen. "Ginny, Mom, Dad…grab Rose!"

She fought to keep the wind at an extremely high velocity, Douglass was holding onto the doorframe, body airborne. Andre had impacted the wall, body pinned; as had the other three.

She couldn't see her father, but her mother was pulling Ginny who looked to have been badly cursed and goodness knew how her children were doing.

"Hermione…"

"Go!" She screamed without looking back, feeling a wave of relief sweep through her that they were going to be safe as an Avada Kedarva curse defied the high wind and sped towards her. _Damn!_

At the last moment, she conjured a shield charm and felt her body reverberate backwards and not stopping her back sunk into the wall.

"Godric…" Rose said as their eyes met and she watched in horror as another killing curse sped towards her daughter.

The portkey activating…

A shimmer pulling Ginny…

And then Rose released Ginny's hand to grasp her brother...disconnecting them from the group.

A bolt shimmering from Ginny's wand as blood spewed from her mouth…and connecting with the curse and her parents were thrust to either side…and Hermione wanted to cry.

Only Ginny had left.

Her family had all remained.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Ginny watched in horror as Hermione's body flew backwards past them, she would have at minimum a broken rib from the impact. The only saving grace was that she had seen Hermione manage to conjure a shield charm which had temporarily saved her life.

Rose's quivering voice spouted out the founder's name, "Godric…"

A moment later, she saw the galleon fall into her hand as Rose stepped away. She tried to grasp at her niece's fingers with her own but they were immobile and she was gone as she felt the pull along her navel.

She brought up her wand and forced her lungs to push extra air through her mouth; wordlessly casting a protego charm to protect Hermione's family.

A bright light momentarily blinded her as the force behind the collision of her spells with the killing curse pulsing outward and then she felt her body land upon a cool wooden floor.

Blinking…she tried moving, eyes having problems focusing on her surroundings as she desperately sought to determine her whereabouts. "…'ello?" She muttered, pulling herself over and her side erupting in pain from where the curse had only moments ago struck her.

"Ahh….." She cried out in a gasp, suddenly realizing _where_ she was.

Home.

Hermione had crafted a port-key for her children to come to her home.

"…'arry…" She clutched her side, hoping to staunch the blood that was rapidly ebbing out of her system; quickly wetting her fingers and running down her hand.

"Is that you Ginerva?" Severus' voice echoed down the hall.

Ginny couldn't help the smile from forming upon her face at the irony of her life. The painting she had been less than happy to have in her home because of his less than congenial nature was now the one entity that could not only help her, her niece and nephew, Hermione's parents along with Hermione; but also save all of their lives.

"S…everus." She gasped for a deeper breath, "Help. 'Ermione…we were…attack…" Her eyes were getting heavy and the pain was beginning to ease. "…help, Seve..rus."

She muttered, trying to stay awake. "…elp."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Neither had spoken for a few minutes, each grappling with their own feelings stemming from their frank conversation and reveling information. They had both retreated into themselves, reflecting and simmering over the last of each of the glasses of malt.

"Will you be able to rest some this coming week?" Helena finally ventured as she slid forward, pulling the stopper from the decanter. "More?"

"I have far too many liver de-toxing potions in my stores." Minerva pushed her glass to Helena. "And I am trying to keep my schedule light. I was supposed to have a meeting with the Governors on Tuesday that I moved to next week; otherwise, Head of House meetings and preparing for next years curricula. And a few personal loose ends…" She sighed as she relayed what she meant by personal. "Updating my will."

Helena tried not to blanch, but she was sure that despite herself; she did. However, she quickly recovered, trying to make light of the bleak future. "So the usual?"

"Barring any unforeseen surprises, yes."

She finished pouring Minerva's glass, "How long…do you foresee that you'll be able to stretch your magic?"

Minerva took the glass Helena had just poured, "Three more duels, perhaps just one if it happens to be Johannes."

"And the warding at Hogwarts?"

"My bond seems to negate some of the magical drain that deals with Hogwarts." Minerva leaned back, "And your concussion? How much is it affecting you? And subsequently Harold?"

Helena gripped the crystalline glass, "I haven't cast many spells and have only done the rudimentary aspects of the Administrator role this past week. My reserves are taxed by the time I finish with Chrix. We've both been living on pepper up potions this week, and I can't thank you enough for whatever you did to our glasses. Is it some type of auto-adjustment or auto-focusing charm?"

"I embedded the adjustment charm into cells the glasses."

"How about I don't relay that Harold?" Helena nestled into the cushions, "Transfiguration is such a mystery to him."

"I'd hate to not leave him with a few." Minerva tipped her head to the side, wondering how her _niece _was with learning her condition. "How is Jordan?"

Helena's face lightened, "Surprisingly well." A twinkle sparkling amidst the blue. "And she has stopped by St. Mungos twice this last week."

"Really?" It had been years since Jordan had stopped by St. Mungos, even to see her mother. "A personal visit to see you?"

"Once, and the other to volunteer on for an hour on the mild malady wing."

Minerva felt her heart lift, "She came in to volunteer?"

Helena's laugh was mixed with joy and relief, "Yes, I couldn't believe it when Jayne told me." She paused and met Minerva's gaze with a suddenly tepid one. "Do you think…" She sighed shaking her head, "Never mind, it's foolish to believe or even hope. She is doing so well as a pastry chef, business couldn't be better."

"I do." Minerva sincerely relayed referencing her previous question, "I think Jordan will one day return to the art of healing. She has as much passion for the discipline as you."

"She has more talent than I."

"I find that hard to believe." Minerva remarked, "While she may one day be your equal Helena, I find it difficult to believe that she would be able to surpass you. Your mastery is not solely your ability but your vast knowledge and remarkable problem solving skills that enable adaptation and innovation. I have never met a more capable healer nor passionate one, and I do not believe if I were to live for another hundred years that I would find someone who could be classified as an equal."

"MINERVA!" The very distinct voice of Severus Snape bellowed outward, ending any and all conversation as both women jumped up, glasses of malt falling to the floor, as they darted to the banister.

"What is it Severus?" Minerva had already begun braiding her hair.

"Ginny arrived I believe by port-key at her residence and is in dire need of medical assistance; she and Hermione were ambushed…"

Minerva's hand shot towards the chesterfield, her wand immediately sailing across the air as Helena's hand landed upon her left forearm.

"…she was unable to pass any other information."

"Minerva," The tenor in Helena's voice dropping, "with everything, your magic and health which are so fragile; please let someone else go."

Minerva reached in and pulled a sickle from her pocket, "Make a port-key to St. Mungos that will enable whoever uses it to by-pass the wards."

"Please…" Helena pleaded.

"I can't." Minerva rasped, "No more than if that were you, would I remain. To do so would kill me more."

Helena's hand darted to the sickle as she summoned her own wand, and focused upon the wards of St. Mungos and the necessary spell. "Portus." She handed the coin back, "Go…" She grudgingly stated to the now empty room as a whiff of air rushed against her skin. "Dilys alert Micheals," She lunged down the stairs as she continued to spout, "Everard, get Arthur." She inwardly pulled on her bond as she rounded the banister at the foot of the staircase, "Albus, can you find Rory?" Floo powder jumping out of the canister, "And….." She didn't finish speaking to the distinguished gallery of portraits as dozens of the frames were already empty as the fire altered its color and she called out, "The Potters." She should have realized that the portraits had already known that Minerva had left, and of late had far too much practice as to who was to alert whom.

She had never been inside Harry and Ginny's home as her feet came to rest upon a wood floor in what obviously was a den. She turned her head, blond hair flying behind her as eyes took in the room, "Ginerva?" She called out, "Severus?"

She strode from the den, head scanning to the left but immediately turned to the right upon seeing a mane of ginger red hair askew upon the floor and a deep red puddle of blood surrounding her. She didn't even scan the woman's vitals, knowing that from the sheer amount of blood, Ginerva wasn't well as she levitated and quickly moved her into the den where she morphed the floo not having time for the powder.

"St. Mungos," She called out, flicking her wand at the flame and then sending Ginerva through and following almost instantly.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva had felt the coin drop into her hand, was mentally already shifting the wards as she steeled her reserves and nerves; and with one last look into blue eyes she pictured her destination, her magic pulsed, she could feel it strain and then she was standing in the Granger's kitchen.

"NO!" The end of Hermione's strangled scream breaking across her skin; and she loathed to contemplate what had been the cause of it.

The soft yellows, small bushel of chives and oregano hanging over the stove, a glass of milk partially emptied sitting on the edge of the counter swept over Minerva's field of vision as she grabbed two knives from the wood block before pushing the door into the living room open and stepping willingly into utter chaos.

Despite already feeling moderately fatigued from her apparation, she didn't hesitate. With a flick and swish, the two knives had multiplied into two dozen and were embedding themselves into Walker's back as she finished assessing the dire situation.

Hermione was across the room, hair clinging to her face and forehead; splattering of blood littering her robes as she conjured protego charms and summoned the remaining objects in the room to assist in deflecting or taking the impact of each spell thrust at her, the children or her mother. Tear streaks reflected off her checks from the light and spells along with Jean's. Jean's clothes were stained with a deep red, and from the pattern; it looked as though it was from someone else and that other than some minor cuts she seemed alright. The side of the house had been blown open and from the size; it appeared that Carl's body had been object used to create the hole. She'd have to concern herself with the elder muggle's welfare after the children were safe.

At once, Douglass and Andre – despite the blood gushing from his lower extremities turned to her. "Minerva…" Andre's smile vanishing as Minerva had already apparated away. As one both he and Douglass returned their onslaught upon Hermione; or rather her children.

Minerva appeared and felt the heat from the spells, a protego charm spiraling to meet the plasma bolts. "Rose." Minerva called as she summoned the particles of wood, glass and other sundry broken particles with a flick and transfigured them into shafts of metal and daggers of glass; hurling towards the four remaining wizards and witch. She turned back, ebony hair falling over her shoulder as she reached for the young lass and felt her stomach drop.

She hadn't been able to see the children, but she could now see that Rose had been injured previously from flying debris. Fresh blood was running freely down her leg as she stood paralyzed and unable to move forward as her 'Aunt' had asked her to do.

"Can you hold them for two more minutes?" Minerva directed at Hermione as Andre sent two more killing curses at Minerva, Douglass sending a shive of molten metal at her as Hermione was blown backward from the impact by Seri's spell.

"Hurry!" Hermione said as she pulled up the flooring before her and charmed the wood into a blockade and Minerva morphed the shive into snake which struck and swallowed the misty deadly green spells before advancing upon Douglass.

"Rose." Minerva said again.

"She won't let anything happen." Jean stated to her granddaughter as another explosion and debris reigned down upon them and she shielded her grandchildren.

Peripherally, she could see Rose move towards her as she and Hermione were under another barrage of spells. Instinctively, Minerva went to dodge the first spell; but the trajectory would be ill for Hermione or Rose and she couldn't risk either of them. Casting a protego charm, she blocked the first one; adjusted the cruciatus curses trajectory and heard it crash into what was left of the wall as she felt the small hand belonging to Rose Weasley touch her back and she conjured a veiled shield before them. She reached behind her as she kept the shield in effect and lifted the young lass into her arm.

"Hold on…" She whispered into brown hair before transforming her shield into a lion that charged forward and with a soft pop; they were standing just outside the house. Minerva ignored the clamor of the duel only fifty meters behind her, as luminescent eyes scanned the debris.

"What about Hugo?" Rose asked scrambling backwards. "And mom and Nana?"

"We are going to get," Minerva banished a large piece of wood covering the elder muggle, "Your grandfather." She pulled out the sickle as she knelt down next to the ashen colored man and set the young woman down. "I'm going back into help your mother, but I need you to be a brave lass and take this coin and help your grandfather."

Brown eyes darted to the menagerie of colors emanating from her grandparents house, "But…"

Minerva reached up and tilted Rose's gaze back to her own. "I need you to go.

Her little jaw quivered, "What bout's you?"

"I'll be along, lass." Minerva placed the coin into Rose's palm, "Don't let this go or your grandfather."

Rose nodded, "I didn't mean to last time."

"Now say the word, Portus." Minerva withdrew her hand as brown eyes blinked up at hers. "I'll be right behind you."

"Promises?"

"Go, Rose."

Rose clenched her jaw, determination sparking behind brown eyes and she nodded. "I love you." She whispered immediately followed by the word. "Portus." And she and Carl were gone.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Two more have just come in!" Michaels called, causing Helena to glance up and a heavy weight to settle upon her heart. Minerva was not among them, and only one of the children.

That bode ill if Minerva had only been able to get one child out initially.

And from the look upon Michaels face as he swept forward, the man was in dire need of medical attention. "Trauma two." He called out confirming her observation.

"Seal the liver." Helena pulled her hands from Ginerva, "And where are the blood infusions?"

"Coming…" Healer Tamara stated from the doorway.

"By the time they get here," She banished the clot forming by her kidney, "she won't have any and it'll be moot." Her eyes darted to the young girl standing just outside the trauma room.

Rose Weasley. She could see the confusion, worry and panic etched upon her face as Michael levitated the man she arrived with. She needed to send or have someone there for her or risk her going into shock too; as Merlin knew what she had born witness too and if her mother or anyone else was still alive. However, she was not in a position to be able to leave Ginerva yet. Her eyes glanced across the room but was spared as she felt a comforting presence swell through her, and Harold stepped within view. She scanned the diagnostic, eyes momentarily darting upwards when the door opened - Harold glanced back as did young Rose and at his nod and measure of strength; she was assured that Minerva and everyone else was still alive. At least for the moment.

"No," Helena countered, "that'll take to long, administer it in the aorta directly. We need oxygen to get to the brain, we'll worry about her legs shortly."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione had felt relief upon seeing Minerva arrive, helping to staunch the overwhelming feeling of guilt that her father had been gravelly wounded if not killed only a moment prior.

Her immediate thought at seeing the wizard's eyes go wide from the plethora of knives that Minerva had embedded in his back was that…_They were going to get out of this alive._

_Her children would live._

The next three minutes, she had to continue to push her magic, herself, as they struggled to create a pocket to enable safe transport. However, upon realizing that Minerva was only going to take one, she was both surprised and then…befuddled. One?

Why not both children?

And then she saw that her daughter had been hurt and the guilt in her breast would have swallowed her whole but Minerva vanished leaving her to protect her mother and son as she tiredly cast another protego charm.

And another.

And another before firing back to hexes and morphing the last spell into smoke which she spun back upon Andre as a pocket of steam before casting another protego charm.

And another.

She spun and ducked, robes flourishing about her as she pulled a piece of metal into a shield and then a suite of armor that charged the witch.

She tried not to think of who was behind her as more debris reigned over top of her, praying that her mother and son were all right in behind her as an errant spell caused her wand to be pulled from her fingertips.

"ehhh….nooo…" Hermione screamed as her wand sailed through the air and towards Andre. Douglass was already firing a stunning spell, as had the witch and other wizard at her.

_There was no way to avoid all three stunning spells_, she thought as she reached for her second wand, fingers nimbly grasping the warm wood as dread blanketed her senses – she wouldn't have her second wand freed in time to be able to cast a spell either.

_So close…_she thought as her heart seized while pulling her ancillary wand free, the spell only a meter from her. _I wonder if I'll survive the spells?_ She thought before feeling a push backwards as another body slammed into her own.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva had oft wondered if Aurora had been overzealous in her rendition of how she had looked when struck by the four stunners. How her body had fluttered across the lawns seeming to glow an ethereally red and a hint of yellow. Albus had jokingly stated that she had glowed red and gold because of her being such a stout Gryffindor at heart; and if Severus had been struck as many times – he was assured his colleague would have glowed green.

Although, at seeing Jean's body lunge in front of her daughter's; she wasn't sure if Albus was that far off the mark. However, it was superfluous information that she had never wished to truly know and was horrifyingly baring witness to what she herself had painfully experienced thirteen years ago.

Jean's eyes landed upon hers, determination flickering in their depths and mutual understanding passing between them as Hermione's body was pushed backwards and then she glowed a menagerie of red, gold and as the third stunner struck her – a deep purple; eyes widening and pupils dilating in pain and then glossing over before her body thudded to the floor.

"Nana!" Hugo yelled as his grandmother bounced, lip quivering and tears in his eyes; he glanced upwards, fingers clenched around his now dusty blue rabbit.

A binding hex was spiraling towards him and Minerva pulled upon her magic, her calculating reservation having been dispelled as she yanked the hex away from him. And at once, she conjured a plasma ball and fired it at all four remaining adversaries – her hands burning from the draw upon her magic.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione saw a sprinkling of gray interspersed with brown hair as she stumbled and fell backward and she realized who had just knocked her out of the way – _her mother._

She tried to move, to do something…but her momentum was going the opposite way she wanted and needed to. Her eyes could see first one, then a second and the luminescent glow that seemed to emit from her mother's body reminded her of that fateful night all those years ago when she was taking her Owls upon the Astronomy Tower when Minerva had been struck by four stunners and barely survived.

She watched in horror as her mother was struck with a third one, the glow darkening to a deep purple as her breath was forced from her lungs upon impact. She tried to scramble upright as Hugo yelled after his grandmother; fingers clutching at the dropped wand from her fall, when she felt a numbing envelop her fingers and she heard a roar of spells hurl across the remnants of the living room.

Her eyes jerked backwards to see Minerva.

She had never looked more like the woman she had come to admire, respect, and love and less like the woman who was Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Gone were her distinguishing emerald robes, hair swept up into a bun, her square gold framed glasses perched on her nose. Minerva was not wearing her traditional robes; or rather she had already shed her outer layer of robes for the evening and was only wearing her most inner layer – a sleeveless moss sage green mix of silk and linen that was tapered along her waist, flaring over hips and coming to rest at her ankles.

Despite the relaxed attire and overall abnormal appearance, the glint in her eyes, the set of her jaw – she looked absolutely murderous.

A small part of Hermione felt truly scared, and so very thankful that she was upon the same side as the powerful witch.

Then her eyes landed upon Minerva's arms and her breath caught as brown eyes immediately scanned down the length; noting that the forearm was red and progressively grew darker until the wrists were obviously burned and fingers appearing charcoal. Minerva's head snapped backward, "Take Jean and go!"

"Hugo…" Hermione breathed, but was overrode by winded words.

"She won't survive." Minerva swept in front of Hugo as her protego charm pushed them backwards.

And Hermione forced her fingers to grip the wand, hand landing on her mother's earthly still form, casting another protego to them. She focused on St. Mungos and waited a heartbeat, casting one final gaze upon her son and Minerva – before apparating away.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry flooed into the den and felt a world of unease swell in his stomach at the trail of blood littering his floor, "Ginny!" He called, wand already out as he rounded the corner and felt his world stop at the huge puddle of blood lying in the middle of the hallway.

"GINNY!" He cast his eyes to either side, trying to remember to breath despite not being able to think.

"Potter!" Severus' voice broke the paralyzing effect, causing him to shake his head and take the half dozen steps to the front of the portrait.

"Where's Ginny?"

"At St. Mungos."

Harry went to leave but Severus' use of his first name stilled his movement.

"Listen Harry. She is with Helena at St. Mungos. She and Hermione were ambushed at…"

"…her parents' house." Harry murmured.

"Minerva has gone to assist Hermione's parents; Ginny arrived here and Helena took her to get treatment. She was gravely wounded."

"And Hermione?"

"Dilys just returned and said that Rose and the father had arrived at St. Mungos."

"Thank you…" Harry spun on his heel, feeling torn as he went to stride into his den but opted to fly out the front door. His wife was in the hands of one of the best healers in the world. His best friend however…wasn't.

The icy breeze steeling his breath as he ran down the yard to get past the anti-apparation wards, flinging the gate open as he slid on the ice. Images of Hermione being hurt or worse dead flashing through his mind as he stumbled over the last marker.

And from a distant memory, he conjured the Granger's home within his mind and with a loud crack he was gone.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Trauma unit to the front desk. Trauma unit to the front desk."

Helena glanced to the diagnostic, Ginerva was back from the brink. While not entirely stable, she was far from dying in the next ten minutes. "She needs another two infusions, and then begin the spinal repair." She peeled her gloves off, throwing them on the floor as she strode from the room and jogged forward.

_Please don't be Minerva, _she thought and then found herself recanting her previous statement. _Please let it be Minerva versus the other child._

She could see brown hair, blood and then the ashen features of Hermione Granger and another woman; wearing muggle attire. _Her mother?_ Helena wondered as she heard Trent ask what the problem was. Hermione blinked at the elder wizard, but said nothing. He was in the process of asking again, when Helena was finally close enough to rest her hand upon the younger witch's shoulder as she knelt down. "Hermione," She stated, noting that brown eyes did finally move to meet her gaze, "What happened to you and your mother?"

"Stunned." Hermione finally rasped, "Three…" The words caught in her throat.

"Three times."

Hermione nodded as the two healers were frantically working on her mother. "That should be me…" She whispered, "I should be…" And with a shuddering breath she blinked back the tears, "I need…" She went to stand, but Helena's hand stayed her. "I_ need _to go." Panic brown eyes met blue ones; it was obvious that she was barely holding it together. "Hugo…dear Merlin, what if….I need…"

"Where is he?"

"The house with…" Their eyes locked and no more words were said. There didn't need to be. There was only one person who Hermione would have trusted with her children in that type of situation, just like there was only one person other than Harold whom Helena would trust.

"She'll bring him back."

"I need to…" The words died in her throat as the numbing in her hands seemed to have turned into liquid fire that had literally spread across the whole of her skin. "Ahhh….." Tears fell heedlessly from her eyes as her wand clattered to the floor and she felt arms wrapping around her as a deep thrum of magic pulsed from what felt like her very bones and spread outward almost immediately nullifying the liquid fire across her skin and leaving the pain she had had before in her chest, back, and everywhere a muscle was connected to.

"You're staying." Helena summoned Hermione's wand and met suddenly clear brown eyes, "you aren't leaving until I've checked you out." She eased backwards, once she was sure Hermione was going to remain upright as they levitated Hermione's mother.

Hermione began shaking her head, "No…Hugo…Minerva…"

"By the time you get back," Helena held on tight, "It'll be over." Her own tears burned against her eyes, "One way or the other."

Hermione tried to break free, but the woman's iron grip was unrelenting. "Please…"

"You are in no condition to help either one," Helena countered, "and need medical treatment."

"Just let me go," Hermione tried one last time, "_they_ need me."

While Helena had no doubt they did, she didn't budge. She was a healer first, friend second. And Hermione _needed _to see a healer. Without running a diagnostic, she could tell that her ribs had been compromised, breathing was shallow, light damage to the hip, not counting her physical and magical exhaustion and who knew what else. "Rose needs you too."

"Rose?"

"Come on," Helena stood and offered Hermione her hand, "Harold's with her. She's being treated for some extraneous injures, nothing life threatening; but she doesn't need to be left alone." Helena's keen eye also noticed the slight lip and favoring along her right side, "Ginny is still in surgery; she's fairly critical."

"Has Harry been informed?"

"We're working on it."

Hermione stopped grabbing Helena's robes, "Who else is on their way to help Minerva?"

"I don't know." Helena honestly replied, fingers darting out to once again stop Hermione; "Your son will be fine, however, your daughter _does_ need you right now."

"Are you sure?"

Helena knew what she was asking, and if it had been any other time; any other year, there would have been no hesitation. No doubt. But it wasn't any other time or year; it was today, and Minerva was not as strong as she once was. However, it didn't make her any less resourceful or determined. "She doesn't know how not to succeed."

With a heavy heart, Hermione grudgingly continued into trauma center, "What are the odds of my mom...surviving?"

"About the same as your father." Helena honestly answered as they rounded the corner to the trauma wing, "Both are in critical condition."

"Dad's here?" Shock was plainly written upon Hermione's face.

Helena paused outside of trauma three's room; where Hermione's mother had been taken. "He came in with Rose about three minutes before your arrival."

"Minerva…must have left with Rose to get him…" A tendril of relief fluttering across her face.

"Hermione, you _must_ see a healer; you have some fractured ribs and ancillary problems; Rose is through," She pointed to trauma room six's door. "There. Go ahead in. I need…" Helena went to open the door, but Hermione stopped her.

"Please save her."

Helena didn't respond, merely finished opening the door. Hermione stood there watching Helena for a long moment, wand swirling in the air as spell after spell left the tip of the Healers wands.

And she was about to try and grant herself entry when her mother's body jerked violently on the table, but a timid voice stilled her movement.

"Mom?"

Hermione's head whipped around, tears pressing against her eyes as Rose scrambled forward; limp prevalent as she stretched out her small arms and latched them around her neck as Hermione swooped down and picked her up. "Yes, Rose." She hugged her back, very deeply as she closed her eyes and thanked Merlin that she was alive.

"Aunt Minerva said she'd bring you back." Rose murmured, "She promised."

Hermione nodded, "It's alright, you're safe." She felt Rose move and she had to pull Rose to the side.

"Mom? You is hurt like me?" Rose asked.

"No," Hermione finally noticed that Harold was holding the door open, "you have a much larger boo boo than I do."

Brown eyes scanned the area, "Where's Hugo and Aunt Minerva?"

"They…" Hermione met Harold's gaze and thankfully he finished her statement.

"…were delayed." Harold reached out and took Rose from Hermione's arms; easily able to discern that the young woman's side was not well.

"Like I was with Aunt Ginny because I let go her hand." She turned back to her mom, "I didn't mean to mom. Hugo dropped his bunny and he leaned forward to get it and I went with him; I really didn't mean to let go."

"I know sweetheart." Hermione glanced at the healer who was patiently waiting on them to return to the bed where Rose must have been prior to running out to see her. "It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But because is, Peepaw is hurt." Rose said as Harold placed her upon the bed.

"No," Hermione said looking directly into her daughter's eyes, "him getting injured had nothing to do with you. Never think it did."

"But…"

"Ever." Hermione whispered with conviction. "They were bad people who were trying to hurt you, Hugo, Nana, Peepaw, me, and your Aunt Ginny along with Aunt Minerva."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva heard the crack behind her and felt a margin of relief swell within her breast; Hermione and Jean were gone leaving just her and Hugo.

Her protego charm buckled and she cast another one as she swirled around, hefting Hugo up into her arm as she did. He immediately clamored into her chest, hugging her with his arms; "Hold on tight." She whispered into his ginger hair as she held him to her with her left arm.

"I will máthair." He murmured clutching onto her tighter as she whirled back around and ducked, feeling a curse pass by her right hip as she cast another protego charm and jerked the other two spells off course.

"You made a mistake coming here Douglass." She said standing back upright as the other three wizards and witch met her gaze.

"As did you for remaining here." He countered, "As you are far more precious to us than Granger." And with a nod, he and Seri apparated, Minerva fired a series of spells toward Williams as she advanced, causing him to lose balance while dodging to the right from Andre; and she heard two more apparations – and pushed onward, ignoring her flank as she transformed his arms and legs into plant stems.

"No!" Hugo called out and Minerva dropped to a knee as she spun around, feeling her knee cap crack from the added weight as he threw his blue rabbit and morphed it into an oversize lion that lumbered forward, causing Seri's spell to be errant and enabling Minerva's spell to clash with Douglass'.

Sparks flew and jerked between their wands; a spray of red and blue spilling outward, burning a hole through the ceiling causing furniture to reign down and Minerva let Hugo go, using her left hand to alter the tumbling dresser to her left; as a spell shot from Andre and wood became shrapnel. She could feel it peppering her left side and hear Hugo's quiet cry as her hand wrapped around him again, easing death grip around her neck and she summoned the whole of her magic; the effect was immediate and Douglass' spell shattered, along with his wand. His body flinging into the wall as the rest of the spell exploded the far side of the house outward and Minerva arced her wand instantly back and in an arc and a shimmering wall erected around she and Hugo as a cruciatus curse impacted the barrier.

A large part of Minerva _wanted_ to finish Douglass, Andre and Seri; but she couldn't. She didn't have the reserves. She already couldn't feel her hands, not counting how badly her arms were burnt. And more importantly, she had to protect Hugo. Without a second thought, she tried to picture the white columns of St. Mungos; but the veiled shield buckled and she didn't have time. A loud crack resonated outward as the barrage of spells shattered the shield, a whiff of smoke and Douglass swore. "Damn!" He snapped at seeing the vacant area.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry could see the spray of light eschewing from gaping holes littering the once quaint Granger home; neighbors coming out to see what the disturbance was, and Harry ignored them. He scrambled forward only to have to duck as another huge piece from the side of the house hurled towards him. He could feel the snow against his face, burning his fingers as he pushed himself upright.

He could see a woman…and if he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was none other than McGonagall amidst the debris with his nephew secured tightly against her chest; a pulsing veiled shield completely circling them and he fired a binding spell at the witch closest as he ran forward. He could see a barrage of spells striking the shield, and knew that it wouldn't last; a raucous crack resonated, the witch fell from his spell and a only smoke remained where McGonagall and Hugo had once stood.

Douglass spouted, "Damn." And then turned, levitating a piece of wood and hurling toward Harry. Harry transfigured it into a toothpick, and was about to fire another hex; but the distinct sound of apparation filled the air.

They were gone.

Harry jumped in through the side of what was left of the house, eyes scanning the remnants.

There were bodies littering the floor, it seemed that Douglass had taken those who were alive with him. Thankfully, none of the bodies were of those he knew.

He'd come back here shortly to assist with the clean-up; but he thought where McGonagall would go and immediately went to apparate to St. Mungos, however, he changed his mind at the last minute.

Vague words fluttering to his mind from a conversation between he, Ginny, and Hermione shortly before Hermione had started at Hogwarts. _'…know that for some people, perhaps St. Mungos isn't the preferred choice. Hogwarts is.'_

And apparated to Hogwarts.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Máthair…?" Hugo remained unmoving for a long moment after the soft, warm magic had fluttered across him and blanketed out the awful noise; and they had appeared outside of her big castle home and her body fell backwards landing in the snow. "Máthair…?" He tried again, finally pulling his arms from around her neck and peering into her face to see her eyes were closed, and lips slightly apart. "Waked up." He tugged on her collar, "Peezes."

He glanced up at the huge gates and back to his Aunt…no…his máthair. "Peezes Merva. You'se gots to waked up."

And then he saw her arms, and he started shaking his head, "Noo…noo… máthair. You'se promised."

His little legs trudged quickly through the snow, hand touching the icy metal. "Helps! Helps!" His cried out, "Máthair needs is helps!"

A loud crack caused him to jump and look behind him to see his Uncle Harry's shadow. "Uncle Harry! Máthair needs is helps!"

_Máthair? Who is Máthair?_ Harry thought as his head snapped up to see his nephew running back towards him, panic lacing his young face as another crack sounded to the right and another to left and another and another and another.

Harry's wand was immediately drawn, dread at the notion that they had been followed to the Gates of Hogwarts by Douglass. However, that couldn't have been farther from the truth as a half dozen house elves appeared around them.

"Milksy's…" Hugo grabbed the light skinned elf and pointed to dark shadow lying in the snow. "Máthair needs helps!"

A stately elf stepped forward, "We'se will takes care of the Mistress young Master Hugo."

And Harry narrowed his eyes and realized _who _Hugo was referring to, Minerva. _He had started calling her Máthair. Was that easier than Minerva? _

Milksy nodded at her young charge. "She's be alright. But you'se…" Yellow eyes darkened, "is needing care too."

Harry came forward, "I'll take him to St. Mungos," He put his wand into his robe, "Hugo…"

Hugo glanced to his stout Uncle and back to Milksy and then over to where several of the house elves were now gathered around his máthair and he shook his head, "No, I don't wants to leave hers." Blue eyes shined in the moonlight, "She's not leave me."

Harry knelt down and pulled his nephew's gaze from the cluster of house elves and the disturbingly still and horribly burnt woman who meant as much to him as he Hugo. "She'd want you to be alright. Why you are seeing a healer, I'm sure they are going to take Minerva to one too."

"I's comes back?" Hugo's jaw rippled.

"I'll bring you back or you can come back with your mom, alright?"

A moan slipped where Minerva lay, followed by a coarse, "No…Hugo…?"

Harry lifted Hugo and at once, took the three steps separating Minerva from them. At seeing her, buried in the snow; it only highlighted how badly her arms had been burn; the fingers appearing almost black all the way to her elbow and heavily charcoaled to her shoulder. "He's safe Minerva."

Dilated green eyes fluttered and fixed upon Harry, and then upon the young boy in his arms as he knelt beside her. "You…were…very…brave…my little lad, now…" Green eyes closed, "stay with your Uncle Harry until you find your mom."

"I'se don't wants to gos Máthair." His soft voice breaking Harry's heart as he reached out to hold onto the collar of her robe.

"You need…for a wee bit. I'll be along…shortly." She rasped and Harry noticed elder elf wipe a trail of tears from his eyes.

"Promises?" Hugo's finger flickered along the hemline.

A blackened hand reached up and tear filled eyes met his, "I promise," she pulled his hand from the collar, "Hugo. Time to go Harry."

"Minerva…will you be, alright?" He brokenly asked while standing.

"…Elgin…" She called out, head beginning to lull to the side and at once a loud crack echoed across the snow; leaving only a snowy impression of where Minerva had lain and a wizard and young boy at the gates.

"Hold on." Harry said as he tightened his hold on the young boy, and with one final glance to the fabled institution; he apparated to St. Mungos.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harry strode past the greeting area, immediately heading toward the trauma ward. "I'm afraid Mr. Potter that you can't…"

"My wife is in there, as is his mother. Now," Harry continued walking, "let me through."

The guard moved aside and enabled entry, the doors to the trauma wing instantly opening and Harry stood stock still for a moment as healers scrambled across the area in a controlled frenzy.

"Uncle Harry?" Hugo leaned back, eyes glancing around the turmoil, "Is mum here?"

"We'll find her." He rubbed his back.

"My legs and arm hurt."

"I know." Harry kissed his cheek, "Give me a few more minutes and I'll make sure they feel better."

"'kay." He murmured, as Harry finally saw a face he recognized. Harold was coming towards him.

"Harold."

"Harry." His eyes flashed to the boy in his arms, "Hermione will be thrilled to see you both."

"She's alright?" Harry followed Harold around the corner.

"Overall." He opened the door to trauma room 6, and Harry stepped into to see his niece chattering by Hermione's side as a healer was running diagnostics on his best friend.

"Any news…?" Hermione began as she looked up to see Harry and her son; tears sprung in her eyes as she pushed off the bed with a wince and met Harry and Hugo halfway in a bear hug. She kissed Harry's cheek and then Hugo's as her hand ran through his hair. "You're alright."

Hugo lunged from Harry's neck to that of his mother's, burrowing into the crook of her collarbone. "Máthair's not." He murmured as Rose came to stand beside them.

"Where's Aunt Minerva?" Rose questioned her brother and Uncle Harry as he separated from her mother.

Harry met Hermione's anxious gaze, "She's at Hogwarts."

Hermione swallowed, "She will be Hugo." She reassured and then glanced to her daughter, "Aunt Minerva is at Hogwarts getting treatment just like we are from here."

Rose glanced to Hugo who shook his head as he hugged him mom tighter, "You sure?"

"Yes." Hermione tried to sound convincing, but the look from Harry stole her resolve.

"Ma'am, I need to finish...your diagnostic and continue treatment on your ribs." The healer stated, breaking the moment.

Hermione started to turn but finally realized that the side of Hugo's leg was moist. "Hugo, are you…?" She shifted to see that he had several small red blood spots along his left side. "We need to get your side checked out."

"Da bad man tried to yellow thing at máthair, and she's put a dresser from the upped stairs in its way. It broked everywhere." Hugo animatedly stated.

"Really?" Rose asked and Hugo nodded.

"It was so cool!" Hugo continued, "She's did it with no wand."

Harry and Hermione glanced to Hugo as Hermione placed him on the bed and nodded to him for the healer to look at. "Shirt off."

Hugo complied as he made a face, tugging it over his head. "And whened she almost gots hit, I threwed my rabbit! It grewed, like me, into a _huge_ lion and went after the mean woman in the redded."

"You did not Hugo." Rose chastised her brother.

"I did too!"

There was a small peppering along his shoulder, upper arm and ribs, but nothing along his waist. "It looks as though someone was holding him and helped to prevent any debris from striking a vulnerable area."

"Minerva." Hermione whispered as her eyes met Harry's and he tipped his head to the side. At once, they both moved away from the chattering children, "Harold…do you mind?"

The elder wizard nodded and they stepped just outside the door.

"Where's Ginny?" He asked.

"Trauma one." Hermione laid her hand upon his arm, "She's still critical but stable."

"What happened?"

"She was struck by a sectumsempra curse along her side, significant blood loss."

His hand went to his mouth and he turned around, tears shinning in his eyes. "Ahhh…"

She wrapped her arms around him, "She'll make it."

A few seconds passed before she felt his body collapse against hers and he clung to her like a lifeline. "Merlin…Hermione." He rasped, "You, Ginny…the kids…Minerva." His grip became tighter, but he pulled back as a stark reality crossed his consciousness. "Your parents?"

Brown eyes immediately misted, "Cri..tical." She whispered, "Mom was struck with three…stunners that were meant for me and dad," she gasped out, "thrown threw the house walls."

Harry and Hermione's embrace tightened for a long moment, both drawing strength upon the other; until the Trauma ward sprung open and both were jittery as they broke apart hands falling to their wands to see a throng of people enter. Ron, Seamus, George, along with Molly and Arthur.

"I…" Ron glanced past them and into the room, seeing his son and daughter at the far end of the room. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Hermione started but was interrupted.

"Rose and Hugo?" Eyes darted back to his ex-wife, "They were attacked?"

"A few minor scrapes."

Ron's eyes grew, "I told you…" His voice instantly rose an entire octave, "having the kids be around McGonagall was dangerous and now," his hand motioned to where the children were, "they're _hurt!_"

Harry's anger immediately flared, as did Seamus', George and Arthur's, even Molly winced at the ill words her son had spoken, and felt heart sickened that he didn't stop.

"They could have been killed, because you wanted to _feel_ important. You are important! You are _their_ mother! What were you thinking?"

Brown eyes flashed, and her voice was seething. "Stop!"

"Stop!" He scoffed, "Yes, _you _are going to stop endangering our children. If they see McGonagall again…"

His words became silent, eyes bulging as he stared at Hermione as tears fell from her eyes and white knuckles flexed upon her wand; his body beginning to levitate a few centimeters off the floor.

"Hermione…" Harry went to reach out, "let him go."

She took another long breath and forced herself to relax and at once Ron's body collapsed to the floor.

"Thank you," Harry whispered as he rested his hand upon her shoulder.

"Get him out of here." She murmured into olive eyes as she turned.

Ron drew his wand out as he stood, "Try that again, as I'm not leaving until I take my children away from you and any semblance of danger because of _that _woman."

Harry went to yell at Ron to shut his damn pigheaded mouth before he uttered any more moronic theories, but the words died on his lips as Hermione's head whipped around. Her irises had turned red and the wand in her hand flashed, swooped and arced in a blink; and a rush of magic swept forward and engulfed Ron.

The entire room watched as his body was thrown through the doors to the second trauma room and was pinned against the wall as she entered.

"Get out!"

"You can't be in here!"

"This is a sterile environment!"

"Security get them out of here!"

"Leave!"

Hermione ignored the cacophony and stopped before her husband, "Look!" She pointed to the table, "You son of bitch. Look!" Her voice broke, "That's is my Father lying _there!_ And my mother…" She didn't flinch as she transfigured the wall between the rooms and flung him into the next room as yells mirroring the prior ones echoed around her and his body impacted into another wall. "Is there! They are fighting for their lives. And the only reason they are alive, along with me and the children is because of _her_! While you…" She arced her arm backwards and propelled him through the trauma doors, "were busy drinking down at the tavern instead of doing what you are not only paid to do, but sworn to do because you _are _their father!" His body skid to a stop in front of father. "She is the Headmistress of Hogwarts and has done nothing but protect you and the entire wizarding world at the cost of her own life!"

Helena stepped from the third trauma room to see the gaping expressions of the other healers from all the trauma rooms staring at the emotional scene. "Arthur, get your son off my ward! Healers you have patients in dire need, focus!" She went to turn back, but stopped at Harry's heartfelt words.

"Ron, you are being a daft fool; Minerva had nothing to do with your children being injured." He glanced to Hermione, "She saved your son tonight, at the expense of goodness knows what. Her hands, arms..." He swallowed, "they are worse than Dumbledore's hand before the end."

Slowly, the trauma doors closed and Seamus and George escorted Ron off the ward to the outer waiting area; as Harry joined Hermione, the children and Harold in trauma room six, along with Molly and Arthur who met their grandchildren with wide smiles, warm hugs and reassuring words as they waited for news regarding the rest of their loved ones.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_A/N: As always, hope you enjoyed! Best wishes and congratulations Bola!_


	84. Chapter 81 January 9th, 2010

**Chapter ****81 ~ ****January ****9****th****, ****2010 ****(Saturday)**

"You…know, you still snore." Minerva moaned as she turned onto her side, far too tired to think about getting up.

"And you…" Helena blinked into the night, hand reaching out to touch the light on her side table. "are still a cover thief."

However, despite not _wanting _to awaken; the events from last eve came roaring back to the forefront and she was immediately coherent. "What time is it?"

Helena narrowed her eyes at the clock before giving up and placing her glasses on, "Six ten."

"In the morning?" Minerva's voice holding a ring of disbelief as she went to sit up, feeling utterly dreadful. "Ohhh…"

Helena reached over, "Easy dear." She gently touched her shoulder, "You've had a rough night."

Confusion lined murky orbs, "I don't remember anything after…the gates." She lifted her gaze to meet her friend's blue eyes. "Perhaps images…and…" Her face fell as more tendrils of memories surfaced or rather moments of being held between stasis by Hogwarts.

She could remember words of comfort, from not only Hogwarts but her husband's whimsical voice telling her to hold on for just a little longer before their bond would pulse and death ebbed ever closer. "I pushed too far last night, breaching the patch or whatever Hogwarts did."

"Elgin came for me just before midnight; as he didn't think you'd reawaken."

Minerva didn't need to see Helena's face to know that the news was dire, her body, the lack of magic at her command told her far more than words had to. "I've lost most of what remained of my magic."

"You have less than five percent."

She had known it was bad, but less than five percent…meant she was as good as a muggle for the next goodness knew how long or until she happened across Johannes. "I'll need to speak with Filius." She winced as she shifted, "And everyone else? Did they all live? And how are the children?"

"The children had a few minor injuries that have been tended to."

Minerva reached out, knowing. "Helena, _who_ didna make it?" She could see the forlorn look in azure depths and felt her breath catch.

"Jean Granger, Hermione's mother won't make it. The damage from the stunners is far too extensive. It's amazing she even survived the initial attack, but her body is failing and she'll be dead by this time tomorrow."

"And Carl?"

"He remains critical, I don't know Minerva. He had significant skeletal damage and hemorrhaging. Ginerva is also in critical care, but she is stable. Though, she is going to be a patient at St. Mungos for some time; as we are having to reattach and grow parts of her lower spinal column. The curse cleaved half of it along with her liver, kidney, intestines, and abdominal wall. And Hermione," she permitted a gentle smile to cross her face. "while she had injures, they are not severe. Several cracked and bruised ribs, two broken ones, a bruised ligament in her hip and exhaustion mixed with the shock of what transpired."

"I need to go…" She went to flip the covers back, but Helena stopped her.

"No, you don't. Hermione has gone back to Harry's home, as have her children along with his own. They both are in desperate need of sleep; they just left St. Mungos a little over two hours ago."

"If you've been here, how do you…" She didn't finish asking the now obvious answer upon seeing several folded pieces of paper upon the far nightstand. "Elgin has been bringing you word."

"Harold has remained there so I could be here."

"Well…" Minerva pushed herself upright, leg catching. "I'll be fine. You can return to…St. Mungos."

"I thought," Helena's own back caught as she eased from the luscious bed, "you might want me here when your children arrived."

Minerva's white knuckled grip upon the doorway tightened, "What do they know?"

"That you assisted Hermione and are unwell."

"Unwell…?" Minerva merely shook her head, "If only that were the case."

"Minerva, you will no longer be able to hide how severely your magic depletion has become."

"It boils down to the simple truth, Helena. Perception."

"You can't believe that you'll be able to continue this charade?"

"No one, even you, let alone anyone else wants to believe that I am dying Helena. They don't _want_ to know how weak I am. They want to believe that I am still the same cavalier woman who can and will right all their wrongs. So, it isn't about deceiving them, it is about letting them believe what they chose to. Because, they'd rather believe that I will be as I always am; perhaps slightly slower, maybe not as swift, but I am still – Minerva McGonagall, and their mother. I shall tell them that I am unwell, that my magic has grown substantially weaker, but they do not comprehend the severity. And until the end; for the next several weeks, I shall have you or Poppy numb my hip and…" She swallowed the tears, "be what I need to be."

"And the Order?"

"Due to recent events, it stands to reason that I would not wish to partake in frivolous events like duels and challenges between the members as I have not been well since prior to the Holidays and the incident with Harry."

Helena came up beside her, "Let's get you a shower, and we'll talk over a cup of tea."

Minerva draped her arm over Helena's shoulder, "I may need to lay back down for a wee bit."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

It was a quiet morning at the Potter residence, the children easily detecting their respective mother and father's solemn mood and the ill news they had received the night before. Her mother's condition had been doubtful that she'd survive through the night and Ginny and her father's only moderately better.

Neither Harry or Hermione wanted to talk, but as they sipped their coffee in each other's presence, it was also apparent that neither one wanted to be alone either. They both wanted to get to St. Mungos this morning, however, to do so also required an equally heavy weight at seeing those they loved in pain. They were permitted entry into the trauma ward at seven and they'd send word and grant entry if it looked as though their loved ones wouldn't make it.

"How'd you sleep?" Harry finally ventured, voice still raw from the previous night.

"For about an hour, like the dead. And then the nightmares started. You?"

"The same." Harry murmured as he twirled his cup upon the table. "Molly said she'd watch the children today."

Hermione nodded, "I don't want to leave them for long and may just take them with me."

"They'll be fine. They don't blame you for what happened." Harry leaned forward, placing his hand atop hers. "No one does."

"That should have been me, not my mother." Tear laden eyes met watery olive ones, "And she'd be fine."

"You don't know that."

"Minerva would have saved her."

"She may not have been able to. From what Hugo said happened, it was pretty intense after you left with Jean; and she held onto Hugo as though he was a part of her. You even said so yourself last night, that was probably how she got them both out of there. When I arrived, there wasn't much left to your parents' house. And Minerva…" The inflection in his voice caught, "her arms, Merlin Hermione…I don't know what happened but they were the color of charcoal and she was so very weak lying in the snow before the gates. Which, I don't know why she went to Hogwarts gates versus St. Mungos; because she had been unconscious and if Hugo hadn't been with her, I doubt the elves would have known of her arrival. She would have died out there last night."

"Its second nature for her to travel to the gates of Hogwarts, she's been doing it for over fifty years; my guess is when she has to apparate without thought, she goes to Hogwart's gate." Hermione stared into her coffee, cadence barely audible as she began. "Her hands have been getting burnt with greater and greater regularity since the start of term." She swallowed, "Probably since before, but I doubt anyone save Helena or Rory knew."

"This wasn't merely burnt, but charred black."

"I know." Hermione whispered, finally lifting her gaze. "The first time I saw it was the night at the Simmon's home. I figured it was from the fire that was roaring at tip of her wand and edge of her fingers. Her hands were so black, and she had returned to just outside the gates. She was trying to push herself to them." Hermione tried to banish the awful image.

"Somehow, something happened and you learned she is to go to Hogwarts and not St. Mungos. Why?"

"A curse that replenishes her." Hermione's eyes flickered to the rising sun, "She will be just as healthy today as the dawn of yesterday when she awakens."

"There is no magic that could heal the damage I saw save for perhaps Phoenix tears."

"I have witnessed it countless times, Harry." She brought her gaze back to him, "She will have no marks or blemishes."

"How is that even possible?"

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know."

"Do you think that is what Harkiss is after?"

"No." Hermione relayed, "Because whatever she was cursed with, is also killing her."

"But if it heals her, how can it also be killing her?"

Hermione blinked back tears, "Merlin I wish I knew." She said as she wiped away the handful that had slid down her cheek as she stood, head shaking as she turned away. "She's…I just found out," She braced her hands in front of the sink and gazed out into Godric's Hollow and the soft morning sunrise that was so different than the peaceful one that blanketed the hills about Hogwarts. "She'll be dead within the year."

Harry hadn't thought he heard her correctly, but the bow of her shoulders and slump of her head told him that indeed he had. He reached up under his glasses, wiping away his own tears before pushing his chair slightly back and coming up behind her. "Hey…we'll figure something out." He whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She turned into his embrace, "Ron and I…dear Merlin, we are barely cordial. I almost lost the kids, you, Ginny and Minerva. She's going to be dead within the year and…mom, dad…" She gasped, head shaking against his shoulder. "What if Rose or Hugo had died?"

"They didn't."

Brown eyes drilled into his, "But what if they had?"

"I'd do what you would do for me if I lost one of my children; I'd grieve for them, help you bury them and then avenge them while protecting what remained of our families."

She pulled back, brows furloughing. "What type of answer is that?"

"The truth," He breathed, "because as darkness rises, you are like me." He brushed a lock of hair away, "You ride out and meet it, head on." His eyes sparkled, "And it's dangerous for not only you, but all those you hold dear; but to be anyone other than you are," a tear slipped down his cheek, "kills my sister. Just like it would kill me."

She kissed his cheek and pulled him close, "I love you Harry."

"And I you Hermione."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hesitantly, Hermione stepped into her mother's room; tears blurring her vision as she gazed upon the still, ashen woman. "Mom, it's…" She forced herself to walk forward, "Hermione."

There was nothing more that could be done except make the last few hours for her comfortable. She was a muggle, and the healers had been surprised she had survived as long as she had from the attack – all previous muggles struck by more than one stunner had died before ever receiving treatment.

"I was told…you must be a descendant from a wizarding family." She said, gently taking her mother's stiff fingers. "That's why you are still alive." She whispered while sitting next to her and gazing lovingly into far too still features.

"God, mom. I'm soo sorry." She brokenly rasped. "I should be where you are." Tears began pouring down her eyes, "Why'd you do it?"

"Why?" She partially asked and then pleaded, "Why…?" Bloodshot eyes stared up at her mother as her right hand gripped the sheet and her head bowed. Soft sobs racked her body as she gave over to grief.

* * *

oxox

* * *

With a shaky hand, Minerva adorned her outer cloak. "You needn't go, love."

"She's going to lose her mother Albus." Minerva tiredly stated, feeling as though she were putting on an additional fifteen kilos.

"And I'm sure you'll be here for her when she returns to Hogwarts." He quipped.

Her voice brokered no room for argument, exhaustion lacing her cadence but it was evident that steel lay beneath. "Please dear, not today."

"Minerva, please don't leave, you are exhausted and barely have the strength to stand." His gentle voice ringing in her ears. "And I haven't the reserves to give you either."

"I know." She whispered, "But I _need_ to go Albus."

Blue eyes closed and his jaw tightened, before he slowly nodded. "Then ask Elgin to transport you and wait at St. Mungos to transport you back."

"I'll use the floo."

"How much energy and magic will it take to banish the soot?"

She sighed, "Too much today. Very well." She muttered resignedly, "Elgin." She called out as she wearily gripped her walking stick, thankful that Helena had injected the numbing potion into her hip. Even if her range of motion and mobility was slightly more limited, as she barely had the energy to move without much pain.

"Mistress?" He questioned as he appeared next to her.

"Elgin," Albus clearly stated drawing his loyal elf's attention, "Minerva's not well and will be needing you and Bonnie to transport her."

"Where is you'se be needing to go this morning?" Elgin asked as he gazed up at her.

"St. Mungos." She dithered and finally elaborated, knowing that today she was not up to pushing herself. "Trauma ward."

Elgin reached out, "Readys?"

And with a nod, Minerva felt his magic sweep over her and her rooms vanished in a blink, and the next one she was standing just inside one of the trauma ward's rooms. Instinctively, she took a deep breath, smelling the antiseptic and hint of nutmag buried beneath the dozens of other scents including the distinct mix of almond, vanilla and a dash of oatmeal that still blanketed the air.

With a slow measured gate, she strode forward instead of through the exit as she had originally planned gaze fixed upon the stone features of Jean Granger. Helena had said that it was doubtful, but there could be a few moments of conscious thought and even interaction before the spell would take hold again.

From the overwhelming scent, she knew that Hermione had only just left; perhaps ten minutes prior if not less.

"I know…" Minerva stopped beside the bed, "how hard it is." Her hand reached out and she gently touched the frozen appendage. "To _want _to move, be able to interact, tell those you care for how much you love them." She leaned her walking cane against the chair and sat next to the elder Granger, never breaking her eye contact. "To feel how slow time moves, the pain of your joints, the ever burning desire to want and need to breathe…" She sighed, "I know because I was where you now are, and can tell you that the healers told me the same thing that they told you. That I would nah survive, and there were times when I didna think I would. But I did." She tipped her head to the side, a slight smile forming on her lips.

"I must say…" Minerva leaned back, "that you and Carl handled having a witch for a daughter rather well. In my time at Hogwarts and meetings with various muggle born witches and wizards, you were the most supportive parents I have encountered. And upon reflection in conjunction with Helena's statement to me regarding your fortitude, I'd venture that you have a witch or wizard on one side of your family."

Minerva could see an incremental eye movement, barely perceptible save for the flicker of dilation in her pupil that didn't go unnoticed by keen emerald eyes. "Not your parents or siblings, but a grandparent perhaps?"

Another slight shift took place and Minerva nodded. "I see you Jean." She whispered, "You need to remain calm or you'll nah be able to even do that." She could see the slight tension begin to relax. "Witch...ahhh, a wizard then. And am I ta guess that Hermione doesn't know much about him?"

Minerva nodded at seeing the answer, "We do like our secrets." She shook her head, "Not you, dear, rather the wizarding community. Which…" A reflective gaze shimmered across emerald orbs, as she came to a decision.

For the next hour, she regaled Jean with stories about her daughter from her time at Hogwarts. Stories that no child would dream of telling their mother, and stories that Hermione was assured that none knew save for Harry or Ronald; but stories that the previous Headmaster and she had been privy too thanks to the network of portraits and house elves. Stories of how proficient Hermione was in transfiguration, how her colleagues had boasted about Hermione's natural inclination and abilities, the way she had stammered in Ronald's presence, how Minerva had once believed it would be Hermione and Harry to marry, how she had punched Draco, stolen stores from Severus to brew an advance potion…and the hour wore on until the door opened and in stepped a very surprised Hermione.

"…and if I'm not mistaken, she still likes catnip." Minerva could almost see the mirth twinkling in the glassy depths. "Hermione has come, and I myself am in need of rest." Minerva leaned closer, voice barely touching the other woman's face as she whispered. "Do not fear what lies ahead, nor sorrow for what you leave behind. You have a strong daughter who will live for many years to come and…" Her brogue becoming thicker as she continued on, "one day find love again. And grandchildren who are as intelligent as their mother, and one will day pave a blazing trail through our world. Be at peace, Jean."

Minerva felt a faint pressure against her fingers, and she fought for a smile through the tears. "I shall see you soon, my friend." She leaned over and gently kissed her forehead before straightening upright and finally meeting the younger woman's still befuddled gaze. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

"How'd…" Her eyes darted to her mother and back, "they said no one was to be in here. Not that I mind, it's just; the healer said I could only be in here for an hour and then had to let her rest for an hour. And…"

"She knows she's dying, Hermione." Minerva quietly stated, "There is little the healers can do to invert the spells before her body shuts down." Her tone becoming tender, "I have been where she now lies," she held her hand out, beaconing Hermione closer. "Do not listen to the healers; they know not what they speak of. As she can feel the way her body begins to starve for oxygen, the dying need to breath, the way time seems to have stalled for her alone as she is only able to barely move a microexpression over minutes despite pushing with every fiber of her being to let the people she loves know that she is listening, that she hears what they are saying and she wants nothing more than to tell _you_ one last time that she loves you." Hermione came to stand beside Minerva, "Do not leave her Hermione." Minerva gazed up at Jean, "She needs you as much as you need her."

"Are you sure…?" Hermione's question died off, unwilling to ask.

But Minerva knew the question. It was one her family had once wondered aloud over her stunned body fourteen years ago. "She _can_ hear you, my dear." Minerva gently answered, laying her hand upon Hermione's shoulder. "And on occasion she has been able to incrementally move her eyes to the left, when she has agreed with what I have been saying."

Minerva could see a flash of hope spark in exhausted brown eyes, "Have you been here long?"

"For a time." Minerva responded as Hermione gazed at her mother.

"I…how can she bare to listen to me, as it is all my fault that she is here and…dying."

"She does not believe so, nor should you spend your time over such foolishness, Hermione. She loves you. And I'm sure would prefer – " Her voice broke at how soon she'd be in similar predicament, "to spend it reminiscing of life, good memories, and stories of the children."

Haunted eyes lifted to meet exhausted ones, "Thank you." She whispered, swirls of emotion burning in her depths as she finished. "For today…for everything, Minerva."

Minerva squeezed her shoulder and let a faint smile cross her lips, "Make the most of what time there is." She let her eyes remain on Hermione's for a second more and pushed her body forward, boots clicking in time with her walking cane as she made her way to the door.

"Minerva," Hermione called out as Minerva's fingers touched the handle, and at hearing her name looked back of her shoulder to meet teary eyes and a grateful smile.

With a curt nod, she swept from the room and into the main area; tightening her jaw at the pungent odor of blood mixed with decaying flesh and antiseptic. It was a potent reminder as to why she'd never be able to work in a hospital or triage area for any lengthy period of time. Steeling her stomach, she gazed about the area; reading the short-hand glyphs on the doorways.

While she wasn't a healer, she thought ruefully as she entered into the second trauma ward, it didn't mean she couldn't navigate the wards. Although, it did help immensely that the glyphs used on the trauma ward; were the codes that she and Harold cracked from the mess with Gellert.

Pushing the door open, a pair of healers turned and it was evident that the taller one was about to comment regarding her being here; when she noticed his familiar lines and rich cadence. "It is good to see you up and about, Headmistress." Michael sincerely stated stepping from his patient, "But I'm afraid this room is restricted to family only."

"Carl," Minerva strode closer, "it is Minerva and I was hoping to speak with you for a moment."

"Minerva, he's barely conscious and I cannot…"

"What…?" Carl wheezed.

"Don't talk, Mr. Granger." Michael's face pursed as he turned back, "Edna, if you would ask security…"

Minerva snapped her wand and almost stumbled from the effort, as two stunning spells struck either side of his bed. She paused for a moment, breaths bordering on labored as she refocused upon her destination and moving even slower, finished walking to the edge of the bed. "Have they spoken to you about what happened?"

Muted eyes blinked as they tried to focus, "Hermione…alright. Jean…too…as are…" He licked his lips, "the child…ren."

"Carl, you have significant…"

The door opened and emerald eyes instantly snapped to the door to see Helena stride through, eyes instantly darkening. "What in Merlin's beard are you doing here? You assured me you'd rest till this afternoon. And why are two of my staff stunned?" She clipped forward immediately releasing Edna and Michael who at once jumped back from the table surprised by Minerva's sudden appearance beside them as Helena cast a silencing spell over the small group.

"Have security escort the Headmistress…" Michael went to say again, but found the end of his sentence nullified as Helena spoke.

"I'll handle this, if you'd both be kind enough to give me the room."

"But…Mr. Granger…"

Helena's blond brow quirked, "I believe, Edna that I am still capable enough to ensure Mr. Granger's well being. Don't you?"

"ahhhh…I meant no offense." The younger healer stammered, but Helena merely kept her gaze fixed upon what could only be construed as the ashen features of her friend.

"Michael if you would prepare another blood infusion for Mrs. Potter, I'll be along shortly."

Michael nodded and steered Edna from the room, "We're done until the next check-up at eleven."

"That's almost an hour, he'll…" The last of Edna's words were nullified by the closing door.

"I thought you were remaining in bed and waiting for your children." Helena's voice was unusually warm, "Why are you here?" Her eyes raked over Minerva's robes. "And how did you get here? No soot, you were able to cast a spell and while appearing quite fatigued…" She glanced around, and then called out. "Elgin, you little devil, she needs to rest. Not be here when she herself can barely stand."

At once he appeared, "The Master asked…"

"I don't care _what_ the confounded man asked, she needs to return back to Hogwarts before she passes out from exhaustion. Do I make myself clear?"

Golden eyes passed from his Mistress to Blondie's and then back. "Mistress…?" He tentatively asked.

"Elgin, she…"

"I asked him to bring me here because of Jean, love." Minerva openly shared. "And to offer a bit of support to Hermione." Her eyes flickered to Carl who was staring at her, obviously trying to 'see' something as their words had been silenced. "And I came to see if Carl would like to say good-bye to his wife, as she will not be of this world much longer, Helena. It's been over sixteen hours."

"You were able to last the twenty-eight until the full effects of the stunner…"

"If I hadn't been bound, I would have died well before then as you well know." She quietly continued on, "He deserves to see her."

"I don't know if his body can take any more stress, let alone the shock."

"She won't live."

"And if he goes to see her, he may not either."

"If that was you," she pointed to the broken shell that was left of Hermione's father, "and Harold was going to die…" Minerva narrowed her eyes, "or rather Jordan, you are telling me that you wouldn't risk your own life to see her one last time?" She could see the doubt forming behind azure eyes, "Give them, and Hermione a final moment of peace. Please," Minerva reached up, touching Helena's upper arm, "do it for me. For you. Phillip." Tears formed along the edge of emerald eyes, "Derrick. Harold. Albus. And for every friend that we have lost and has never been afforded the opportunity."

"Damn you Minerva," Helena wiped the tears from her left eye as she swallowed, "Go home."

"Helena…"

Conviction laced her features, "I'll speak with him, and you…" she reached up and steered her away from Carl's bed. "Are going back to Hogwarts and don't even think of testing me on this. You are whiter than the marble in the lobby, exhausted both magically and physically. I know why you are here, but this time, this fight isn't yours nor can you take the burden or even help. You are far too weak, and will be where the Grangers are all too soon as it is. Please, Minerva…go home." Tears brimmed along the edge of her lashes. "And rest."

Minerva knew she had overextended her time, and without a word nodded. "Elgin." He extended his fingers outward, "If you'd be so kind as to return me to Hogwarts."

Helena watched as they blinked away, staring after her dearest friend for several long minutes before slowly bringing herself back to the present and the very arduous task of relaying the truth to Carl Granger regarding his wife, Jean.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Define significant life change." Tessa directed to Helena, eyes though remaining upon her mother.

"I have to alter my life, dear." Minerva answered, saving Helena from having to. "I'm having all my clothes re-tailored…"

Percival frowned, "Mother, that will cost a fortune, can you afford to do that? Can't you merely have your old robes re-fashioned?"

"It would cost just as much to pull the charms from them, and standard zippers and buttons along the seams. I also won't be able to transfigure into my animagus form, things of that nature."

"What of remaining at Hogwarts?" A spark flashed across her daughter's eyes. "Are you resigning?"

Minerva inwardly steeled herself as she responded, "No. I haven't need to as of yet."

"Then the significant life change is so what, you can remain at Hogwarts? Is that it?"

"While being at Hogwarts does make me tired, it does not and has not affected my magical stores."

"Unbelievable." Tessa muttered turning to her brother, "Please tell me you do not agree with her."

"I…" He met his wife's reassuring eyes and then his sister's stormy features. "It isn't about agreeing but rather about supporting, Tessa. And she's been at Hogwarts since I was three, it's a part of this family; and if mother would rather spend her last days there and she can; why does it matter?"

Rory turned to Minerva after Helena had told him that it was not her answer to give, "How long, luv?"

The side conversations went mute as just over a half dozen eyes turned to her, and she slowly meet everyone one of her family's heartfelt gaze before finally resting on Helena's. "Barring anything else, best case is through the end of the school year; the first part of June." _If __I __were __to __retire __immediately __from __Hogwarts __and __not __practice __any __more __magic __for __the __rest __of __what __remained of __my __life, _Minerva silently added as everyone absorbed the news.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione was one of the most renowned witches in the world, one of the golden trio, and friends with the esteemed Harry Potter, colleague of Minerva McGonagall, acquaintance of Helena Harrison and it hadn't mattered. There had been no sudden spark before death, no last minute magical breath-through, no miracle to save her.

Her mother had still died.

And there had been nothing she or anyone else had been able to do to prevent it, though everyone of the aforementioned had tried.

She couldn't feel the tears as they slipped unbidden from her cheeks, as the healer slowly drew the sheet over her mother's body and subsequent face.

Merlin, knew she had tried…

"I'll give you a moment, Ma'am." The healer's words registering on some level, not noticing whether or not he left; her eyes remaining fixed upon the sheet.

She would need more than a moment to compose herself. To grapple with an all too new and real reality that had been carved through her life. Since Voldemort's fall, she had never pictured a time in the near or semi-distant future where she didn't have her mom. That her parents wouldn't be a part of her life or her children's.

Her children.

The tears fell, if at all possible, harder.

She had to tell Rose and Hugo that their Grandmother, her mother, was dead.

With an shaky hand, she drew the edge of the sheet back, the slack ashen face that had always been lively and full of color remained motionless…

She had already said good-bye to her mom, and that wasn't the shell remaining here.

Her mother, Jean Granger, was gone.

"God, mom, I miss you already." She brokenly stated to no one as she drew the sheet back over her mother's remains as she thought of her father, and felt a weight settle even heavier in her heart.

She had promised him she'd tell him, as he had had to leave about two hours ago; his body couldn't physically support him any longer as he had to return to his room with significant aid but not before a heartbreaking good-bye had been given.

Casting one last look upon her mother's covered body, she left to speak with her father and then find the words to speak with her children.

She didn't know what she was going to say.

She pushed through the door, heads popping up in the hallway; her eyes landing upon Harry's and with a subtle shake of her head she turned and entered her father's room.

Her father's head tipping upwards to see who had entered, and their gazes locked. She could see the instant understanding sweep over his face, and she was forced to watch as her father's heart broke in front of her. The tears welling in his eyes, pain in his soul…and she felt a pair of arms support her from behind; guiding her to her father while supporting her too.

Harry had entered too.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: __Hope __you __enjoyed it __between __the __tears __-_


	85. Chapter 82 January 10th, 2010

**Chapter 82 ~ January 10****th****, 2010 (Sunday)**

"Ahhhhhhhhhh….." Molly jerked awake, Arthur too as another gut wrenching scream was unleashed from the children's bedroom.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh….."

They grabbed their wands, "Hugo." Molly said flinging open the door, and rushing towards the chilling scream, steps groaning as Molly and Arthur flew up the steps bursting into the room.

"Ahhhhhh…"

Eyes and wands scanning, and almost without thought, Molly had already pocketed her wand and was kneeling next to the bed, hand reaching out. "You're safe, Hugo."

As soon as her fingers touched his arm, blue eyes jerked open; pupils dilated to try and see _who_ was next to him as he innately pulled away still held in the grip of the nightmare.

"It's Gran."

Blue eyes blinked, recognition sparking.

"You're safe." Arthur repeated, lighting a candle within the room; enabling slightly more light.

He turned his ginger head to see his grandfather and then back to his grandmother, tears welling into his eyes as his arms jutted out and grasped her around her neck. "Aunt Merva didn't get out." He murmured against her skin. "She's hurt."

Molly tenderly stroked his back, "She was injured, but she is better." Molly kissed his temple glancing to Arthur.

Hugo shook his head, "No, she was hurt like Meema." His tiny voice breaking, "Her armses was black and…she's…" large droplets spilled down his cheeks. "she's not coming back."

"I spoke with Minerva yesterday, Hugo. She is doing well." Arthur relayed as he knelt beside his wife and grandson. "You just had a nightmare."

Teary blue eyes met those of his grandfather, "It was so much like befores…"

"Nightmares usually are." Arthur whispered.

"Can I sees…Aunt Merva?" He timidly asked, as he drew his sleeve over his face to dry his tears.

"No, honey, it's still really early in the morning." Molly stated, "But we'll call as soon as its light out."

"But she's okay? Likes you and mommy?"

"Yes, she's alright." Molly replied and Hugo glanced over to Arthur who nodded in agreement.

"I stays with you till suns up?"

Molly could tell from the way he was relaxing against her shoulder and body, he was beginning to relax. "Absolutely." She said as Arthur helped her stand.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Elgin appeared as Minerva stepped into her living room, hair drawn up in a towel and body wrapped in a robe. "The morning report and two other messages."

Minerva reached out, and took the folded pieces of parchment along with her glasses. "Thank you, Elgin." She flipped open the arms and put them on. She glanced over the rims, "Would you please bring up some coffee and a bit of Danish?"

"Of course." He stated and was gone as she opened the first note.

_Minerva,_

_ When you are up and able, would you fire call this morning? Hugo had a nightmare last eve and does not believe you are well._

_ Molly_

At once, her eyes lifted to the clock, it was just after 5. She'd call after 7, enabling her time to dry her hair, dress and get ready for the day; hopefully that would be ample time. This morning was a trial run on how long it would take for her to get ready, as yesterday she was still moving incredibly slow and it had taken the better part of two hours. And she loathed to think it would take that long, even half that time was still far too long for things that had previously taken 10 minutes at the longest with a hint of magic.

Banishing her morose thoughts, she opened the second note.

_Minerva,_

_ Jean passed away at 10:53pm. Carl remains extremely critical but stable. Ginerva is critical but stable. Hermione remained at St. Mungos for the evening with her father. She did speak with her children, along with Harry and the others regarding her mother's death._

_ Forgive me for not sending this note till the morning, but you needed your rest as well. _

_ Helena_

It was halfway through the summoning spell that Minerva realized what she was doing, and stopped. At some juncture within the last several minutes, Elgin had brought her a breakfast tray; tea already poured which she had been in the process of summoning. A luxury she could no longer afford.

She took her teacup and saucer, and strode where she had intended – the window overlooking the grounds in her room.

The night sky was still black, the stars illuminating the snow covered hills and grounds about Hogwarts as a slight reflection could be seen of herself. Never in all the years and days before this one, had she felt so…

Old.

Tired.

Downtrodden.

And she was. She was physically, emotionally, mentally…

"You are beautiful this morning." Albus' quiet voice, a calming balm to the stormy seas of her musings.

"You mustn't have your glasses on this morning, love." She pulled her gaze from her reflection and back to the sanctity of the grounds of Hogwarts.

"I do, but even if I didn't, you'd remain that which you are and always will be."

"Flatterer." She quietly rebuked as she thought of Helena's note and Molly's. Both troublesome in their own way, and she, herself, would not be able to do much to help moving forward. "I feel useless, as if I am becoming a relic, Albus."

"You are far from either of those things, Minerva. While a most proficient witch, my dear, your intellect and strategic abilities are unparalleled."

"I can't even summon a cup without feeling the drain, Albus." She finally turned to his portrait.

"Your magic is hampered, but your mind is not, love."

"But, how can I live like this? I've always been a witch…"

"And you always will be." He gently replied, "You know as well as I, this will be a transitory – albeit uncomfortable and painful, experience."

"A part of me doesn't _want _to stop using it." She reached up and pulled the towel from her head, long wet locks falling along her back. "I want to let myself be selfish, just this once, and live out the last few weeks as I've always lived. And not worry about the wizarding world, the children, the Order…"

"You know as well as I, that is not true."

Teary emerald eyes met serene blue ones, "Ohh, Albus I wish that it wasn't, but Merlin I am so tired of putting others first. I just…want to let it be, just this once. I don't want to expend the last of my magic killing Johannes."

He inwardly sighed, knowing that his wife needed to air her inner most desires; but also knowing that she'd do that which she didn't wish to because of what it meant for their children. "I know, but I also know that you will not be able to live with yourself if you don't."

"How I wish I could." She sighed and took a step and touched the light beside her bed, bathing her chamber in a soft glow. "Perhaps in our next life..." she finally opened Elgin's report, holding it to the light, "we can lead a far simpler one."

"I look forward to the day."

Her shoulders sagged, "As do I."

He could feel the resignation, "Minerva?"

She glanced up, "The heater froze last night in Greenhouse 2. The elves have been casting warming charms since five when they noticed it, but there will still be significant plant loss."

He now understood her feelings, as previously, she'd have repaired or transformed the replacement part. She could no longer do that, and there was no one upon the grounds who could. Her lack of magical abilities would affect not only her, but Hogwarts and the fiscal budget as well. One which they were already underwriting. "Perhaps Kane is available this afternoon."

"He is in Egypt and shan't return for a month baring an emergency." She finished scanning the note and folded it once done, "I'll have Tily seek a supplier."

"Remember, this is transitory, love."

"As transitory as it may be, Albus, I still have to live through it." She could feel his question as to why she was leaving, "I can no longer dry my hair, and have to use muggle means."

"Why not simply let it air dry?"

"I need to contact Molly shortly," she called over her shoulder, "Hugo is having nightmares and not sleeping."

Albus curtailed his feelings or thoughts regarding the subject, knowing of his wife's affection for the children and what she had done to save the young boy. It was no wonder he was having nightmares, it was a miracle he was sleeping after having born witness to what he had. However, he was curious as to why Molly had asked Minerva to contact them. Had Hugo asked for her?

His own thoughts momentarily stilled at that notion, because if young Hugo had…his own belief regarding how close the young boy was to Minerva was off the mark and he couldn't help but wonder how Hugo viewed Minerva. "And Hermione's parents, how are they faring?"

Minerva had felt Albus' turbulent emotions course across their bond, undoubtedly relating to Hugo and his mother. "Jean passed last night, Carl remains in critical care."

"And…Hermione?"

It was times like this that reminded her why she fell in love with him, because despite his feelings on the matter, he knew what Hermione had come to mean to her. "She remained with Carl last eve." She reached up and pulled her glasses off, "Thank you, dear."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hugo glanced back over his shoulder, his grandparents both having fallen asleep and neither one moving despite the door creaking open as he opened it. He ran over to the stairwell, grabbed the banister and quickly made his way down the winding staircase to the first floor.

It was barely light, but it was light.

And he was allowed to call his máthair and make sure she was alright.

He bumped into the chair and knocked it and himself over, but almost instantly he scrambled upright as he made his way to the fireplace and red smoldering coals. He tipped his head back, scanning the mantle and eyes fixating upon the small metal canister adhered to the corner. He had found what he was looking for.

Turning back around, he grabbed the closest chair and pushed it across the floor; pausing every so often to see if he was there and then restarting with a grunt. When the chair's back finally reached the edge of the mantle, he stopped and gripped the edge of the cushion, pulling his chest onto the fabric and then into a kneeling position, before grabbing the back of the chair and steadying himself, stood up. However, even after standing on his toes, his hand couldn't reach into the container.

Undeterred, he turned around and jumped off, running over the bookshelf and pulled a thick one off. He drug it across the floor and with effort pushed it onto the cushion. He stepped back to look at the chair with the book on it, and went back to the bookshelf, grabbed another one and repeated the process.

He went to pull himself up onto the chair but realized the books were in his way, and pushed another chair by the first one. He moved the cushions so they were by the other, and he jumped and scrambled onto the empty one, hefting himself up. He balanced himself, using the chair's back and stood, and then carefully stepped on the edge of the chair with the books. He reached over and grabbed the back, and took a big step to bring himself a top the books; teetering and grabbing the back with both hands until he balanced himself again. Carefully, he let go and stood, fingers stretching out and over the lip of the container. A grin passing across his face as he touched the chalky substance.

He scooped up a handful and when he pulled his hand out, paused as he looked around not knowing how he'd get the powder down as he needed both hands.

He glanced around and then back to the canister and returned the powder into it. Tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, face set in a picture of concentration, he pushed the canister out of it metal holder; almost dropping it twice before he had managed to bring the canister back to him. The books were now offset, and far less steady as he gripped the back of the chair and tried sitting down while holding his prize; but a book thudded to the floor causing him to clutch at the chair even tighter and catch himself. A bit of powder spilled onto the floor as he scrambled, the other book following the path of the first one; and then the chair was tipping and Hugo still kept hold of the container as he jumped clear.

The books muffled the chair's fall and the rug bore the brunt of Hugo's as he landed and then fell backwards – a cloud of powder billowing outward over the room and covering him and the furnishings in a layer of green.

With a cough, and a shake of his head Hugo sat up; wiping his eyes and instantly peering into the container he had tipped upright with him sitting up.

There was still some in the bottom.

He toted the canister forward to the edge of the fire, and reached in grabbing a large handful, powder spilling outward from his tiny fingers as he brought up his hand. He threw the powder toward the coals, "ogwarts."

A spark flashed and then vanished, with a frown he withdrew another handful of powder and threw it farther into the fireplace; and with brows furloughed in concentration he repeated his word, making sure to say it as Rosie and mom. "Hogwarts."

At once a green flame burst forth and without a backwards glance, he stepped forward.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"You want to talk about it?" George asked as he sat opposite of his lover. Rory had been withdrawn since the incident the night before last, but even more so since returning from his errand last eve.

Slowly grey eyes lifted up to meet his, "I'm afraid, love, I canna or I would."

"Does this have to do with the Order, because if so…"

"No, George, it doesna." He leaned back, "It has ta do with Minerva and past that, please do nah ask."

"Harry said her arms and hands were burnt black the other night, from your sullen mood and his commentary, I take it she is not well."

"She hasna been well for years." Rory admitted and with a shake of his head, he pushed aside the troubling news Minerva had shared last eve. "And no more." He nodded to his young lover, "How is Ginny doin'?"

George reached across the table, "She'll be alright." George answered, scanning Rory's features as he took his hand. "But McG…" he returned to the previous and at this juncture far more important topic, from the obvious weight burdening Rory, "she isn't, is she?" George held on tighter as Rory went to remove his hand, "How bad is she, Rory?"

The elder wizard bowed his head, jaw clenching as his eyes closed, "Please George, do nah ask me."

A cold shiver traveled down George's spine, "Rory, is she dying?"

He recalled the conversation Minerva had shared with Arthur and found himself nodding, "Aye, love." Tear filled eyes finally met his lovers.

Blue eyes blanched, "How…does she know how long?" George finally asked breathlessly.

"Perhaps a year," Rory could feel the tears running off his cheeks, as he curtailed the depth of the lie, "probably less."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva heard a ruckus erupt in her office, and at once she grabbed her wand – her outer robe hanging open and revealing the soft sage green of her inner room as she swept into her living area and to the banister, eyes immediately adjusting to the softer light while she separated out the cacophony of conversation that had erupted between the portraits.

"What are you doing here?"

"How did you access this office?"

"Aren't you supervised?"

"Clever boy."

"Rather ingenious, for a boy his age."

And she saw the mess of ginger hair standing behind her desk, staring up at the vast walls of portraits. She inwardly pulled upon Hogwarts and at once, her office became lit and all the portraits turned to her, the young boy's head following their lead and instantly a smile breaking across his young features at seeing her.

"Máthair…" he breathed and darted to the back of the office, bounding up the steps and launching himself forward as he crested the top and into her arms. "You'se is alright." He breathed out as his arms came around her neck and she brought him to her, a cloud of floo powder and soot blanketing Minerva too.

"Yes, my little lad, I am." She crinkled her nose at the sheer amount of dust landing atop her and in the air. "And you are well?"

"Yup," he snuggled deeper into her embrace, "got a bit of stuff on me at Granma Weasey's," he moved a little to indicate his knee, "and bumped my knee bone but I is okay."

She leaned back, peering at him. "I believe you were supposed to wait on a call from me this morning."

His eyes immediately dropped as his fingers began playing with the edge of her robes, "Well, not exactwee. Gran said I could called when the suns cames up."

Minerva's eyes darted to the windows and the barest of hint of light emerging from the darkness. "Has the sun risen?"

"Well, not exactwee…" his face twisted as he thought of an answer, and Minerva had a hard time keeping a stern one affixed upon hers, "but its rays has."

"And did you happen to tell either of your grandparents that you were calling?"

He shrugged and then shook his head, "Nope. They was sleepin'."

"One last question lad," he nodded, "how did you get floo powder all over you?"

"Well, I went to get it, but it was rweally tall away, up on the mant…"

"Mantle."

"Yeah, that."

"Please repeat it, Hugo. Mantle."

"Mandle." Hugo said and Minerva nodded, knowing that t's were hard for young children, she'd work on that later. "And I wasn't talled that much yet. So I pushed a chair to it, but I still wasn't talled to reach it. So I took some of Gran's books and put them on the chaired and gots up on it. Then I gots the containered and well…I don't know how but it all felled and the gween foo stuff went everywhere."

"I see." Minerva said and Hugo's grin only got bigger as he leaned in and hugged her again.

"I had bad dweams Aunt Merva, rweally bad and I didn't like 'em."

"How about, we get cleaned up and write Molly and Arthur a note telling them where you are and then we'll talk about these bad dreams."

Hugo shook his head against her cheek, "uh-huh, máthair," he whispered in a half tear stained voice, "'cause you can'ts go away like meema."

"I'm right here, Hugo." She reassured, "I'm right here."

"I knows," he murmured against her skin, "you'se always keeps you'se is promises."

"I try." Minerva inwardly turned down the lights to her office as she turned back to the heart of her rooms, "Elgin."

He appeared beside her, "Mistress?" a frown instantly drawing upon his face at seeing the young boy ensconced within her arms.

"Could you remove the soot and floo powder from us, please?"

Elgin knew that the Mistress was not well, and knew that he'd be asked to do a great many things out of the ordinary, and merely nodded, snapped his fingers and cast one final look at the boy and vanished to the kitchens to retrieve some food for the young boy too.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Rose stepped into the den, "Hugo?" She edged further in, the coals barely red but green floo powder was everywhere; blanketing the table, chairs, even the upended ones, the books pulled from her Grandma's bookcase, and the rug. She could see distinct footprints heading towards the fireplace, ones that were smaller than her own.

"What did you do?" she asked kneeling and picking up the floo canister, and seeing that it was almost empty.

Her eyes snapped to the fire, the canister, back, and then to the partial footprint before it vanished into the fireplace.

She thought of where her brother would go, as her cousins were here at the Burrow with she and Hugo, so he wouldn't go see Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny was still at the hospital, and their mom was there to unless she had returned to Hogwarts.

Hogwarts…

Her hand immediately sunk into the last of the floo powder, her brother had gone to Hogwarts and to see either their mom or Aunt.

She flung the powder into the fire, "Hogwarts."

It flashed green, and with a step she was gone.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Elgin would you please deliver this letter to the Burrow, and before going there, close my floo to all but Helena."

Elgin took the proffered letter and with a final glance apparated away.

"Is that so our cousins can't come too?" Rose asked as she took another sip of juice.

"No, so I can take a nap with the two of you."

"But I just got ups." Rose said with a hint of indignance.

Hugo yawned, "I'm not tireds."

"Then we'll read for a bit and then see if Milksy can watch you both for an hour while I run an errand."

Rose and Hugo both immediately perked up at the idea, "What are we going to read?"

"The Hero's?"

"No comics I'm afraid," Minerva set her cup down, "perhaps the Beetle Bards."

"Ohhh, I like that ones." Hugo grabbed his napkin and wiped his mouth, moving towards her bedroom. "We'se going to be in heres?"

"Go ahead, Hugo. We'll be joining you momentarily." She turned to Rose, "Finish your toast, darling. I have a note to send and then I'll be in."

Rose nodded and Minerva went into her smaller study, "Tily."

"Mistress?" she asked appearing beside her.

"Would you mind asking Bonnie to join me?"

"At once."

Minerva sat, knowing it would be barely seconds before the Matron of the elves would be joining her; her eyes tiredly going to morning twilight.

"Mistress?"

"Ahh, how are you Bonnie?" Minerva inquired as she turned to her stout friend.

"Curious as to why I am here, but otherwise, well. Yourself? You gave us quite the scare the night before last."

"Still a bit piqued."

"Understandable." Bonnie commented, "What may I assist you with?"

"Three items. The first, the blue stuffed rabbit that was a present for the young lad, Hugo has need for his to be replaced."

"There is one at the Ridge that was to be for Percival's unborn child in four years if it was to be a boy."

"Please bring that one." At Bonnie's expression, she elaborated, "I will ask Kane to modify one more for me, as I cannot."

"The second?"

"The white plush mushroom."

Bonnie negated a similar commentary to the rabbit, as the mushroom was for Percival's child if it was to be a girl. There had been a similar spell to that of the rabbit, she was sure that Minerva would have Kane repeat it. If that was possible. If it wasn't, it was her Mistress' choice. One she did not entirely understand, but then, she didn't understand how these children had become so close to the Mistress. Other than they obviously had, "And the last one?"

"Inquire if Pierre can come this week."

Bonnie didn't know which request shocked her more, "Uhhh, to Hogwarts?"

Minerva paused and then shook her head, "To the Manor, I cannot bare the numbing effect upon my hip nor the pain without it; so I shall see if his hands can stay both and contingent upon how I feel, may have need for his services on a regular basis for the interim."

"I'm sure he can make arrangements." Bonnie relayed, "I'll speak with him momentarily."

"Thank you my friend."

Bonnie winked away and Minerva could hear Rose traipse across the floor and into her bedroom; and she reached over and pulled the worn leather book from her shelf. It had been in her family for generations, and would continue to be…

"Here's…" Bonnie extended out her hand, giving Minerva the items from the Ridge. "I will send a note with Pierre's answer."

Minerva gripped the edge of the desk and stood, ignoring the prickly feeling in her hip as she made her way to her bedroom. Both Rose and Hugo were already snuggled under the covers, Hugo's eyes were drooping as Rose was chatting about the story they were getting ready to read.

At hearing her footsteps, they turned and Hugo's eyes instantly snapped fully open.

"Is that," he pointed to the blue rabbit, "for me?"

"It is." Minerva said handing it to him over Rose. "But, we aren't going to play with it until after we read."

"Okay," he said while lying back down, making sure to tuck the rabbit under the covers next to him, fingers playing with its ears.

"And this," Minerva handed the plush mushroom to Rose, "is for you."

Rose took the large ball, and marveled at its softness, "It's really soft Aunt Minerva."

"There are a few things it'll do, which I will show you after we read."

Rose's perked up, "Like Hugo's?"

"Similar, but different."

"What's it do?"

"After we read." Minerva said as she maneuvered around the bed and with great care, she got into bed.

"Is your leg bothering you?" Rose asked, noticing how her Aunt got into the bed.

"It is."

"Is that because of what you did the other night?" Hugo lifted his head up and glanced at Minerva following Rose's question.

"It has nothing to do with the other night." Minerva reassured them, knowing that it would take them a long time to overcome the events at the Granger residence. "I injured it many many years ago, long before either of you were even born."

"Back when you was ours age?" Rose questioned.

"When your mother was finishing her time at Hogwarts."

Hugo's brow crinkled, "Then how old was you'se?"

"I looked much like I do now, but just a little younger."

"And without the white in your hair." Rose added.

"Yes," Minerva agreed, "and without the streak of white." She adjusted the pillows, "Now," and flipped open the book, while donning her glasses, "where to begin."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena pulled her watch from her pocket, not _wanting_ to believe what her eyes were telling her. It was just after 10:30, the main clock was accurate. Not that it hadn't been for the last 44 years, but…

She had been absolutely sure that Minerva would have been here before now, and as her eyes scanned into the critical care rooms; she couldn't believe that Minerva was still not within.

With a sigh, she moved ahead. Harry looked exhausted and Hermione appeared far worse.

_ What was it about Gryffindors? _She mused while skimming the latest results on both patients.

Choosing the easier of the two, she veered left and entered Ginerva's room. Harry's head instantly snapped up, "Hello, Harry."

Brow quirked, surprise clearly showing on his face, "What…do you ever go home?"

"I'm sure Harold would answer that St. Mungos is my home, and our residence is merely a dwelling that I stop at upon occasion. However, it is a dwelling that _I_ do frequent, which brings me to you and yours."

"But Ginny, she's still critical and I want to be here when she awakens." He stammered on, "Or if something happens, and also for Hermione. She's so alone right now, and with her father in critical after she lost her mother…."

"While I sympathize Harry, I still believe you have ample time to return home, see your children and get a few hours of much needed rest."

"But Ginny…"

"Will not be waking up for at least another week, as I have her in a medically induced coma while we are finishing repairing her spinal column. And barring anything unforeseen, her condition will remain unchanged until I bring her out of the coma. Regarding your wife, I believe it is prudent for you to remember that you are in a marathon, Harry and not a sprint. The magnitude of her injuries will take her months to fully recover, if she does. She will have to re-learn how to sit, walk and run. If you are concerned about her welfare, Harold has an Unspeakable division deployed in the critical care unit."

"I don't see them."

"You aren't meant to, but I can assure you they are here. As for Hermione, you can't help her until you help yourself. She'll need you over the course of the next several days and weeks, because her life and the dynamics of it has just been irrevocably altered. Not counting the lives of her children, as well as your own. So, please Harry, take the opportunity and get some rest while you can. I promise that I will send word if anything changes."

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva continued running her hand down Hugo's back, his heartbeat slowing as the nightmare passed. "Is I always is going to have bad dweams now?"

"No dear."

"You'se pomised?"

"I promise." She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair, combing the unruly locks waiting a few more heartbeats before asking. "What was the nightmare about?"

There was a long pause as he squeezed his bunny and then slowly lifted his eyes upwards, "You."

"Was I injured?"

Teary eyes blinked as he nodded, clutching his rabbit tighter to his chest.

"Like the other evening?"

Again he nodded, fingers reaching out to touch her arm. "It was rweally black like lasted time, but…you wasn't okay. You was like meema."

Minerva was in a quandary, as she didn't want to lie to the boy, but the truth was that she was dying and would be dead within a few short months. Therefore, she could offer at best false hope which would decimate the young boy when she did die; and she couldn't and wouldn't be responsible for that. "Hugo," she began…unsure of what or how to tell him the truth in a way that would make sense to him, "many years ago I was hurt very badly."

"You'se arms was hurt bad and turned black?"

"I was hurt even worse."

"Worsed?" He turned on his side to look directly at her, "How much worsed?"

"I almost died."

"Ohhh…" His face fell at her statement, fingers absently playing with his bunny. "But, you gots okays?"

"I did, but not all the way." She could see he wasn't understanding and modified her approach, "Remember how you bumped your knee earlier and now it has a bruise?"

"Yup," he pulled his pant leg up to show her, "its still hurts."

"My accident left with me with a very bad bruise."

"Even nows?"

"Yes, honey. Even after all these years, the bruise hasn't gone away and actually it has gotten much much worse."

"Will it gets better?"

"No, love, it won't."

Hugo swallowed, "But you'se gots to."

"I'm afraid that there will be a day before you reach Rose's age that I will die."

"You can't." Hugo whispered shaking his head. "You gots to stay," his fingers reached over grabbing her hand, "with me."

"I will always be here," Minerva placed her hand with his atop his heart, "forever my little lad even if you can't see me."

"You promises….?" he sniffed.

"Yes, Hugo. I promise. And if I'm not here, there is nothing for you to be afraid of."

"Even da bad dweams?"

"Even those," she cupped his cheek and kissed his head.

He scrambled closer wrapping his arms around her neck, "Okays."

"Lets go see what Rose is doing, shall we?" She felt him nod against her skin, and scooped him up as she stood.

"Aunt Merva?" He rocked back, looking into Minerva's face.

She opened the door, glancing at him sideways. "Yes, Hugo." She could see Rose's head instantly snap up and a smile adorn it. She was playing with the mushroom and paint set. The mushroom had transfigured into a landscape with a hypogriff nestled between some large bushes.

"Is it okays to calls you Máthair?"

She adjusted how she was carrying him to disperse some of the weight off her hip, "Before I answer, do you know what Máthair means?"

Hugo's head bobbed, "Yup." His smile growing as he said the next word, "You."

Rose popped up, "It means like a mother. But me and Hugos," At seeing her brother's suddenly scowling face she modified her story, "Well, more Hugo, thought that was like you. You isn't ours real mum, but you is kinda like her…" She was standing next to Minerva, neck craned and peering up at her. "You are always so nice, not that you don't make us be good, but you teach us."

"And it feels like home when we is heres." Hugo said turning back to Minerva.

"Yeah," Rose continued on, "and it feels like home when we come here."

Hugo's fingers inadvertently had grabbed Minerva's collar and was flipping the edge, "You loved us like mum too."

"Yeah," Rose chimed in agreement, "you do."

"I see," Minerva finally said cadence filled with emotion, "that you both have put a lot of thought into this."

Both children's heads bobbed in agreement as they chorused, "Yup." "Yes."

Minerva maneuvered Rose to the chesterfield and set Hugo upon it before she joined them. Her facial features taking on a serious tone, "Máthair is Gaelic, another language, one that I speak and is native to Scotland. And in Gaelic, Máthair means mother. When you say Máthair in Gaelic, you are saying mother. Máthair's meaning is not similar to mother but it is, and while I am extremely honored that you both wish to call me Máthair; you both already have a mother."

Hugo shook his head, "No, mum isn't máthair. She's mum."

Rose looked at Hugo about to correct him but found herself nodding with his interpretation and going all out in helping her brother. After all, she _really_ liked the idea of calling Aunt Minerva – Máthair. She liked it _a_ _lot_! "You are Máthair."

"Yeah…" Hugo agreed, "Okays?"

"And where did you hear the word Máthair?"

"Mom's computer." Rose said matter a factly, "She's been listening to it for months. Hugo is good at it."

"Good at?" Minerva prompted.

Rose nodded at her brother, "Go ahead."

Hugo turned from his sister to the woman who meant so much more than an Aunt, _"How are you?"_ He asked in Gaelic, continuing in English. "Da nice elf helps mums too, but I don't gets to hear her so much. I supposed be playin'. Rose is okays at it toos."

Rose's cheeks colored at her brother's off-handed compliment, "Do you both want to learn how to speak Gaelic?"

Their eyes widened, heads nodded, "Yeah…" "Of course."

"I will ask Bonnie…"

"That's the elf's name." Rose stated enthusiastically.

Minerva refrained from commenting, her brow merely quirking in acknowledgement that she had indeed heard Rose's pronouncement. "And if Bonnie is unable, have Milksy work with you in learning Gaelic."

"So, if we learn Gael..ic." Rose carefully pronounced, "we can call you Máthair?"

"Rose, as touched as I am, Hermione is your mother, not I. I believe Aunt Minerva would be better."

"But, you are so much more than our Aunt." Rose tried to reason.

"Do you not loved us?" Hugo asked as his fingers touched her knee.

"I do you love you both, very much."

"Then why can't we calls you Máthair?" Hugo's innocent question burning through the last of Minerva's reluctance.

_"You both…are going to get me in a world of trouble with not only your family but mine."_ Minerva muttered in Gaelic, as she leaned forward. "I'd be honored if you called me Máthair."

Any further words were drowned out as Rose and Hugo pounced onto the older witch with squees of delight echoing through her chambers.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena steeled her nerves and pulled the door to Carl Granger's room open and Hermione lifted haggard features and swollen eyes.

"What…are…" Hermione licked her lips before finishing her question, "you here for? Isn't it Sunday?"

"I am here to check on two patients in critical care, along with their family members who need to take care of themselves too."

"I'm fine, I slept a bit last night…"

"I had a sedative administered to Carl after Jean's passing, he will not awaken for another four to six hours."

Brown eyes flashed, "What? Why did you give him a sedative?" She stood, enabling her to meet Helena's gaze levelly with her own. "He's too unstable and it could cause his vitals to plummet."

Helena didn't rise to the anguish ridden bait, "I would not have administered it, if I thought it would cause any additional harm."

"You haven't been in here!" Hermione rebuked.

"No, dear, I haven't. And as I said last evening, you shouldn't have been either."

"He's my father, and I can't take the chance that you or anyone else aren't watching him!"

"I promise you dear, I won't let anything happen to your father." Helena pushed ahead, "He is in critical condition and is being monitored accordingly. But at this moment, my greater concern if for you. You are exhausted and need a good meal, along with a few hours away from St. Mungos. Carl will be here for at least another two weeks, and Harold has assigned an Unspeakable division for this floor to protect him and Ginerva."

"I'll grab something from the Café…"

"Go home, get a shower, a meal and at least laid down for an hour. I don't want to see you back here until you have." Helena could see her tired mind spinning ahead for a viable solution, "And I'll ask Elgin to verify all three if need be, Hermione. You are no good to anyone, namely yourself, if you don't take care of you. And if that isn't a good enough incentive, then do it for your children who I am sure would very much like to see their mother today."

Her shoulders sank, "I can't see them today…and besides, they are fine. They are with Molly and Arthur. The last thing they need to see is me looking as I do, and I don't think I can answer their questions about where their…" her voice broke as she finished the sentence, "grandmother is."

"Their children, Hermione. They don't understand or fully comprehend that Jean is no longer going to be involved in their lives, but they do understand if their mother, who they love very much, suddenly isn't around when they expect her to be. They'll miss Jean, they'll know something isn't right, but you – Hermione, _are_ their mother. And as much as you _want_ your mother back, to be here with you and for you, she can't be. But _you_ can be there for your children, as they _need _you. Just like at one point in time, you _needed_ her."

Large tears slipped off her lashes, "It was supposed to be me."

"No, dear." Helena countered causing brown eyes to widen in shock at her response, "It was supposed to be her, because at that point – you needed her, just like at some point your children might need you. And she did what any mother would do, Hermione; she protected _you_. No different than you protected Rose and Hugo."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Gawain set the report down, wishing just one of his headaches would ease. "Sixty-three memory charms and an automobile accident?"

"The muggle insurance is processing the claim now, but looks as though the whole house will be condemned."

"Once the muggles are done with it, pull what contents you can from the home and proceed."

"The Headmistress asked all the contents be forwarded to her."

He nodded, "I am aware."

"Shouldn't we set up a protective detail and home for Mr. Granger?"

"I believe one has already been arranged."

Wilbur flipped through his notes, "I don't have one on file."

"You wouldn't as it is above even my pay grade, the Minister had been working with the Headmistress regarding the Grangers relocation."

Wilbur knew better than to ask any additional follow-ups and moved on to the next topic. "Has the Headmistress, Hermione Granger or Harry submitted reports as to the details of the attack?"

Gawain nodded, "Minerva has. As for Hermione and Harry, I don't believe we'll be receiving any reports within the next forty-eight hours. Ginny remains in critical condition and Hermione's mother passed last eve."

Wilbur swallowed, "Do you…have the report so we can begin verifying the scene before demolishing the home?"

"For your eyes only," Gawain opened his drawer, reached in and pulled out a silver vial. "Minerva submitted a memory, though there is no sound. It begins with her arrival in the Granger home and ends as she is apparating away with Hugo Weasley."

"How did she withdraw the sound? Is the memory tampered with?"

"Just focus on the contents, and no the memory has not been tampered with."

"Who were the assailants?"

"Our list of Harkiss followers has grown as you will see."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tiredly, Hermione trudged through the snow feeling, lost as the wind whistled through the barren branches. Each step brought the fabled school, her home, closer and yet it became harder to move forward. It felt as though a weight had been cast upon her ankles, and each step caused the weight to grow heavier and heavier until she found herself unable to take another step.

The emptiness she felt finally finding form.

And she just stood there, staring at the parapets of Hogwarts as the wind gushed around her, cloak billowing, hair whipping in her face – stinging her eyes, the snow drifting over her shoes and filling her tracks.

Seconds passing into minutes.

Warm tears trailing down frozen cheeks as she stared unblinking at Hogwarts, trying to understand. Trying to reconcile. Trying to move…but remaining petrified before the great castle.

How was she to move past her mother dying? How was she to reconcile that her mother had died saving her? How was she to go on as though nothing changed, when everything had?

How was she to look at her father and not feel guilty for being alive when his wife, her mother, wasn't because of her?

How could she be one of the best witches in the world, and not able to save her own mother but needed her mother to save her?

Strands of children's laughter stilled her internal musings, causing the barren, icy world to re-focus into the winter wonderland she remembered from her youth as images of her children and those attending Hogwarts flooded her mind's eyes along with Helena's voice – _they need you._

And she picked up her foot, snow tumbling from her boot before she stepped forward and continued on, again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva eased into the room, Godric motioning to the chesterfield and Minerva quietly stepped around the respective furniture to see Hermione's pale form in a less than comfortable position, asleep.

She took in the partially eaten plate of food and half empty glass of wine; she could still smell the antiseptic from the hospital. She probably returned to Hogwarts, ate a bit of food and had a nip of wine, the combination in conjunction with stress and fatigue causing her to quickly drift off to sleep.

Taking a handful of steps, she opened Hermione's bedroom door and found herself involuntarily pausing as she took in a deep breath – relishing the sweet scent of vanilla mixed with oatmeal and the very light, previously unnoticed hint of honey. _Oatmeal and honey_, Minerva thought, realizing what Hermione used to wash either her hair or body with and immediately stilled the far too dangerous thought.

Instead, she returned her focus to where it should have been to begin with and needed to be. Helping Hermione.

Within a few minutes, Minerva had turned down the covers and returned to the living room; wand in hand. She glanced from the chesterfield to the bedroom and then back, as there was no comparison as to which series of spells would drain her magic less, despite the desire to merely transfigure the chesterfield and be done with it. With a sigh, she lifted her hand and felt a cold sweat break out across her skin as she went to move her fingers in a timeless spell; Hermione's body instantly levitated and with another flick, she moved her to her bed trying not to notice how stiff she had become as she set Hermione upon the bed.

A soft moan slipped past her lips, and almost instantly she stretched out while pulling a pillow to her. Minerva put her wand up, before making short work of the boot's laces and carefully removed both of her shoes. It had been a long time since she had manually removed someone's shoes, and as she pulled off the second boot she put a number to the length of time – over seventy years as she tried to keep her mind and thoughts occupied on something other than the curve of Hermione's ankles into her calves. She was about to draw up the covers, but knew from experience how uncomfortable a full set of robes could be. With little effort and a muted grimace, Minerva banished Hermione's outer layer of robes while covering the younger woman.

She let her eyes remain for but a moment more upon Hermione's haggard features, before tearing her gaze away as she needed to return to her chambers and see if Rose and Hugo were ready for their nap too.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione woke to the sound of children playing and she blinked sandy eyes open with a groan. _Children? _She threw the covers back, feeling utterly lost as to why she was in bed and how she had gotten there? Not counting why there were children in her rooms?

Her feet touched the cold stone, bringing a semblance of clarity and recognition as the children's cadence and tone washed over her. Rose and Hugo were in her rooms. Rose and Hugo…at once she stood, grabbed the footboard of her bed to balance herself as she scurried into her living room to see her children laughing and giggling under the watchful eye…

"Minerva…" she breathed, not realizing she had said anything aloud even though Rose and Hugo's heads instantly snapped to her, and Minerva's gaze lifted upwards. And before she could say another word, Rose and Hugo had already dropped their toys and within a heartbeat they launched themselves at her.

"Mum…"

"Mom…"

"You'se awake."

"You're up."

"Yes." Hermione's voice still gravelly from lack of sleep and the stress from the last two days. "And what…" she had kneeled before squeezing both her son and daughter, kissing their cheeks, "are you doing here?"

"Well…" Hugo began, "you see, I was at Grans and Papa's and…uhhh," he twisted his face, "came heres."

"Rose?"

"Yup, just like Hugo said." Rose kissed her mom's cheek before grabbing Hugo's hand and pulling him with her.

Hermione momentarily followed her children's movement before her gaze fell upon Minerva. "Dare I ask?"

"I believe their summary was adequate." Tendrils of humor lacing her cadence, that morphed into a warm tender one. "Did you get some sleep?"

She nodded, "Yes," she answered standing up. Her brows furloughed, "Have you had the kids long?"

"Why don't you take a shower, and we'll eat some dinner."

"I uhh…ate," she pointed to the empty coffee table, "earlier."

"Over six hours ago, and three bites of a sandwich hardly qualifies." Minerva gently said, "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," she came around the chesterfield, fingers guiding her back to her rooms. "Have something with the children."

"I need to get back to St. Mungos." Hermione stated turning to Minerva in the doorway.

"I spoke with Helena less than a half hour ago, Carl is fine and had just awakened."

"What?" Panic sparked in brown eyes, "I need to go…"

Minerva's grip stopped her, "He's bathing, then eating. Something you should do as well."

"I'll just change my robes and go."

"You'll feel better if you take a shower, and spend twenty minutes with your children and eat before you return to St. Mungos."

"I…"

"I have nothing but your best interests at heart my dear, so please trust me."

Hermione met her tender gaze with one of her own, "You know that I do." Hermione admitted, before relinquishing, "I'll leave after dinner."

A half dozen minutes later, Hermione re-emerged in a fresh set of robes and showered; looking incrementally lighter. Milksy brought breakfast dinner, pancakes, sausage and milk for the children; while she brought coffee for Hermione and tea for Minerva.

The kids had been excited at having breakfast, Hermione merely eyed Minerva and kept here commentary to herself. She figured that Minerva probably knew that she'd be more likely to eat something of a breakfast nature after having just awoken; but she did notice that Minerva ate very little.

"Are you having seconds?" Hermione delicately asked.

"My appetite hasn't fully returned since the other evening." Minerva carefully replied.

Hermione's eyes darted from Hugo who had just jammed _another_ fork of syrup laden cakes into his mouth appearing like a chipmunk, his heartfelt words and Harry's, before returning back to Minerva. _How could I be so daft?_ "How badly were _you_ injured?"

Hugo went to answer, but Minerva interjected not trusting what the young boy would say. "Not with your mouth full. And nothing a hint of magic wouldn't take care of."

Hermione opened her mouth to interject, but stopped herself from doing so; realizing on some level despite the last two days – now was not the time to ask. "But you are alright?"

"Quite." Minerva simply replied as she took another sip of tea.

"Mom, can we go with you to the hospitol?" Rose questioned, ending Hermione's curiosity at Minerva's slightly odd responses.

"I…uhhh…"

"Remember we spoke of this earlier, Rose." Minerva set her tea down, "What are yours and Hugo's choices for this evening?"

"Staying with you and Milksy."

"Or…?" Minerva prompted causing Hugo to vehemently shake his head.

"Go back Grandma Weasleys."

"Because why?"

"Mom's going to see Peepaw because he's not well."

Hermione blinked back the tears as Minerva continued on.

"And?"

"We isn't…"

"Aren't."

Rose nodded her head, "…aren't big enough to go for…" she held three fingers up, "this many days."

"Do you remember why that is?"

"He's gots infectons." Hugo proudly answered with a milk mustache.

"And it will take that many days for infections to go away." Rose finished.

"And until then, what else is going to be different?"

"Mom won't be home much." Rose whispered, "And Dad will be busy helping to get the bad wizards. Uncle Harry will be with mom at the hospitol and everyone will be at Grandma Weasleys too. So we'll be with Milksy, you or at Grandma Weasley."

"We choosed here, okays mum?" The hope in Hugo's voice palatable.

Brown eyes met her son's and then daughter's, before meeting Minerva's emerald orbs. "Will that be okay?"

"I've already made the arrangements for the next week, Hermione."

"…thank you." She finally uttered before nodding to her children.

They spoke for a handful of minutes longer, the children regaling Hermione with their gifts and how they worked; several demonstrations were needed for each one before Minerva asked Milksy to watch the children, and she escorted Hermione to her office using the inner passages.

Little was said until they reached the doorway and stepped out into the living room.

"I can't thank you enough for what you did the other night." Hermione whispered, "I wish there was some other way for me to express my gratitude as thank you seems so inadequate for what you did for me, my children…" her eyes became watery as she continued on, "my parents. And I'm sorry that I can't or haven't found a way, and with what you are doing with Rose and Hugo now…"

"You are more than welcome, my dear. And no thanks is needed," She laid her hand gently upon Hermione's shoulder, "as I'm sure there will come a time when I or my family will need your help."

"I truly hope that is not the case, but know that I'll be there for you."

"I do." Minerva sincerely replied, "And know that you have already been there for me."

Hermione began shaking her head, "Not like this."

"You have, and let us leave it there. Shall we?"

"For tonight." Hermione whispered.

"I shall leave my floo open this evening, you are welcome to return that way." Minerva withdrew her hand and feigned a smile, "Though the inner doorways will be sealed and you'll need to use the main halls."

"Thank you." Hermione realized that tomorrow was Monday, "What of my classes, do I need…?"

"Not till Monday the following week."

"Minerva…"

"Say good evening to Carl, and perhaps I shall see you tomorrow." Minerva gently relayed and stepped back through the doorway to the inner passageway, disappearing from view.

* * *

oxox

* * *

It was late when Hermione re-entered Hogwarts, the torches along the fireplace instantly springing to life as she banished the soot.

"Good evening," Hermione quietly stated, eyes instantly glancing towards the second floor landing, and she wished a light was spilling outward. She would have loved to speak with Minerva this evening, or merely thank her for what she did for the children and her. But it was late, and she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up; after all, Minerva didn't take a nap in the middle of the day – she had.

Biting back a yawn, Hermione headed to her rooms; legs barely working as she trudged up the hundred and twenty plus steps.

"Godric." She nodded and at once the lock clicked and the door opened.

"Are the children here or are they with Minerva?" she asked as she finished closing the door.

"Minerva is within," Godric nodded to the living room, "she opted to remain here, trying to minimize any further stress to the children."

"Do you know if she is asleep?"

"I haven't heard much noise for the past two hours."

Hermione unfastened her cloak, hanging upon the coat rack. "Thank you my friend."

Godric wished to say more, but knew it was not his place to inform her how weak Minerva had become. Nor how much it was taxing Minerva to do what she had for his charge. "Good night, Hermione."

She strode through her den and stepped into the living room, the soft hues reflecting off the white petals of her roses. She took the handful of steps to Rose's room, to find it empty.

She glanced over her shoulder to Hugo's room, and while she doubted Minerva would be in Hugo's room because it was too small for all of them on his bed; with a wave she lit a torch by the door; the soft light streaming over his room and the two still forms of her children asleep on his bed and then she noticed the vigilant stance of the small elf to the side – two large opalescent eyes blinking up at her.

"Milksy?"

"Mistress asked that I remain here and watch Rose and Hugo until your return or if either one woke up to take them to her."

"How long ago did she leave?"

"She'se asked me not to relay that information, as you'se had enough on you'se mind."

"Right…" Hermione whispered before turning back to her devoted house elf, "Thank you for helping to watch the children."

"My pleasure." And with a snap, Milksy disapparated and Hermione let her eyes drift back to her two children. They were both hugging their new stuffed animals, laid out across his bed...and she leaned back until her spine touched the door jam, hands covering her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks and she slowly slid downwards until she had reached the floor as she gazed into her children's loving faces and she silently gasped as her head fell back until it struck the frame – eternally thankful that they were still here.

Alive.

And able to be with her.

* * *

_Xoxo_

* * *

_a/n: Figured a Monday pick-me up was in order, hope you enjoyed! And I'll see everyone soon, but not quite 'that' soon ;) _


	86. Chapter 83 January 11th, 2010

**Chapter 83 ~ January 11****th****, 2010 (Monday)**

_a/n: No spooks, no goblins, no cauldrons a brew, I can only offer you a witch or two…Happy Halloween._

Minerva waited until the last of the students left, following them to the doorway and closing it. "Elgin."

He appeared at the far side of the room, "Do you wish me to go ahead Mistress?"

"Yes, please." Minerva watched as Elgin cleaned the chalkboard, and brought the mice from the storage cellars in their cages, placing them upon the desks.

"And the clocks?"

Minerva withdrew her wand, momentarily rolling it in her fingers before flourishing it in a downward spiral. She could feel her magic react – and the effects, as her fingers became instantly tender and stiff; her jaw tightening as she schooled her features to keep the discomfort from becoming known. And as one, the partially to the fully transfigured clocks morphed to their original state; leaping frogs that Elgin quickly dispatched of with a snap.

Minerva withdrew her wand from her right hand using her left one, and noticed Elgin's remorseful expression as his yellow eyes gazed longingly into hers. "It will only get harder as the days pass my friend, for that I am sorry, but as you well know, it is necessary."

His ears drooped, "Knowing doesn't makes it easier, Mistress." He edged marginally closer. "Is there be any things else you'se be needing?"

"To cancel my lunch with the children, I will need the hour and a half to rest."

Elgin swallowed twice before braving his voice to speak, "I'se will takes care of its." He cleared his throat once more, before finishing. "I'se also brings you'se lunch after you'se nap."

"Thank you." She stated as she glided behind the desk, glancing at the stack of papers to be graded. "That'll be all until the end of the next period." She heard and felt him leave, as she read the header of the top essay – easily realizing it was from the fourth year curricula.

Her eyes skimmed the next stack, and she felt a wane smile cross her lips at how easily it still all came to her, even after all these years. And, that even as the end was rapidly approaching, it didn't seem in some ways that much time had passed since she herself was sitting in this very room and gazing up at Albus and learning the art that she had devoted so much of her life to pursuing.

Shaking her head, she withdrew the chair; and reached for the quill. The skin of her right hand pulling in discomfort from casting the once simple spell, and with a wince, she forced her digits to grip the eagle quill, dip it in ink, and begin on the pile before her. The next class would not commence for another twenty minutes, and time of late had become far too precious to waste.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"You sure you're alright?" Percy asked his far too distracted brother, again.

George didn't bother lifting his gaze up, knowing that he needed to get a lid on his thoughts before his brother asked one too many questions. "Just worried about Ginny and Hermione."

"Helena seems very optimistic regarding Ginny's recovery, the question is if there will be any lasting affects on her legs and motor function."

"We won't know for weeks if she'll even be able to walk." George rebutted, not really wanting to have this conversation, again. They had already had it last evening, and truly his patience had reached its limit. He was tired, and unable to sleep the past two nights as Rory hadn't returned since his visit to see McGonagall. And that worried him even more for not only Rory's welfare, but McG's too.

Rory had broken down and said that she would be dead within the year, and well…there was something in his eyes as he had divulged it that…felt…wrong. As if the news was graver, and for whatever reason, Rory was trying to make it lighter. And if she had been injured during this mess, and if she was already not well, what did that mean for her welfare? It wasn't as if he could ask her, or Helena and Rory was like the wind, he could only find him if Rory wished him too.

Rory.

Vaguely he heard Percy mumble something in response, his thoughts having turned back to his lover. It had been, well, almost two months since their relationship began and the last several weeks they had spent the night at one of their homes, together. And, he had become very accustomed to the notion, as had his body, since he hadn't slept for more than a half hour at a time before jerking awake.

But what would drive him from his bed? No note, no word, nothing.

He had just, well, vanished.

And his heart froze as he processed that it might not be that Rory didn't want to contact him, but that he wasn't able. Perhaps he had been caught, or worse yet, killed.

He felt a set of fingers clutch his arm, and he turned to see a worried blue expression meet his eyes, "George…?"

"I…" He tried to dispel the image of Rory's broken body lying against an outcropping of rocks, but found that the more he tried, the more disfigured Rory's body became. "I, ah…need you to cover for a few hours."

"George," Percy's fingers clamped down upon his younger brother's arm, not letting him flee, "I'll help, what is it?"

"…" The words were on his lips, but he couldn't tell Percy his concern and with watery eyes he shook his head before freeing himself from Percy's grasp and leaving in a rush.

"Maybe, Ron was right after all…" Percy muttered at the still vibrating door, "and he does love Hermione." Percy felt his mood sink at the notion, and what that would mean to his already fracturing family.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Andre snapped as he adjusted his leg, "As if _you_ could have done better."

Aegis met the disdain with ease, "I wouldn't have been foolish and gone after Hermione and her family without _knowing_ that she'd be alone and unable to procure assistance." Aegis let his hand slide along the lip of the mantle, "And a shotgun," he slowly shook his head, "tsst tsst…you are getting sloppy my friend."

Lucius barely kept the features of his face from belaying any mirth he was feeling at Aegis' ribbing. However, the other man in the room, found the comment anything but comical.

"You weren't there, as usual." Douglass sneered, "So don't bother commenting."

"Ohhh," Aegis subtly turned to the far younger wizard, "I was there." His brow arched, daring Douglass to contradict him, and his patience easily won as the younger wizard quickly rose to the bait.

"If you were there, then why didn't you help?"

"I did," Aegis calmly replied, "or did you not notice that there was no Auror division impeding you from your intended goal?"

Andre's head snapped towards Douglass, "You said they _weren't_ being watched."

"They weren't." Douglass began Andre cut him off as he glared back at obtuse man before him.

"How many Aurors were there, and why in Merlin's beard didn't you tell us?"

"A team of four. It seems you have underestimated the Minister or the Headmistress again." He finally pulled away from the mantle, "One of these times, I daresay, it could have a deadly effect."

"And you just thought you'd what, watch us die?"

"An interesting notion," Aegis drawled, "but rather frivolous, wouldn't you say?"

Andre's eyes narrowed, "Then why _were_ you there?"

"I asked him," Johannes answered, causing several heads to swirl in his direction, "to ensure the perimeter and leave. As I asked _you_ three to apprehend Granger's parents or children, not get…"

* * *

oxox

* * *

"…about your prognosis two mornings ago, and I haven't seen him since he came to see you." George felt incredibly small as he met her unyielding gaze, "Do you know where he is?"

"Not precisely." Minerva carefully answered the younger wizard.

"But he is…" George swallowed the tears, "alright?"

Minerva involuntarily glanced at the mostly alabaster clock, her heart sinking for two very different reasons. She was exhausted and needed to sleep, which she'd be hard pressed to achieve within the next few minutes; but…the more depressing reason was her own condition and the affect it was having upon her dearest friends…and _their_ loved ones. "No, George." She lifted her gaze back to meet his startled one, as she reached out, laying her hand atop his forearm. "Physically, he is fine. I'm sure he is upon the property, looking after a few things for me. But, the news he told you and what I relayed…" she flexed her hand, momentarily squeezing his forearm before letting it go and drifting past him, making her way to the window, "is vastly different."

"I don't…McG?" He turned following her slow gait and measured steps. As he watched her walk, she almost seemed…old. As if it had happened overnight, gone was the aura of energy and zest that seemed to exude from the elder witch. And a sense of overbearing dread began twisting his stomach as he fully processed her words. "How…different?"

She let her fingers run across the cool ledge, eyes focusing upon the marble tomb of her husband and with a sigh turned back to George. As much as she'd prefer to keep the details of her prognosis private she didn't have the strength to watch George walk out with the worry and doubt still etched so clearly on his face because of her nor what that could and would mean for his and Rory's still infant relationship.

While Helena had Harold, and she knew her dearest friend would lean heavily upon him as the time approached; Rory had no one left. As he would not seek counsel or consol from those who considered him Uncle nor would he search out Helena; their lives too different, and she would be going through what he was and he would not wish to burden her with his own problems. And while he _could_ handle the situation, would invariably live through it, she knew it would make it much easier if he _had_ someone who knew the truth – even if it made her last few months moderately more challenging. She could see his ever-mounting concern as he waited for her answer, an answer that she was loathed to breath aloud, because with each passing of her lips, it seemed to bring the inevitable closer…more real. "Within three months, I will have passed the veil." She watched as his hand clenched the edge of the furniture, knuckles turning white from the effort, as he tried holding himself upright at her news. "Only Rory, Helena, Harold, Poppy and Filius know of the severity. Even my children believe I shall live to the end of the term year and the scant others who know of my affliction believe I will live for a year perhaps slightly more."

Mouth agape, George tried to formulate some type of response, but could only stare at his former head of house, in shock. Rory had made subtle remarks, inferring that she was unwell, that she would need to slow down; but this…this was not even a year.

"Please, George – sit down." She stepped forward, motioning for him to join her as she sat opposite of him. "Elgin," she whispered, and he appeared at once, "please ask Filius to arrange for Marx to cover Transfiguration this afternoon. The lesson plan is resting on the edge of the desk, next to the graded essays."

"Will that be all?"

"Afterwards, if you could ask Bonnie if Rory is in the Northern country."

Elgin glanced past his Mistress to the young Weasley who Bonnie had remarked several weeks ago had entranced Rory. "At once," he murmured and with a muffled crack was gone.

"You've…" George had found his voice and had rapidly deduced a confluence of events that made him both hurt and angry at both his lover and the woman before him. "all this time, you've known, haven't you?"

Minerva lifted her gaze to the suddenly flushed features and storm riddled irises, and as much as she loathed this conversation, it barely held a candle to the one she hoped she'd never have to have – one with Hermione. "I should have died in 1996, but through a magical fluke, I lived. However, we believed it to be short-lived because of the nature of both the injury and my survival." She held up a hand to forestall his question, "Some secrets will go with me to my grave, George. That being one. As for my health, it has slowly been digressing as the years have passed, and this past one has…substantially shorted what time I had left."

"How?"

"Your word that this conversation, all of it, remains here." He opened his mouth, but she merely continued on. "As the _only_ reason we hare having it, is because I want you to be able to help Rory. And you cannot do that, if you do not understand."

"But the Order, Harry…" his eyes widened farther, "Hermione, her children, I can't…"

"To be there for the one you love, you can."

"Please, McG…" his eyes widened, "do not ask me to withhold that from my family and friends. You…everyone looks to you. And without you..."

She couldn't listen to anymore and interrupted, "They shall learn soon enough, George. But until then, I need everyone to believe as they have."

"That you are fine," he paused as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're doing all this because of Harkiss." He whispered, tears threatening to spill onto his lashes as his voice became gravelly with emotion. "Aren't you?"

"Your word," she countered.

He reached up, fingers and thumb wiping off the tear streaks from each cheek, "What of my Mum and…family? If I don't say anything they'll learn of the truth and…"

"That shan't happen."

Shock laced his eyes, "What? How wouldn't they learn the truth? Unless you…" his voice died into a whisper as he finished, "you plan on dying."

"Do I have your word?" she asked once more, and waited in silence – their eyes holding the others until slowly, reluctantly, he conceded. "My health and magical stores are inter-related and the latter has been dwindling for over a decade. The larger the draws upon my magic…"

"The weaker you become."

She nodded, "And with Harkiss returning, I have used substantially more than I had in previous years."

"His return has expedited your…" George struggled with what to finish the sentence with, as the word death wouldn't pass across his lips.

"Condition." Minerva supplied, acknowledging his statement. "It has."

"So the situation at Azkaban or saving Harry…?"

"Neither one was assistive in my long term health, but both were necessary."

"How can you say that?" George rebuked, "Someone, other than you, could have done what you did and are doing!"

"True," Minerva agreed, "however, I am the only person who is presently dying, George."

His eyes bulged at her simple proclamation.

"And I'd much prefer it be my life, to that of another."

It was the last remark that resonated, "You mean to kill or defeat Harkiss." His stomach jumped and twisted, "That's why you aren't concerned with afterwards." Voice dropping, as the gravity of what she meant to do. "Because you realize to do it, means that you will have to forfeit your life."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Helena paused, eyes scanning over the documents one final time before she withdrew the quill and dipped it into the inkpot; and with little effort penned her name upon the document. "Jayne, send this to Bridgett, she'll need to begin the paperwork so release the body to the mortuary this afternoon."

"It's…" Jayne lifted the folded paperwork up, "already here."

Helena took the papers, "Thank you." She flipped the paperwork open, "Though, I don't think I want to know how you got Bridgett to send these without the an official request."

"Who said I contacted Bridgett?" Jayne quipped and reached for the paperwork resting in Helena's fingers. "If you can sign these, and…" she handed her another folder, "these."

Helena opened the folder, skimming the four additional death certificates – the ones pertaining to the Aurors who had been killed at the Granger residence. She skimmed the autopsy results, and inwardly winced as she read the results – two had died from the killing curse, the other two were not so lucky; one from suffocation and the other was missing significant bone mass and blood.

She dipped the quill once more, and with a flourish signed the five pieces of paper. "Do deliver Jean's first, as it takes the muggle community slightly longer to prepare the body, and I believe Hermione wishes the services to take place on Wednesday."

"At once," Jayne stated, "also, Jordan is here to see you."

Helena's brow quirked, "Please, send her in." She wondered why her daughter had stopped by, as it was quite the abnormality. Pulling the rest of her morning floor reports to her, she glanced up at her daughter's distinct gait. "Jordan," a smile easily adorned her face, "this is a pleasant surprise."

"I was in the neighborhood." Jordan relayed, eyes scanning her mother's orderly chaotic desk and fatigue ridden face.

"While wonderful to hear, I know that isn't quite true." Helena motioned for her to have a seat, "Are you and the children well?"

"We're fine, mother." Jordan answered as she sat down, "However, my concern for yours and father's welfare continues to increase." She leaned forward, "I thought you and father were going to scale back your respective workloads and go into protective custody."

"I never consented to leave, darling."

"Ohh, don't darling me, mother." Jordan rebutted, "I'm talking about both of your lives."

"And you act as though you and father weren't almost killed less than two weeks ago," her voice hardening as she repeated the phrase hoping to drive the point home, "two weeks, mother. And I would have been like Hermione, but instead of burying one parent, I would have been burying you both."

Helena felt her back straighten, as her jaw tightened, and their bond rippled as her husband tried to assuage her feelings. "Perhaps," she evenly stated, drawing her glasses from her face, "we should start over, Jordan."

"Don't deflect, mother."

And Helena met her daughter's steely one with her own penetrating gaze. "I am not deflecting, but was going to blatantly ignore your concern. As I am _acutely_aware of how close your father and I came to dying; and while it has been many years since we have been in that close of danger, it has not been either of our first time, and before the end of this war – I doubt it'll be the last."

"Mother…you and father _must_ seek refuge, as your known friendship…"

"Stop." Helena clipped over her daughter, "Do. Not. Say it."

"She's like a second mother to me, my aunt, but it is still the truth mom."

"And she is the _only_ reason that not only I am alive but your father too. Now, leave it be."

"The Order, everything is becoming extremely risky." Jordan tried another tact.

Helena shifted, "It is love. And it will only become more so."

"Then why don't you take a less active role like the last war?"

"Because, Minerva needs both Harold and I. As she doesn't have the resources or stamina as in the last one."

"There is far more than what you are telling me, as father has _always_ taken a quiet approach and even he is not walking in the shadows."

"We've _always_been an active participant in the Order, however, because of our positions it suited all involved for the degree of our involvement to be rather surreptitious." She interlaced her fingers atop the desk, "But, you're accurate, love. There is more than what we are telling you, and I'm sorry because…I can't or rather won't talk about it."

"I'm forty-six, and…"

"Still _my_ daughter," Helena countered. "It isn't about age, Jordan." Her eyes softened as she gently continued on, "Rather a desire to protect our families; and that means _you_ too."

"I'm fine. I'm not involved…"

"You weren't involved with Voldemort and you were almost killed, twice last war."

"I will be fine."

"Fine." Her voice broke as the afternoon light sparkled against startling blue eyes, "That's what two of your cousins, your uncle, some of my closest friends, and your brother believed; and they are all dead."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Minerva," Pierre slid his hands down her back, "your muscles, especially your hip...I don't know how much I can get the muscles to release."

"I only ask," Minerva bit back a whimper, "that you do what you can."

"Your hip is far worse since I saw you just over three weeks ago, what has changed?"

"Everything." Minerva quietly answered as his hands skimmed down her skin.

"It is affecting your back, leg…"

She turned her head away from him, tears already springing in her eyes from the pressure he was applying. "I am aware." She whispered.

"Minerva, I'm going to need to go substantially deeper to release this," he breathed out, sensing her discomfort.

"I haven't had any pain potions since the weekend, having had an alternate therapy to numb the joint; but I can't function without feeling along my entire right side."

"What if you take one before I go any farther?"

"I will try going without…"

"Minerva," Pierre stepped around to look into her eyes, "your hip is almost completely locked up; if I don't go deep, I won't be able to release _any_ of it."

"I know," she answered as met his stalwart gaze.

"Alright," he could see the steel buried within her eyes; despite the pain and utter fatigue. "I have a salve that I'll spread over your back and legs, it'll help but Minerva…there will be complications."

A soft chortle left her lips, "Of late, that phrase is becoming the bane of my existence."

"Minerva...?"

She stilled her nerves, "What type of complications?"

"It diffuses the pain across the whole of your skin and body; but it makes it very tender for several hours afterwards."

"I'll remain at the Manor this evening, so please, go ahead."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George carefully maneuvered around the outcropping, the icy weather stealing his breath as cold fingers gripped the unseen ledge. _How would anyone find their way up here?_ He thought as he slid forward, surprised by the sudden appearance of an old trail between the treacherous path.

He pulled his cloak tighter about his frame as he made his way north on the path, trying not to worry about how he'd return. Because the path that McG sent him on, would not be safe to descend. _Please let Rory be up here,_ George thought for the umpteenth time.

While the air was down right cold, the wind nothing short of brutal, George had to concede that the wintery landscape was picturesque.

Snow drifts covering whole rock formations, moss and sprigs of grass defying the brutal cold in others, frozen rivers and trickling water…he never imagined something so beautiful and yet deadly.

When asked why Rory would be up here, Minerva merely smiled and patted his knee; _"Long held family secrets."_

As if those four words hadn't intrigued him. He had wondered what she was referring to, and what could possibly be this far north upon her property and in the Highlands that would constitute a _family_ _secret_?

_ Probably some type of crypt? Another home or cottage that none knew of? A hidden vault of fortune from the fabled McGonagall family? _

He rounded a jagged corner that he had to duck beneath, and simply stopped and stared out across the plateau that seemed to have been carved out of the side of the hillside. Large evergreens sprawled out across the landscape, surrounding a partially frozen lake with a dusting of snow a top it, faint sound of trickling water could be heard, but it was the fluttering between the trees that drew his attention. Two molten colored sapphire blue phoenixes spiraled down wards and then arced up only a moment before impacting the snow, causing a drift of snow to swirl behind them.

Another ruffle caused his head to snap to the left, and he watched as a second pair of phoenixes – their golden feathers sparkling against the afternoon light.

Another swirled past his ear, a warm trill blanketing his skin as they darted past him.

His jaw dropping, as his eyes grew to the size of saucers, brain finally processing what he was seeing around him.

_Phoenixes…_

He turned his head again, and again…

"Only Minerva could have sent you." Rory stated as he stepped from the shelter of the trees and into the clearing, causing his lover's head to immediately turn towards him.

"Rory…" he breathed out in a whispered gasp.

"What...are you…" despite wanting to keep his distance, Rory couldn't stop himself from moving forward, "doing here?"

George had a hundred questions, but none of them mattered at the moment. Rory was alive. He didn't stop moving until he felt Rory's arms pulling him against his chest, and George was wrapping his own arms around the solidness of his lover. "Making sure you are alright."

Rory held George tighter as a soft warble resonated overhead, and as if by magic…the entire glade followed suite; lifting not only their spirits but souls as the phoenixes song ebbed their worry away.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie's ears sank as another pain laden moan filled the lower floor of the Manor, the Mistress was not doing well.

She knew Pierre was trying to help her, but at hearing another so close together; and that it was unbidden caused her worry to increase. The Mistress was always so private.

Priding herself on keeping her feelings, emotions, and such hidden.

And to hear her, broke Bonnie's heart.

She knew of late, that Minerva had not been well; to the point of dropping her guard around Helena.

But, Pierre?

She swallowed her thoughts, and forced herself to the kitchen to ensure that dinner would be ready once Pierre had finished. She highly doubted that Minerva would wish to eat, but in case she did…

Bonnie placed a spoon into the sauce, and tasted it. _Needs more garlic,_ she thought as the light moan was replaced with a strangled cry and Bonnie dropped the spoon; immediately apparating to the corner of the den.

Eight other house elves arriving only a moment after her, every member of the house ready to defend their Mistress; hands splayed outward, spells upon their lips as they took in the scene before them.

"Two more…" Pierre relayed as he rotated her hip towards her chest, and Minerva gasped again, tears straining her cheeks as she gazed at the ceiling. Pierre noticed their sudden audience, and met Bonnie's worried gaze. "You know I would never hurt her, Bonnie."

"He's…" Minerva took a ragged breath, "I'll be fine."

Bonnie glanced from Pierre to Minerva and back before nodding, "I will stay and call if there is need."

All the elves glanced to Bonnie, and slowly one by one they left until only she remained. She tilted her head to Pierre before turning away, facing the wall as he rotated her hip again; and she was forced to hear the awful sound of her Mistress' whimper, again.

The moans lessened as time lapsed, but Bonnie's tears had not…they had saturated her shirt and stained her cheeks. And while she was assured that her Mistress would probably be able to walk later, she would no longer withhold pain potions from her; even if she was building up a tolerance to them. Bonnie couldn't bear having to endure seeing or hearing her Mistress in so much pain again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Ron cleared his throat, "I'm sorry, Hermione."

Hermione quelled her initial retort, _wanting _to move on. "Thank you."

"How's Carl?" his eyes flickered to the doorway her father was behind.

"Resting." She motioned to Ginny's room, "I was going to see Harry and Ginny…"

"He fell asleep about a half hour ago," Ron's mouth quirked into a partial grin. "He's going to have a hell of a neck cramp in the morning."

"You didn't help him?"

He made a face, "Of course I did, well," he shrugged, "after a short while. But, he's good. Probably won't wake up for another two or three hours."

"I know the feeling." Hermione muttered.

"Not sleeping?" Ron gently asked.

"Not too well."

Concern flashed behind blue irises, "Anything I can do?"

Her heart fluttered at the sincerity and tenderness in his voice, and she was reminded of why she had fallen in love with him. A part of her _wanted_ to say yes, but she knew that road – had traveled it, and couldn't do it again. "Help catch the men who did this."

"We're working on it."

Tears instantly burned against the backs of her eyes, "Not fast enough, Ron." Her voice broke, "They killed my mother, almost killed my father, and our children."

"We can't find any of them, not even at the Malfoy residence."

"Dad blew apart Andre's lower legs, he should be fairly easy to find. A healer or someone had to have seen him."

"There isn't any evidence, Hermione."

"Then you aren't looking," she countered.

His back bristled, "We have been."

She bit back a caustic retort, knowing it wouldn't help, but found it hard to completely curtail it. "Then look harder."

Ron ran his hand through his hair, "I don't want to argue, Hermione." He sighed, "I just want to make sure that you are alright."

Brown eyes clouded, but she found the will to nod. "I will be."

"If you need anything…"

"Just catch them, Ron." She reiterated, as she walked by him, patting his shoulder.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, halting her movement. "I _really_ am sorry, Hermione." He met her eyes with grieving eyes, "For not only your mom, but what I said about McGonagall." His adam apple bobbed as he forced the rest of the words from his throat, his mother's scalding still ringing in his ears for what he said about the prestigious woman when said woman _had_ been the one to save not only Hermione but both of their children. His family. "I was wrong."

Hermione's jaw dropped at Ron's admission. To hear him openly state he was wrong, was virtually unheard of. "You don't believe she's the reason my family was attacked?"

He opened his mouth to say that he agreed with her statement, but he couldn't. Because while he was eternally thankful for McGonagall's aid in helping his family; he still wholeheartedly believed that she was the primary reason they had been in danger in the first place.

"Ron…?" And she could see it reflected in his eyes before he had a chance to respond, she knew. Instantly, she reached up and pushed his hand from her arm, "Don't." She snapped, eyes blazing in anger. "Even try."

"Hermione, I am sorry for what I said." Ron apologized again, hoping to derail some of her growing fury.

"No, Ron – you're sorry you got caught."

"Hermione…"

She held up her hand, "Stop, Ron. Just…" she shook her head, "stop. Regarding Minerva, unless you sincerely mean it, let the subject drop. And otherwise, just…" she couldn't believe she had thought he had willingly apologized, "…dammit, Ron, just find them. Before they kill someone else."

Ron watched as she strode through the trauma doors without a background glance, "Dammit," he muttered wondering how he would get her to see that she was wrong, and that befriending McGonagall had placed her and the children in danger – even if she had saved them.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

George leaned his head back against Rory's chest, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rory let his hand drift down and slowly back up his arm, "There isn't much to say."

"Can't anything be done?"

A low rumble reverberated from his chest, "She…has been dying for over a decade." He shook his head, at the notion. "We thought, we'd have another one, I suppose. After all, she is Minerva McGonagall."

"…the Headmistress of Hogwarts, noted Master of Transfiguration…"

"wife of one Albus Dumbledore."

"What?" George instantly craned his neck, "I thought he was gay."

"He had same-sex relations before…well, before they were together. Though, Merlin did he love her." Rory murmured against his cheek, "And she him."

"Her children…are his?"

"Yes."

"Wow," he slowly turned back around, "I can't imagine having McG and Dumbledore for parents."

"It was a tremendous stress upon the family, especially as the children grew older and the threat with Riddle became paramount."

"What happened to her, their children?"

Rory's hand tightened across George's waist, his lips brushing the top of George's head. "…Callum, was their youngest. He was killed with his wife and daughter by a handful of death eaters which…led to Derrick's death. Esmerele, was attacked at the Manor just over a month after Albus passed by Johannes, she died in Minerva's arms."

"And the other two?"

"Both are married. Her daughter has two children not of age to attend Hogwarts, and her eldest – her son, is expecting a child this spring."

The faint strands of the phoenix song drifted over them, "What happened to her that would cause her to slowly lose magic?"

"Eternal love." Rory murmured, as he kissed the nape of George's neck.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Aye," Rory let his hands trail lower, "it does. Just think back to old magic, love."

"Old…" George innately turned his head as Rory began kissing his ear, "magic."

"Aye." Rory deftly unfastened George's belt, "The kind that is written about in the texts that collect dust in the bookshelves of your parents' house."

"There are old journals, that I…" the music about them shifted, becoming more sensual and George could feel his pulse becoming thready as Rory pulled open his shirt. "Rory…we are in the middle of…"

"There is no one here, love." Rory countered as his fingers found flesh and skimmed up his chest. Rory banished both their shirts, as he leaned forward and pressed his chest into George's back as his fingers began massaging the younger man's pectorial muscles.

"ohh…Rory, I missed…" he spun his head around, capturing the other man's tantalizing lips in slow sensual kiss, "you." Blue eyes peered into simmering grey ones, "Please, don't leave me again."

Rory's response was drown out as George pushed him onto his back, while straddling his thighs and pulling the very breath from his lungs; and Rory acquiesced to the younger wizard's demands, wanting nothing more than to feel for another moment as the phoenixes songs blanketed them in the other's love.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva poured another steep glass, her third in less than a half hour. She didn't bother sealing the decanter, upending the amber liquid in one fell swoop as she downed the entire contents of the tumbler.

She reached for the bottle, beginning to feel the effects from the first glass spider through her system, as she tipped it up again.

"Yes, Bonnie?" she called out, feeling the elf's presence.

"I am…" Bonnie hedged closer, "concerned."

Minerva placed the top onto the decanter, lifting her eyes to meet the golden orbs. "The pain is dissipating." Minerva gently leaned back, feeling every fiber of fabric press against her back and the back of her legs.

"Not regarding the events of the past several hours, but of what is to come."

"I know that Elgin spoke with you regarding my dialogue with Helena on Saturday." She flipped her hair out from behind her back, and it fell about her and over the back of the chesterfield. "And no doubt what has transpired since then."

"Elgin indicated that you are barely performing any magic, and when you do, you are quite uncomfortable."

"We knew this day would come."

"Minerva," Bonnie hesitantly stepped forward, "I…will you be able to do what you have set out to do?"

Sad crystalline green eyes expressed her indecisiveness, "At the onset, I believed. But it has lasted substantially longer, and I am far weaker." She let her gaze remained fixed upon the tumbler for another long moment before lifting up to Bonnie. "I really don't know anymore, Bonnie."

"And if you are…unsuccessful," Bonnie hesitantly plunged ahead, knowing that it _needed_ to be discussed, however wishing she was not the person to do so, "what of the family?"

"The family…" The two words came out with a hint of disdain as her brow arched, "…the family…" she took another sip of malt, "how in Merlin's beard could I forget about _the family?_"

Bonnie's worry increased ten fold by the remark, "Minerva?"

She resisted the notion of leaning forward, her legs and back too sensitive to endure the momentary discomfort. "I've only made rudimentary arrangements," she swirled the contents of her tumbler around the glass, "and am finalizing what I can."

"With Madame Helena and Master Rory?"

"Partially," Minerva whispered, "but only just, because if I am unable to stop Johannes; then I fear both the Harrisons and Rory will be joining Albus and I all too soon."

"And with whom are the ancillary arrangements with?"

"Filius, Warren, and there will be information left with Arthur amongst a few others." A ghost of a smile fluttered across her lips, "I shall leave you details, Bonnie."

"Mistress…Minerva…" Bonnie edged incrementally closer, "I only ask because you asked me all those years ago to ensure the family's safety if something should happen to you."

They shared a long look and Minerva reached out, wincing as she did, to take Bonnie's knobby hand. "I remember." She quelled her frustration at what the next few months would mean for her, "And I hope I will not disappoint, you – the family, Albus; but the odds Bonnie are…" her voice trailed off, indicating the likelihood of her success.

Bonnie felt her heart leap into her throat, "You could never disappoint your family, Minerva. Ever." A warmth lit her golden eyes from within, "Your parents couldn't have been more proud of the woman you became and are."

Emerald eyes narrowed, "Have you had a nip of Malt tonight?"

Bonnie's eyes grew wide at the remark as she started to stammer, and Minerva's lips curled into a full smile before she slid her glass over to Bonnie, "Or perhaps you should."

"Minerva…I cannot…"

"To finish talking about the estate," Minerva easily poured another full measure, "and who shall be inheriting the Manor, I have no doubt that you'll want a glass if not two."

Bonnie glanced to the glass and then to Minerva, and what she had insinuated. With a snap of her fingers a second tumbler appeared next to the full one. "Then undoubtedly, you shall need another one."

"Indeed, I probably shall."

"Just tell me," Bonnie filled the new tumbler, "that you have not decided to give the Manor to Madame Tessa."

"Actually, I was thinking of appointing an interim caretaker of the property until the grandchildren were of age or their children."

"Rory?" Bonnie lifted her glass.

"As long as he is alive."

She narrowed her eyes, "Will Helena consent?" She inquired only moments before taking a sip.

"If I ask her, but I was…" Minerva weighed her next statement, and plunged ahead – as it was personal. Deeply. As it dealt with her family. Her history. Her past, and what remained of her family's future. The McGonagall lines future. A heritage she had done her utmost to protect, and one that her children were not inclined to follow. It wasn't as though they weren't proud of their heritage, their past…but it dealt more with their father; and not the Highlands. Not the fabled McGonagall Manor, the creeks and riverbeds, the lochs…and she couldn't help but want her family's history to remain. And if not her immediate heirs, then one of her grandchildren or perhaps their children – and until then, permit another to live here. Enable the halls to once again be filled with children's laughter versus continuing its hallowed existence. "What do you think of Hermione remaining here and her children?"

Even years of decorum couldn't stop Bonnie's reaction, as Malt was spewed outward in shock. "I...what? Are you sure Minerva?"

"No," she softly admitted, "but neither my remaining son or daughter are suited for living in the Highlands as you well know."

"And...Madame…" Bonnie took a deep breath, "Hermione?"

"Her children are."

"Minerva…no one will understand."

"I am not concerned with their understanding, Bonnie. I am asking _you_, and _your_ thoughts regarding the matter."

The ancient grandfather clock's steady tick and tock mutely blending in with crackling fire, as the evening's stars sparkled through the library's atrium window as seconds passed between them. And slowly the stately woman and elder house elf disintegrated, leaving two beings whose bond was nothing short of utterly amazing and exceptionally unusual – that of a caregiver, protectorate, friend, and family.

"My thoughts…" Bonnie quietly repeated as she tried to process what had been said, and fully gazed into Minerva's eyes to see…a spark she knew. And she sighed, in resignation. "I know you care greatly for her, Minerva as well as her children; but…"

"If I entrusted her with the Manor, would you and a portion of the elves remain in her employ?"

"Is that your wish?"

"I think you already know the answer to your question."

Slowly Bonnie nodded, "And you, already know mine."

Minerva closed her eyes as two trails of tears skimmed down her cheeks, "Thank you."

Bonnie lifted her glass, downing the contents in its entirety before asking the one question regarding the entire situation she needed to know. "Will you ever tell her of your…feelings towards her?"

Crystalline emerald eyes blinked open and fastened upon Bonnie, "They shall remain undisclosed."

"She deserves to know…"

"No," Minerva corrected, "she deserves an opportunity at happiness and love, neither of which I can do for her."

* * *

Oxox

_a/n: As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	87. Chapter 84 January 14th, 2010

**Chapter 84 ~ January 14****th****, 2010 (Thursday)**

It was early, even by Goblin standards as the distinct click of her boots and interspersed walking cane echoed across the eerily empty cavernous room of Gringotts; even though in less than two hours, there would be hundreds of wizards and witches conducting business within these very walls.

She veered along the quiet corridor, the flames flickering across the pearly marble until she was knocking on the partially closed door that housed the Administrator of this prestigious institute.

"Enter." Came the familiar, harspy voice.

"Thank you for seeing me at this hour, Griphook." Minerva stated as she entered.

"Ahhh, Minerva," he pulled his glass off as he stood and extended his hand, "from your letter I recognized a hint of urgency."

"After a fashion." Minerva reached into her cloak and withdrew a large bundle of parchment, "As I need a third party, unbiased witness to verify the contents, my signature and seal."

Griphook took the packet, knowing from the girth along with her statement what was contained within – her last will and testament. "And the previous one?"

"Null and void."

Griphook set the pile upon his desk, and turned behind him while adorning his glasses. "Do not take offense Minerva, but I have three questions I have need to ask."

Minerva heard him spin the dial, while uttering a series of soft words – undoubtedly incantations that released the lock mechanism. "I'd expect nothing less."

"The date your family opened the vault and the name?"

"241, M. McGonagall." Minerva cocked a brow, a familiar series of questions being traded between them. "Though, I'd have figured after all these years, you would have ascertained his or her first name."

"And I'd have thought it would be held within the annals of your famed Manor."

"You know as well as I, the current Manor was not built until the mid-fourth century."

Griphook finally turned around, fingers deftly untying the leather cord that held a parcel. "The core to Meric's wand?"

"Unicorn hair."

"And the name of my daughter's killer?"

"Johannes."

"Your previous will." Griphook extended his hand outward, Minerva sighed at the aging parchment – one that was exceedingly different than the one she had finished this morning. She untied the small cord holding it together, and it fell open…the top page designating the inheritance to the various estates, and she felt her heart clench at the sight of Esmerele's faded name. Some days, it didn't feel as though much time had truly passed; like today. She let her fingers drift across the page, remembering how soft her skin had been and she pushed the notion aside. With two waves of her hand, she banished the protective spell and with another wave it fluttered into the fireplace and almost instantly turned to ash.

"I'd have thought you would have merely updated it."

"A long time has passed and…" her voice softened, "much has changed, it was easier to start from the beginning."

"Very well." He opened the document, eyes beginning to scan the content and at seeing some obvious alterations, black beady eyes glanced up in mild shock. "You are sure of this?"

"Do to the nature of my will, it shall remain fully undisclosed."

"Then you do not mean to collapse your vaults?"

"What is a full accounting of Hermione Granger's vault?"

"Minerva, you know I cannot disclose…"

Her brow arched, "We are both too old and time too short for such nonsense. Is she capable of maintaining the Manor and the hefty expenses associated with it?"

"Her account will not, her primary funds have gained since beginning at Hogwarts." He shifted, "Perhaps in a few years."

"Then reallocate the necessary funds into a subsidiary account to maintain the Manor."

Griphook stretched out his weathered hand, easily taking his quill and began to make slight modifications. Time passed quickly and as they spoke, he couldn't help but wonder if the paperwork he received from Adam that he was to deliver to the woman opposite would ever be seen. Because, from her inferences, Minerva believed she be dead within three months; and the letter was to go to her in just under.

Oxox

Pomona diverted from her usual seat, tipping her head to her husband as she passed him and another handful of steps was pulling the chair out next to Hermione. Partially dull eyes glanced up and with a wane smile bid her good morning.

"It is good to see you." Pomona reached for her glass.

"And you." Hermione took another bite of toast.

"Are the children still here?"

"They grudgingly went with Molly after the funeral yesterday, as I could not ask Minerva to help one more night." Her eyes glanced to where the Headmistress would normally sit. "She looked exhausted yesterday morning."

Pomona poured some coffee, "She has been rather busy the last few days."

"When is she not?"

The corners of Pomona's eyes crinkled, "Too true." But she also knew that Minerva had been anything but well since the incident from the weekend. While Filius hadn't told her specifics, she had seen the worry and mounting pressure in his eyes following Helena's departure and knew that Minerva's welfare was rapidly waning. "Though, she wouldn't have done what she did without reason, she never does."

"But she needs to slow down." Hermione gently said as Pomona scooped some quiche onto her plate.

"Inevitably, she will." Pomona carefully replied, "However, in the interim I believe she, along with the rest of the staff are slightly more concerned with your welfare."

"I'll be alright, you nor the Headmistress need to worry."

"Concern does not constitute worry."

"Nor worry, concern." Hermione rebuked, "However, I do thank you, Pomona…" her voice lifting up, "_all_ of you, but I will be fine." Her gaze meeting that of several of the professors, some of whom had been able to attend her mother's funeral yesterday afternoon in support. Hundreds of persons had attended, friends of the family and community who knew Jean, and her friends and colleagues. However, the one person she had really hoped would be there, hadn't been – as she was covering _her_ classes.

She had known that Minerva had been slated to cover her sixth year classes, but it hadn't meant that she couldn't hope that somehow Minerva would be there as she always managed to be. It would have been a welcome surprise, but obviously it had been a futile one.

Breakfast passed with little more conversation, Hermione was content to listen to the on-goings of the world around her; mind drifting between her father, children, Hogwarts and finally settling on Minerva.

With everything else going on, she hadn't been able to see Minerva since she returned to Hogwarts in the morning to pick up the children – yesterday morning. She had looked, tired – and that was with the glamours, so goodness knew how she truly looked. And that _did_ worry her, greatly. To the point that while she wasn't fully prepared to be back today, she had passed word through Filius that she'd conduct her classes knowing that Minerva couldn't continue as she had been.

She'd take the weekend to finish sorting out her parent's estate and plan for her father's release; but she had time. As he wasn't slated to leave St. Mungos for another week. And truthfully, it was good to get back in to her routine. It was forcing her to do something other than worry about her father or dwell on her mother.

Bidding Pomona and the other teachers a good day, she leisurely made her way to her classroom. She opened the door, eyes glancing about the room and despite her absence, nothing had changed. Not that she believed it would, as it probably hadn't changed much in centuries, but there was another layer of comfort as she met the stark orderliness of the Transfiguration classroom. With short strides, she was standing beside her desk; scanning the piles of parchment – all of which, had been graded. She pulled the chair back, expecting to see her lesson plan materialize upon the heart of the desk but was surprised at the soft yellow rose lain upon a folded note.

She picked up the rose, feeling the freshening spell dissipate as a smile immediately adorned her lips, as there would only be one person who would do such a kind gesture. She took in a deep breathe, her smile widening as she opened the parchment while twirling the rose in her left hand.

_Hermione,_

_The papers upon the desk have been graded, only yesterdays essays have not. I enjoyed your children's company, and hope your first day back is relatively uneventful._

_ Minerva_

Xoxo

"Mother…"

Elgin instantly appeared beside the desk, "Madame Tessa, the Mistress is currently unavailable."

Tessa's lips pinched as her eyes slid down to the stately messenger, "Hogwarts again?"

Elgin kept his face poised and eyes relatively emotionless, knowing that the Mistress was taking care of her personal estate having not returned from Gringotts despite the lateness of the morning. However, that was not for the Mistress' daughter to know. "Would you care to leave a message?"

Blue eyes darted to her father's portrait, "Would you _remind_ mother that Malcolm's birthday is _today_, and I would appreciate it if she can slate some time to grace us with her presence this evening." She reached behind her to grab some floo powder.

"Minerva has been planning on coming to dinner." Albus serenely answered.

"How good of her to let me know."

"She sent out a letter a week tomorrow." Albus continued on, "As she asked Tily if I am not mistaken to hand deliver it to _you_."

"She still could have fire called this morning…"

The fire's roar caused Tessa to turn, and Minerva stepped from the floo network, brow instantly arching at her daughter. "Is everything well, dear?"

Elgin went to open his mouth but one glance told him all he needed to know, as Tessa instantly answered and he vanished in a wisp of smoke; but not before a quiet snap and banishing the soot from the Mistress' robes.

"You are still planning on coming this evening?" Tessa asked, wondering how her mother had managed to wandlessly banish the soot without so much as a hand motion.

And Minerva felt a wave of…emotion stem from her bond, her eyes inadvertently darting to her husband. She could see and feel that something wasn't quite right, and she pulled upon the bond – the rush intensifying, and she was able to ascertain why Tessa had truly come based upon the interplay upon their bond. Tessa was feeling…neglected. "Absolutely," Minerva genuinely replied, "and I had extended the invitation to Rory's new friend per both your and Percival's request."

"Do you think he'll come?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"And you won't tell Percival and I?"

"That is up to your Uncle, not I."

"I swear that the only thing you keep closer to you is Helena and Hogwart's secrets."

"Perhaps." Minerva slipped from her cloak, moving past her daughter to put it away, "Is 5:30 still amenable?"

"If you could wait until 6:00 so the children will be finished with their lessons."

"I could come early and assist them if you have need to finalize anything before the guests arrive.

Tessa shook her head, "6:00 will be fine, their tutor is with them."

Minerva inwardly sighed as she hung her cloak upon the coat stand, and forced a smile upon her face as Albus tried to soothe the sting from their daughter's words. "6:00 it is then. I'll bring the wine and was there anything else?"

"Perhaps two bottles of cognac for after dinner."

Minerva nodded, "Of course."

Tessa motioned to her hip, "You seem to be moving slightly better. Is that from the treatment Helena spoke of?"

"Partially," Minerva relayed not wishing to delve into what she had resorted to, "I'm hoping it holds."

"And the whole business with Hogwarts, have you reconsidered?"

"I'm contemplating it."

Tessa's face darkened, "Contemplating it? Mother, your magic is…only a tenth of what it once was and getting weaker by the…"

Minerva held up her hand as the gargoyle activated, "I'm afraid that this conversation will have to hold."

"As with everything else regarding our family," Tessa snapped her wrist, the floo powder traveling across the expanse and the flames morphing into a haze of green, "always playing second fiddle to Hogwarts."

Minerva's irritation matched Albus' as she flexed her hand, not willing to let the comment pass. Not today, and not after she was having to give up so much for _her_ family and always had. She extinguished the fire in its entirety, causing Tessa the edge of her robes to become blackened; which matched her sudden ill mood.

"Mother, how dare…!"

A streak of red flashed through emerald orbs, "Our family has _always_ come first. And before you counter my statement, think _very_ hard about your life and if you still have doubts speak to your Aunt and Uncles." Minerva hadn't even closed her mouth before brandishing her wand in an arc, and Tessa's body was forced backwards as the green flames sprung to life…

…and Hermione blinked again, disbelieving. "I hope that wasn't one of the Governors." Hermione quipped as Minerva turned to see _who_ had entered her office, and she was rewarded with a hint of a smile.

"I do believe if it had been, the repercussions would be much shorter lived." Minerva replied as she tucked her wand into her robe.

Hermione could tell that whoever Minerva had literally shoed from her office, had greatly disturbed her. It wasn't difficult to guess who the previous guest had been, "Tessa?"

"A lovely precursor to dinner," Minerva sighed, trying to focus on her _current_ occupant and not the previous one. "How are classes going?"

"Well…mostly," Hermione redirected the conversation back to her daughter, "dinner?"

"Huh?" Minerva glanced to Hermione, "No, I'm afraid I have plans."

"No, I was…" Hermione chuckled, causing Minerva to frown, "asking about your dinner with Tessa."

"I didn't say..." she held up her hand, "don't answer," she muttered as she turned away from Hermione's concerned gaze. She needed a moment to re-balance.

Hermione crossed the handful of steps and placed her hands gently upon Minerva's shoulders, "What happened?"

A heavy sigh slipped from Minerva's lips as her shoulders sank, "Nothing abnormal."

"Minerva…" Hermione gently probed, "what did Tessa say?"

She felt a solitary tear slid down her cheek, though she managed to keep her voice steady as she answered the softly spoken question. "Dinner was at 6:00."

"That wasn't what caused you to somehow force her from your office through the floo network." Hermione edged around the side of Minerva and could see the glistening trail; and without thought, she extended her fingers out and brushed the damp trail across surprisingly smooth skin before falling to her side. "Minerva…"

Teary eyes focused on the woman only a half-meter away, "She referenced my lack of priorities, as I continue to place Hogwarts _above_ my family."

Hermione's face blanched, "That's absurd."

"Then perhaps you can go to dinner tonight instead of me," Minerva reached up and gently touched Hermione's shoulder as she blinked the tears back, "and save me from an old argument." She removed her hand, stepping away as she wiped the last of the tears away. "I'm sorry, my dear." She shook her head, "I shouldn't have let it get to me…it's just…" Minerva's jaw rippled as she bit back the words she had intended to say and replaced them with the ones she needed to say, "it's been a long couple of days."

"And for that, I'm sorry. I…not being here, hasn't helped."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear."

"I…"

Her brogue enunciating the word, "_Nothing._ As I said, it is an old argument which merely struck a nerve. Now," emerald eyes scanned still chalky, tired features, "to what do I owe the pleasure as you most certainly had a reason."

"Ahhh…" Hermione fought back the look of chagrin that she knew was ebbing over her face, "merely to say thank you, and see…" she felt foolish for even finishing after learning that Minerva already had plans, "if you would be willing or able…you know what," she shook her head, "never mind. I'll see you at lunch."

Minerva knew the look, the retreat…and while she should have left well enough alone, she couldn't. She cared too much, which was why she shouldn't, but she also knew from experience how difficult it was to move on. "I should be back by just after ten if you are up and willing, perhaps a game of chess."

Brown eyes momentarily widened, at Minerva's remark. She had known. _Of course she had,_ Hermione countered feeling guilty for what she felt was certainly in imposition at this point, as evidenced from Minerva's own heartfelt admission about how long the week had already been. "I'll probably be finishing some grading, perhaps tomorrow?"

Minerva easily read the hesitation mixed with the desire to accept the invitation, "I wouldn't have offered if I felt it was an imposition." Minerva could feel the gargoyle activate again, her gaze shifting to the doorway and back, "If you are up later this evening and wish not to be alone, please ask Godric to see me."

"You've already done so much…" her sentence trailed off as she heard the rumbling of voices on the outside of her office, followed by a successive knock.

"Then perhaps you can regale me with a game of chess to ease the stress from my day," her eyes twinkled, as she called out. "Please enter, Minister," while keeping her gaze fixed upon the younger woman's.

"Ahhh, Minerva…" Arthur, Gawain, and several aurors, including Ron entered, as Arthur's smile became more tender. "Hermione, how are you?"

Hermione watched as Minerva's mask descended, blanketing all but a spark from her eyes; their gaze remaining a moment more before she turned too. "Better, thank you Minister."

Arthur could see the pain buried beneath murky brown eyes, and knew it would take a great deal of time to heal. "Arthur," he corrected, stepping forward and giving his daughter-in-law a hug. "If you have time this weekend, perhaps you can stop by."

Hermione kissed his cheek, "I'll let you know." She whispered before acknowledging the rest of the men who had entered Minerva's office. "Hello, Gawain, Jerry, Simon…Ron." She didn't let her gaze settle upon her ex-husband as she turned to Gawain, "After the conclusion of class today, I'll be by to finish my statement."

Gawain's gaze flickered to Minerva and then back to Hermione, "That won't be necessary, Hermione."

"Excuse me, Sir, to complete the investigation we need _all_ the witnesses statements." Ron stepped forward.

"Professor," Minerva glided forward, "I believe you have class beginning." She motioned for Hermione to leave, ignoring the obvious series of questions littering her face.

"Wait…" Ron turned to Hermione, "why haven't you given your statement about the other night?"

"Mr. Weasley." Gawain gave a subtle shake of his head, "It was good to see you, Hermione."

Ron stepped forward, "Did something happen the other night that you didn't tell me? Is that why you haven't finished the report?"

Hermione's face twisted, "What are you on about, Ron?"

"All reports are due within…"

"That is enough, son." Arthur's voice cutting across Ron's words, "Hermione," he tipped his head, "I believe the Headmistress indicated you had a class beginning."

Hermione opened her mouth, but she could see from both Arthur and Minerva's expression that for the moment her confusion would not be cleared up. "Minister, Headmistress…" and a series of eyes followed the young professor to the door, watching her quietly open and withdraw from the room before any further dialogue continued.

"_I_," Arthur turned to his son, "instructed Gawain to permit Hermione to submit her statement upon her own timeline as Minerva's recount was more than satisfactory."

"But her account does not incorporate how Ginny was injured or the nature as to why they were there."

Gawain turned to the younger wizard, "What motive do you believe your ex-wife or sister's account will reveal regarding Harkiss that the Headmistress' does not?"

"I…" Ron felt his cheeks redden as four pairs of eyes landed upon him, including his father's and McGonagall's. "…" and despite wanting to cave in, he steeled his back and met her piercing gaze. "I am sure your account does not show that _my_ family was in danger because of their association with you. Hermione's, Ginny's or even Carl's will probably indicate that the reason they were at Hermione's parents home was because they were trying to get to _you_."

The rest of the rooms jaws went slack, even Arthur was momentarily at a loss for words at his son's statement. Minerva, however, barely let a second pass before refuting the litany of words by Ronald. "You do me great honor, Mr. Weasley." Minerva's brow began arching, "To be equated as the physical embodiment of Hogwarts, because _that_ is what Harkiss wants – Hogwarts, not its Headmistress. However, as the Headmistress I'm bound to protect it."

While Arthur believed Minerva deftly handled remark, he couldn't…wouldn't let it pass, beginning to wonder _how _many other in his own family believed such nonsense. "Gawain, if you could begin bringing the Headmistress up to speed with our latest finding," he reached over and grasped his son's arm, "I'll rejoin you momentarily." Tipping his head in respect, "Minerva," and he led Ron from the room. The door barely closing behind them, when his red faced son spun to him.

"What, was that about!"

Arthur cast a silencing spell around them before his own temper flared, "That is _exactly _what I am trying to ascertain."

"Ohhh don't tell me you don't believe that Harkiss is signaling out McGonagall and those close to her!"

Arthur felt as if he were at a loss, his anger ebbing away at his son's foolishness. "And all the previous professors and their families who have been killed?" He could see the gears immediately begin turning as he moved on, "Last count was 37 professors, 29 spouses and 21 children. Do you know that she opened up a location upon Hogwarts to house previous professors and their families and is personally underwriting the cost? And early this fall, the attack and death upon the Simmons family was what exactly, a stray acquaintance gone awry? Johannes is trying to press every advantage to gain access to Hogwarts, and yes, one point is Minerva. How can it not be? She has been the Headmistress for thirteen years; its Deputy for almost forty before it, and a Professor before that. The only person whose tenure is close in length is _her_ deputy, Filius whose daughter's home was destroyed two months ago. Thankfully she wasn't there as she is presently out of the country. It does not help Minerva that Johannes used to be her son-in-law, and therefore, he knows her family and closest friends; but it doesn't mean they are targeted more or less than anyone who can gain access to what he wants."

"Then why go after Hermione's parents? Or the children? Even Hermione as she has only been a professor half a year."

"Hermione is a member of the Order _and_ a professor."

"Then why hasn't he come after other Order members?"

"Your mother and I were attacked last week, four days before the more public attack that injured the two aurors." Arthur shared, shocking his youngest son.

"I…why didn't you tell us?"

"Does it change anything other than make people more afraid, no."

"You and mom need to move to protective custody…"

"The only reason we are here is because Harold and Minerva had." He reached out, gently placing his hand atop Ron's shoulder; his voice becoming very gentle. "And stop blaming Minerva for Hermione coming to work at Hogwarts, and all that happened afterwards, including your divorce. You're taking your personal life and transposing it upon her, when she has done nothing to you except try to help and ultimately saved those you love."

xoxo

Gawain glanced up at the gentle knock, a smile adorning his face. "Hermione, a pleasant surprise," he motioned to the seats, "what are you doing here this afternoon?"

Hermione withdrew the thick parchment, a sorrowful expression passing across her features. "I don't want there to be any delays with the investigation."

Gawain set his quill down, gingerly taking the proffered item. "You needn't have brought this today, Hermione." He held up his hand to stop her remark, "And _you_ aren't delaying our investigation as we know who was at your parents' home without your statement. I have had half of the department looking for them."

"It is pertinent to know that my father wasn't home when they arrived, nor when Ginny and I arrived. His arrival is what enabled Ginny to escape."

"Did you indicate what they were seeking in your report?"

"Accessing a particular area of Hogwarts and as I did not have access to it, then helping them obtain Minerva so she could access what they seek. And potentially using my family along with Ginny as leverage to gain Minerva's assistance."

"And why weren't the children able to escape with Ginny?"

"The children let go over her hand at the last moment, and my parents' were forced away by the repercussion from a protego charm deflecting the killing curse."

"And Minerva arrived shortly after that?"

"Yes," Hermione instantly realizing _why_ Gawain hadn't needed her report, feeling foolish that she hadn't realized it before now, "she's submitted a report already?"

"Not a standard one, but she gave a very thorough accounting."

Hermione frowned, "I don't understand how she could have done so without submitting a report?"

Gawain reached into his drawer withdrawing a small vial. "She submitted her memory of the event."

Without thought, she reached for it. "Do you have a pensive I could use?"

Gawain was about to withdraw the memory, but something in Hermione's eyes caused him to stop. "Hermione, this is a confidential submittal. I assured Minerva that only myself and two others would ever see this."

"Please."

He nudged the vial into her waiting fingers, "Then return it to Minerva and ask her, and you can relay that I needn't have it any more."

"I will."

His large hand covered hers as his eyes bored into hers, "Be sure to."

Xoxo

To say that the temptation to watch the memory without asking Minerva was great, was an understatement; but she wouldn't, no matter how much she wished to, without her consent. Her heart pounded in her ears as the staircase reached its destination, the last time she had been here today, she had witnessed an unusual piece of magic – someone being forced back through the floo.

That someone having been her daughter.

A daughter whom she carried a great deal for, but also one which she wasn't exceptionally close to.

Hermione opened the door, eyes casting about the office; figuring Minerva would be behind her desk frantically working until only moments before she had to leave. However, she wasn't there.

"Minerva?" Hermione called out, eyes lifting to her private suite; wondering why the lift had set her off here versus her suite if that was where she was.

A hundred pair of eyes landed upon her, and it was Godric who answered. "She is not within."

"Do you know when she'll return?"

"We are not her keeper." Phinneas replied causing several other portraits to chastise him and Dilys to answer her.

"She is at Hogwarts."

"Will you be kind enough to relay a message?" Her eyes flickered to the large desk, "Or rather, ask her to read a note prior to her leaving for Tessa's?"

oxox

"I didn't think you were staying late this evening?" Gawain said while shoving several rolls of parchment into his satchel.

"I wasn't." Harold remarked eyeing his friend. "However, we cancelled our plans for this evening."

"I hope it wasn't to try and suss out any information from me regarding Renoir."

"I've already read your report." Harold admitted causing a deep frown to furlough Gawain's brow and lips.

"The Minister or one of your Unspeakables?"

"Me." Harold crossed his arms, "And despite what he stated, you should have told me."

"That Renoir planned on mentally breaking her?" Gawain hefted his bag onto his shoulder, "He's locked away in Azkaban, and no longer a threat to Helena or you."

"What of his contacts and where was he going to meet Johannes?"

"He was suppose to take Helena to a lake."

"Did he relay any additional identifying markers?"

"Only that it had an island of rocks."

"How helpful," Harold quipped.

"Almost as much as the bodies stacking up on the other end."

"Has any of the prisoners spoken that were taken during the mess at Hogwarts?"

"No," Gawain and Harold began exiting his office, "they are as cooperative as Renoir. And I refuse to offer reduced sentencing in exchange for assistance."

"And they are in isolation?"

"Each one is, including Renoir." He shrugged, "Not as if that will help with him. He's already out there a bit."

Harold slowed, turning to Gawain. "We've got to catch a break, soon."

"We have, with yours and Minerva's assistance; otherwise, there would be a lot more people who would have been injured or killed."

Unyielding blue eyes seared back, "Gawain, my resources are stretched very thin and Minerva's far thinner."

"As are mine, Harold. But I cannot force someone's cooperation."

oxox

Hermione gasped as she withdrew from the pensive, tears streaking down her face as she tried to calm her pounding heart. To witness what had happened _after_ she had left, how close both Hugo and Minerva had come to being injured or killed had turned her stomach.

Minerva had protected Hugo with her body, hugging him to her chest as if…_he were her son or grandchild. _

She had known that Minerva cared deeply for Rose and Hugo, but the depth of how much she cared had just become glaring apparent.

She loved them.

And from the way Hugo latched upon her, and threw his toy outward, trying to protect her; it was obvious how much he loved her.

The tears came harder at what that would mean to her son and daughter in the next year…to her.

Images of Minerva turning, her son's embrace, the spells flowing around them; the way Minerva's magic countered Douglass' spells – the shield encompassing them as the blackening stretched up her forearms as she continued casting…until the entirety of her arms were black.

And she couldn't help but wonder _how bad Minerva was? _She had never witnessed her forearms blackening upon casting powerful spells, let alone her upper arms. Or had she? And she had never been able to see it because Minerva _always_ wore long sleeved robes and never wore sleeveless ones.

Or was Minerva becoming weaker?

And she recalled the evening from the Huckbar and Minerva's blackened arms, arms that were blacker than the memory…

Her already turned stomach lurched and she sank to the floor, losing the contents of her stomach as a question resonated in her mind.

Was this the ailment that would eventually claim her life next year…as she would one day cast a spell that would burn all of her flesh and kill her?

Oxox

Minerva stood and left the room, needing a moment of solitude while under the pretense of stretching her hip. The evening had been, nothing short of what she expected; borderline disastrous.

Her visit with the children had been short, as they were put to bed shortly after eight; having already eaten before everyone's arrival. Tessa and Malcolm's friends; Terrance and Millie along with Brandon and Sarah, were as usual eloquent and polite…Harold and Helena had sent word that they were unable to attend, no doubt taking a much needed evening off to recoup from the whirlwind of recent events, Rory had been quietly supportive of her and Audrey had tried on numerous occasions to quell her husband's verbal sparring that seemed to flared between her children.

She knew it stemmed from the growing stress being placed upon them and the family, but…

"There ya are, luv." Rory's voice breaking across the stillness.

"Please don't tell me Tessa and Percival are at it again." She said while turning to him, a hint of trepidation mixed with resignation lacing emerald eyes.

"No, but they are about ready to bring the cake out." Rory stepped closer, "Do you have plans tomorrow evening?"

Minerva _wanted_ to say that indeed she did, it was called rest. However, she curbed her statement, "Nothing concrete."

"Care for dinner in the Highlands?"

"I…"

"With George and I." Rory interrupted, grey eyes searching hers. "Just us and _you._"

"I'd be honored." The instantly replied, knowing that for him to cast the invite meant that George had to have agreed – which was a huge step for the younger wizard. "The cottage?"

"He actually suggested the Manor."

"What time?"

"Did you two fall in?" Malcolm called out.

"7:30 so you can finish dinner at Hogwarts?"

"Have you spoken with Bonnie?"

Rory held out his arm, and she easily slipped hers through, "I will after leaving."

"Ask her to prepare the rooms."

"Then you'll stay?"

"Barring any complications from the day." Minerva carefully replied as they glided into the living room.

"Are you sure you two aren't a couple?" Sarah questioned as she leaned back in her chair. Her question causing a light laughter to permeate the air from several members of the family.

"No," Minerva lightly stated, "merely lifelong friends."

Oxox

Minerva's eyes flickered up as the door opened, glancing over the frame of her glasses to see the pale features of Hermione emerge. She could feel the beginnings of a gentle smile pull upon her lips, "Good evening."

"And to you." Hermione strode forward, vial spinning between her fingers and questions swirling at the edge of her tongue. She lifted her hand up, "Thank you."

Minerva easily eyed the container, and found herself setting aside her paper as hesitant fingers returned the memory to her. "You are welcome." She motioned to the chesterfield opposite of her, "Please."

"I…am sure," Hermione took a breath while sitting, "you…"

"Hermione," Minerva reached up taking her glasses off, "just ask."

"Your arms. How often are they burned?"

Minerva breathed an internal sigh of relief_, _"As with my hands, it is contingent upon the volume and complexity of the magic I cast."

"It seems as though your hands and now arms are becoming burnt with greater regularity."

_Ahh…now it comes, _Minerva mused. "They are."

"Is that because you are growing…weaker?"

"It is an indication that I shall have to become more refined in what I do cast as time passes."

"What if you were to engage in a duel with Harkiss?"

"Hermione, I am fine." Minerva replied with far too little ease.

"You aren't." She whispered, "You said so yourself, that you'd be dead within a year."

Perhaps it was the tears brimming in her eyes, the concern etched across her features, the gentleness of her cadence, but Minerva couldn't rebuke the statement. She couldn't offhandedly push it away as she once would have been able to. Instead, she fought to keep her own tears at bay.

Hermione could see the internal struggle flash across previously serene features, and knew whatever was plaguing Minerva; was profound. And that perhaps, Minerva would finally let her in; a spark of hope flared in Hermione's chest. "How severely does it affect you to duel someone?"

Minerva swallowed the bile and met questioning eyes, "It is bothersome, but within the realm of tolerable."

"Minerva…"

"Please, Hermione," Minerva's voice stopping Hermione's, "don't."

It was a simple statement that bordered on a plea that dangled between them.

"I want to help." Hermione stated sincerely reaching outward and taking Minerva's left hand.

"You are." Minerva's brogue thickening as she gently squeezed Hermione's in reassurance before pulling away.

"But if it'll extend your life by not engaging in duels, then the Order needs to look at how to minimize your exposure."

_It's far too late, my dear. _Minerva inwardly answered as a wane smile crossed her face. "I've taken innumerable steps already."

"And what happened at my parents house was what?" Hermione's eyes bore into Minerva's, "Why not have Harold or another come in your stead?"

"Would the outcome have been different if help had not arrived for another two minutes?" Minerva countered. "Because even the swiftness with which I can travel through Hogwarts does not apply to others. And Helena went to the Potter residence versus home. What would you suggest I do differently?"

Despite the gentle timber of her speech the words still stung Hermione, because she didn't want to accept the truth of Minerva's statement; but truly, what else could she have done differently that would have saved not only her, the children, Ginny, her father...and even gave her closure with mother? "But it shouldn't come at a cost to you?"

"There was no cost." _That I was unwilling to bare_, Minerva inwardly finished.

"Your arms."

With feigned ease, Minerva unfastened the three buttons along the bottom of her wrist. Buttons that until a few weeks ago had been for sole purpose of decoration, now had a far to real practical purpose. She pushed up her sleeve, "As you can see, Hermione, I am fine." She rotated her arm to show that the skin along the underside was unmarred as well before pulling her sleeve back down. "You needn't worry about me, my dear. I have greater concern to be worried about _you_."

"I'm fine."

"You just lost your mother," Minerva didn't bother fastening the bothersome buttons as she met Hermione's gaze, "and I am sorry I was unable to attend her funeral."

"I understand…" Hermione swallowed, "Hogwarts and classes, thank you for all that you did to enable me the time I needed to take care of the arrangements."

"Perhaps," Minerva stood, "you are up to a small excursion this evening."

Hermione had been expecting a rebuttal or a simple it was nothing declaration, and found herself staring at Minerva by the seemingly absurd response as confusion flashed across her face, "Its…almost eleven."

"Then the halls shall at the very least be empty." Minerva extended her hand outward.

"I thought," brown eyes flickered to the long fingers stretched out towards her, "we were going to play a game of chess?" she placed her slightly smaller albeit broader hand in Minerva's.

"Perhaps momentarily." Minerva assisted Hermione to stand. "Elgin."

He appeared before Hermione could say another word, "Mistress." He glanced to the younger woman, "Hermione."

"Would you bring a cloak from Hermione's room?"

"At once." He replied as a flash of white and soft pop resonated outward.

"I thought we were going for a walk about Hogwarts."

Minerva was spared from answering as Elgin reappeared with not only Hermione's cloak but hers as well. "Is that be all for the evening?"

Minerva slipped hers on, as she did, she spun away from Hermione and fastened the clasps before turning back around while she donned a pair of gloves and wrapped her scarf about her neck. "To the gates."

Hermione's eyes grew larger, "Minerva, the Tower…I have…" Elgin's magic swirled and cracked, and the rest of Hermione's sentence was finished in the cold crisp air only three meters on the opposite side of Hogwarts fabled gates. "…not asked anyone to watch them."

"We shan't be gone long." Minerva assured her, as Elgin vanished while she placed her hand upon Hermione's arm and calmed her mind; steeling herself for the momentary surge of pain as she let her magic wash over them and in a heartbeat later, apparated from the gates to the eerily quiet sanctum of a small graveyard.

"Where…" Hermione's eyes narrowed, noticing the aged headstones, "are we?"

"My family's plot." Minerva quietly answered. "I cannot imagine what it would like to lose my mother so close to me, having to bear witness to it; and I have to wonder if that is any better than having not seen how she died and having your imagination create a thousand scenarios to how it happened."

"You were never left believing it should have been you that died, and not your mother or father."

"My father was an arthimancer, so for decades I couldn't help but wonder if they did what they did to try and spare Derrick and I."

"The stunners weren't meant for her, Minerva." Hermione turned to her, voice pained. "_They_ were meant for me."

"And if they had struck you, do you believe your mother would be here this evening?"

"Yes…" Hermione whispered as tears sparkled in the moon's faint light, "she would be."

"And what of you?"

"It wouldn't matter."

"Ohh, Hermione," Minerva fought hard to keep the love she felt for the younger woman at bay, "it does matter, my dear."

"She'd be here and I'm sure I would have been fine."

"But it was _you_ who took Jean and you to safety. How would that have been achieved?"

"You'd have found a way." Hermione's voice held a strange note of conviction.

And as much as Minerva _wanted_ to say that yes, she would have found a way; she couldn't lie to Hermione. Not about this. Because, she knew that Hermione _needed _to hear the truth. "I don't know if I would have."

Eyes flashed in disbelief, "I don't believe you." Hermione whispered, "You're just saying that to appease me. I've seen you…the magic you are capable of wielding."

"I do have extensive knowledge in many aspects of magic, yes." Minerva agreed, "But that doesn't mean I'd have been able to save you and Jean, along with Hugo too."

"No…" Hermione shook her head, "no. You'd have found a way."

Minerva felt the Highland cold settle across her soul and still her heart, as she pushed ahead knowing that the words _needed _to be said; but already loathing herself for having to say them. She reached out, grabbing Hermione's upper arm, startling the younger witch as she pointed to the far too familiar headstones, "Like I found a way to save my own brother? My daughter? My son? My grandchild?...My husband?"

"…." Hermione could only stare, aghast at the stones.

Minerva could see the tears falling from brown eyes, and her heart broke for them both. "I wasn't able to save my own family, how in Merlin's beard do you think I'd have been able to save yours?"

The damn within Hermione broke, as she gasped out. "You don't understand," she pulled away, voice rising in pitch as she yelled the last part. "It should have been me!"

"No…" Minerva began…

"And you'd have saved me!" Hermione snapped. "I know it."

"I wouldn't have been able to save all three of you."

"But my mother would still be alive."

"No, Hermione." Minerva's lilt lacing every syllable, "I would have saved Hugo, then you and then your mother."

Brown locks flung from side to side, "No…"

Minerva said reaching out and drawing Hermione into her embrace, "I'd have saved you before her."

Hermione struck Minerva's chest as she continued shaking her head, but the long arms wrapped around her remained – keeping her locked against the solid warmth. "No…"

"Because any mother," Minerva's voice barely reaching Hermione's ears, "would prefer their own death than that of their child's."

"…it still should have been me…" Hermione gasped as her body finally sunk into the solid warmth of the other woman.

"It should have been," Minerva finished in a whisper of Gaelic that Hermione's soft cries muffled the noise, "_but I'm glad it wasn't_."

oxox

_A/N: We are approaching the 2 ½ year mark, and (fortunately or unfortunately depending on how you look at it) we still have a ways to go; but I just wanted to say THANK YOU for those of you who have stuck with this epic ride. I hope you continue to enjoy and really appreciate your continued support._


	88. Chapter 85 January 15th, 2010

_a/n: I know...I know...you are looking at your email and thinking... "Whut?" "That can't be right." "Another update, already?" But due to a confluence of events (namely I called in for two days & was a complete and utter bum - save for what's below) an update happened to get finished. So, as always, enjoy!_**  
**

**Chapter 85 ~ January 15****th****, 2010 (Friday)**

Hermione sat up, eyes trying to adjust to the black room that shafts of moonlight spilled into as a whimper similar to the one that had jerked her awake sounded. Narrowing her eyes, she turned…and saw long dark hair splayed out over the covers as the slender body flexed in time with another whimper.

As she reached out, her mind slowly processed her whereabouts – Minerva's bedroom. She couldn't remember why she was here, as she laid her hand upon Minerva's covered shoulder, "Minerva…" Her voice sounding, hoarse even to her own ears as she blinked her eyes again, trying to awaken enough to help the woman who had helped her last night. She felt Minerva's body shudder and was about to say her name again when a hand clamped atop her own as Minerva's body suddenly went still and she could hear the heavy breaths coming from her. "Are you alright?"

"Just…" Minerva swallowed as she tried to quell her rapidly beating heart, "bad dreams."

"I thought they had waned." Hermione shifted, eyes already becoming heavy as she laid back down, hand still resting upon Minerva's shoulder.

"They're less." Minerva answered, thankful for the quiet comfort.

"So they only wake you every other night?" Hermione quipped into the blackness.

"Every third," Minerva admitted as she patted Hermione's hand before sliding away.

"Please don't tell me its time to get up." Hermione tiredly moaned, "I'm exhausted."

"No," Minerva flipped the covers over and palmed her walking cane, "not for a few more hours."

"Then why are you?"

"I'll be back," Minerva replied before leaving Hermione alone.

Hermione pondered how she had gotten _here_, in Minerva's bed…and found that she recalled very little after returning to Hogwarts. Several minutes passed, and she was on the verge of falling back asleep when the door quietly opened and she heard Minerva re-enter her bedroom. And while she was curious as to why she was here, she didn't have the energy to care at the moment; she was too comfortable. "You alright…?" Hermione mumbled into her pillow.

Minerva set her walking cane next to the bed and gingerly took another two steps before settling upon the bed, "I'm fine – just treating my hip." She used her arms to pull her lower body up before sliding beneath the covers, "Get some sleep, Hermione."

"Hmmmm…" Hermione muttered, "you too."

Minerva adjusted her leg, easing the pressure upon her hip as her eyes adjusted to the low lighting; her animagus traits enabling her to see the woman just out of hands reach. Her soft breaths, relaxed muscles, plush lips and Minerva closed her eyes, not permitting herself to continue looking. It was hard enough to be there for her with the kindle of desire simmering always beneath the surface with growing feelings…and the love she felt for her.

She could feel the cool tear wet her pillow at what else she was couldn't have, she felt her bond to Albus pulse…and the tears flowed harder.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione stretched as her eyes adjusted to the soft light turned on beside far side of the bed, noticing that Minerva had left. From the faint sound of water coming, she was fairly certain that Minerva was within the bathroom.

_Minerva._

The mere thought of the woman beyond, easily brought a smile to her lips. She was so…eloquent? Passionate? Everything you could imagine wanting in the person you loved, and more...

Her smile partially faded at the troubling thought.

She liked Minerva – how could she not? She was engaging, mentally stimulating, well read…had a library that Flourish and Blotts would die for, was a good friend…

_Who I also find attractive._ And again, Hermione berated herself; because it wasn't just the physical attraction, as Minerva was timelessly beautiful. She normally wore clothing that hid her long lines and slender frame; but she had born witness to a handful of occasions that Minerva wore articles of clothing that accentuated her physique…and she could only hope that at Minerva's age, she looked as good. But it was more than the physical…there was _just_ something about her. An allure that made Hermione _want _more…

Did that make it love?

She absently shook her head at the notion.

_No._

_ Definitely not._

_ She couldn't._

_Absolutely couldn't_, her mind yelled as her heart rate increased, _because she's dying._

The door quietly opened, her head and eyes instantly turning and a rush of vanilla and lavender washed over her a moment before her heart stopped and Minerva mutely stepped back into the room. Her hair was spun up on her head, a handful of wet strands hanging against pink skin heated undoubtedly from the shower, the thick robe partially gaping along her neckline to show the barest swell of her breast…and Hermione yanked her gaze back to Minerva's face just as emerald eyes scanned across the bed to see that she was indeed awake.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Minerva's lilt unusually prevalent as she tried not to shift subconsciously under Hermione's warm gaze. _Don't do anything other than you would normally do, _Minerva thought as she forced herself to pick up her wand and glasses and not adjust her robe. _She's your friend…like Helena…_Minerva continued on, picking up her walking cane.

"You didn't…" Hermione rasped, clearing her throat. "What time is it?"

"Just after five." Minerva replied as she turned off the light, "I'll wake you shortly."

"I'm…up." Hermione murmured stretching, feeling both rested and fatigued as she reached over and turned on the light beside her. "If I go back to sleep now, I'll be exhausted the rest of the day."

Minerva paused beside the bed, "Coffee?"

Brown eyes sparkled, "Would love some."

Minerva didn't comment and continued out into the living space, leaving her once again alone. Hermione turned her face into the pillow. "Love some?" she groaned before rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. "What am I doing?"

* * *

_oxox_

* * *

Hermione shouldn't have been surprised, but she couldn't help wonder when and how Minerva had managed to change into her standard robes in the short time since she left her bedroom. Her hair was still spun up in a towel, glasses perched on her nose as she gazed at the small parchment within her hand.

"Your morning report?" Hermione inquired as she tucked her leg beneath her, fingers wandlessly summoning the already poured cup of coffee; eyes moving to the dainty house elf, _Tily _she believed was her name.

"I'd rather switch the meals and have a new supply delivered this evening with the weekends dairy supply; and please ask Erand to wait until _after_ the children have gone to bed."

Tily nodded, "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you." Minerva answered as she reached up to remove her glasses, "and yes, it was, Hermione."

"Please tell me there wasn't anything on there from Gryffindor Tower." Hermione shifted, head momentarily resting on the back of the cushion.

"Nothing out of the ordinary was noted."

Sitting up, she swallowed her personal discomfort as it had nothing to do with the woman before her; just her own ruminations and feelings regarding her. Feelings were not only foolish in their inception but in their persistence; as Minerva was not only dying, she would never be interested in her. She had to do something _before_ she did something asinine and infinitely regrettable. "Thank you," Hermione waited until emerald eyes lifted up and met hers, "for last night."

Minerva gave a slight nod, "No thanks is needed, but you're welcome."

Hermione stretched her arm out over the back of the chesterfield, fingers draped over the edge and perked upon her knee; "Yesterday, the Ministry business was that about my parents?"

"Partially," Minerva reached forward, grasping the coffee pot and pouring herself a second cup, "and also a consultation regarding if the borders need to be closed."

Hermione felt her spine incrementally straighten, "And?"

"I'm comfortable with leaving them open for the time, as the problem remains localized."

"Hogwarts."

"Along with its previous and current professors." Minerva added as she sat back into the furniture.

"And the issue with my parents?"

Minerva hadn't spoken to Hermione and hoped that she would not take offense to what had already been agreed upon by the Ministry. "I had Jean and Carl's belongings sent to me until you or they were ready."

The scant amount of color drained from Hermione's face, "What?"

"The house was not salvageable."

"So the contents…"

"Gawain delivered them Tuesday evening."

Hermione felt her pulse sped up, "Today's Friday."

"And they have not been touched."

"What right do you have to ask for such things?" Both feet were braced on the floor, eyes having turned molten in anger. "Just because you are the Headmistress, doesn't mean you can circumvent the law."

Minerva didn't waver, exuding her usual calm demeanor as she took another sip of coffee before answering, "I apologize for interfering Hermione, did you then make ancillary arrangements regarding their affairs that were different?"

Hermione's jaw flexed, "That's not the point."

"Would you rather the effects had gone to Ronald?"

"Minerva, you still should have asked."

Minerva leaned incrementally forward, "True." Her eyes narrowing as her lilt stretched between them, "But would you have been able to listen?"

The last of the burst of anger ebbed from already tired muscles, "No," she conceded. "It's…that is my parents things."

"And would you have preferred they sit and be subjected to theft?"

"What if the Ministry missed something?"

"Helena, Harold and I went there Tuesday evening to ensure that the Ministry didn't leave anything before destroying the structure Wednesday morning."

Hermione's next comment hanging absently on her lips as she stared at the woman opposite, _how can I not love her?_

Minerva continued on, figuring the lack of speech was a positive sign. "We were able to repair a few pieces of furniture and glassware, but I'm afraid that some pieces were past the point of salvaging."

"Thank…you." Hermione's cadence coming out in barely a whisper as a chagrined expression passed over her features, "I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Then let us move on," Minerva gently smiled, "shall we?"

"Without you, I'd have lost most if not all of my family."

"Consider it a selfish motivation, as I'd be forced to teach on top of my already strained workload."

Despite the smile, Hermione's face became serious. "Minerva, is there anything I can do to repay what you did and continue to do for me? Something to help ease the next several months, please, let me help…"

"You already are, my dear." Minerva gently whispered as a tender smile crinkled the corners of her eyes.

"But I'm not doing anything…"

"Trust me, Hermione, you are."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione ran a hand through her unruly hair as she quickly scratched across the ream of parchment, eyes scanning the text upon the table as her computer repeated the phrase – again.

She absently repeated it, while shoving a few more books aside and pulling the stout text closer. It was a Gaelic text on marriage throughout the last two millennia; published in 1889c.

"That isn't it." She muttered as she scanned the phrase again, and stretched her hand out and struck the key to repeat the phrase in Gaelic as her eyes scanned the text at the same time.

"Damn." She muttered as she lifted her wine glass up; the light sparkling off the liquid before she taking a hefty swallow. "Milksy," she called out as she flipped the text back several more pages.

"Yes, Miss Hermione's?"

Brown eyes darted to yellow ones, "Are you sure there isn't an English version of a marriage text for Scotland?"

"Of course," Milksy nodded.

The quill fell from Hermione's fingers, exasperation lacing her face. "Why didn't you bring me those?"

"You did not ask." Milksy's simple statement causing a groan to slip from Hermione's lips.

"Let's assume that I wouldn't mind reading them, can you bring them here?"

Milksy frowned pointing to the grey book, "Why you'se wanting them when you have _that _one?"

"I don't read Gaelic and can barely speak it."

"Then why did you ask for it?"

Had the circumstances been different, Hermione was sure she would have laughed. That is of course, if she wasn't the one sitting where she was now. "I'm trying to find the meaning to the words beneath Minerva and Dumbledore's portrait. I'm guessing they are some type of a betrothal."

"The passage is not of marriage betrothal."

Brown eyes flashed to the aged tomb and back, "Where would I _find_ something referencing that particular passage?"

"There." Milksy pointed back to the book and Hermione groaned.

"Really?"

Milksy nodded her head, "Yes, Miss."

She reached out, fingers pulling the book closer. "Then start reading or I'll not have this finished for a year."

"I…" eyes grew large, "cannot."

Hermione stopped, and looked at the diminutive elf. "I thought you could read Gaelic?"

"I can," she answered simply.

"Then, why can't you…" her eyes furloughed, "or rather you can but aren't permitted to read it aloud?"

"You'se will have to ask Madame Bonnie or Master Elgin."

"Then can you ask Bonnie to come here?"

"Of course." Milksy replied and with a crack was gone.

"Nothing regarding Minerva…is _ever_ easy." Hermione muttered as she gazed at the worn tomb. "And what is in _you_ that matters?"

"You asked for me?" Bonnie asked startling Hermione.

Her frown deepened, "Can you translate this for me?" she asked without preamble.

Bonnie's eyes scanned the title before returning Hermione's gaze. "I can, but am unable." Came her succinct reply.

"Why?"

"You are close, Hermione." Bonnie reached out, laying her hand atop Hermione's forearm. "So close, and a part of me wishes to be able to assist you, but I am afraid that you shall have to discover the answers you seek. Not I."

"I'm just asking for a translation."

"Then ask _someone_ else who speaks Gaelic, as I cannot."

"I don't understand why there is need for secrecy."

"And there are _other_ ways to discover what you seek, as _that_ is still only one component."

"Dammit!" Hermione snapped utterly frustrated as she pulled away, "please, Bonnie. Tell me what is so damn important!"

Golden eyes remained, but slowly as the seconds passed, a soul chilling sorrow filled them until tears were brimming against the lashes. "I cannot, Hermione."

"If it's about her health…I know she's…"

Bonnie blinked, and tear fell down her cheek as she quietly interjected. "Remember what is and always has been important to her, Hermione."

"Her family."

"She will do _anything _for them." Golden eyes glistened, "Never doubt that."

* * *

xoxox

* * *

"Do ya promise not ta leave?" Rory asked with a quirk of his brow.

"I haven't yet." George quipped at his lover, and felt a blush heat his neck and cheeks as Rory leaned over and kissed him lightly.

"Aye," Rory whispered, "that's what scares me." He straightened up, "Ya havena ran off yet."

"Well I very may if you cannea procure another bottle from the cellar."

Rory's face broke into a grin, "I hardly doubt it as you'd ask Bonnie for one."

"Which at this rate would be immeasurably faster." Minerva remarked and Rory merely chuckled as he disappeared down the hall, her fingers twirling the last of her port from earlier.

"How did you two meet?" George asked trying to understand how the woman before him who seemed so incredibly different than his lover could have become friends all those years ago; and how their friendship lasted for eight decades and had morphed into a more sibling interaction.

"My elder brother and his sister." Minerva stated, the memory from long past wrapping around her as she recalled the first time they went to the Wallace home. It had been _so _different. Their home had been comprised of three rooms, two bedrooms and a main living space that also encompassed the kitchen. "He was thirteen and she fourteen," the memory causing a hint of smile, "and due to propriety, he could not call on her without an escort."

George's face lit up, "You were his escort?"

"As was Rory for his sister."

"And they both died in the war with Grindlewald?"

"No," Minerva relayed, "Callum died, but Mia died at the onset of the first war with Voldemort at about the same time as Derrick. And you…and he spoke?"

His voice dropped, "We did and I can't say I understand…Minerva, and I do have a lot of questions, but…I also know that you are the last of his family. And…I'm trying to balance that. However," the blue in his eyes became darker, "why _not_ tell anyone that you won't be here in three months? I don't understand what purpose it'll serve. The Order can try to take Harkiss without you."

"Because he will kill you or whomever tries, George." She finished the last of her drink, "And I didn't spend the last fifteen years protecting those I love to have them die before me because I wished to live a few more weeks."

"The Order, your family…they will never forgive you."

Green eyes sparkled as they pierced blue ones, "Nor would I expect them too. However, they will be alive and that is all that matters."

Slowly George nodded, "I can accept that." He heard Rory's distinct gait, opting to change the topic. "What's máthiar mean?"

Rory answered from the doorway, "Mother. Since when did ya know Gaelic?" He wandlessly banished the cork as Minerva and George met the other's gaze. "George?"

"I don't." George answered, not breaking eye contact with Minerva. "My nephew has a recent affinity for it."

Rory frowned as he banished the residue from the three glasses, "Ohh, I didna realize ya had anyone with roots in the high country." He paused in his movements, "Which nephew, George?" His eyes flicked to Minerva, a sinking feeling pitted in his stomach. "Minerva…?"

"Hugo." Minerva answered without pause. "It would seem that Hermione bought a computer and the necessary components for it to teach Gaelic, and Hugo has been listening."

Rory sat down, grey eyes turning to his sister, "And he has begun calling Hermione máthiar?"

"Rather Minerva." George gratefully took his newly filled glass.

"No…" Rory's eyes widened, a string of Gaelic slipping from his lips. _"I thought you were going to keep your distance?"_

_ "I've tried." _Minerva countered.

_"Mother doesn't sound as though you tried hard enough."_

Emerald eyes began to darken, _"Weren't you the one less than a month ago who said to let myself go and be her friend?"_

_ "Aye, their mother; not the children."_

_ "One tends to bequest the other or have you forgotten that part?"_

_ "Dear heavens, Minerva; what were you thinking?"_

_ "Do you think I planned this?" _her voice rose in pitch,_ "I love her children almost as much as I do Hermione."_

Her admission stole the remainder of his breath and George gazed curiously at the strange, emotional scene before him as Rory gently reached out. "And Albus?"

_"He has become as resigned as I." _

_ "Does she know?"  
_

_ "No, nor will she ever, as I will take it to the grave."_

_ "Minerva…"_ Rory went to admonish but stopped at the tearful expression and set jaw.

_"It is for naught, Rory; as I will be dead within months and am bound to another. And I will not desecrate my vow to Albus, I do love him."_

_ "Surely he will understand…"_

_ "Understand?" _Emerald eyes searched gray, _"I still feel him and he me; Rory. Can you imagine still feeling Derrick while making love to George?" _At his appalled expression, she continued on, _"I thought not."_

_ "There must be something you can do…"_

_ "I wish I knew."_

_ "I'm sorry, love."_ Sincerity lacing both his cadence and features.

Minerva reached down while clearing her throat, "Our apologies George."

George could easily discern that whatever they had just heatedly discussed had been far beyond Hugo calling Minerva máthiar, and while he wished he knew, from their expressions – he doubted he ever would. "You realize that most of the family heard him call you máthiar."

"And he along with Rose asked if they could continue to call me that this last week." Minerva offered.

"And?" Rory prompted.

"Against my better judgment, I agreed."

"Don't take this the wrong way, McG; but Ron will flip when he learns this."

"As will Tessa and Percival."

"How do you say no to two children who were almost killed this past week and lost their grandmother?" Minerva took a hearty sip, "It is a phase for them, nothing more. They do not equate máthiar as mother, but a connotation. And I believe Hugo began calling me máthiar because he feels safe with me after saving him last week."

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Godric paused, glancing up. "The next chapter pertains to the only known account of Merlin's parents."

Hermione rested her glass on her forehead, twirling it against her skin. "Did you know Merlin?" she found herself off-handedly asking.

"In passing, but it is because of him that Hogwarts was built. He appeared as though a simple traveler seeking shelter from the inclimate weather, and while staying with us…solved our problem regarding the wards, creating a magical construct for them to be built off of."

"How so?"

"He provided the alchemist stone needed for the heart."

Despite having ingested a bottle of wine, Hermione's muddled brain easily did the math. "What year did you say this chapter takes place?" she asked wanting to be sure she had heard him correctly.

"Early second century."

"That means he was…over seven hundred years old when you met him."

"I didn't know it was him until much, much later." Godric admitted.

"And the stone…was it a philosopher's stone?"

"After seeing the one crafted by the Flammels, I can confidently say yes."

"So, he gave up his immortality for Hogwarts?"

"In a way, perhaps, but I think…he had been waiting for us to build it."

"There are texts that infer his skill in divination, but that he would know of Hogwarts and be waiting for it to be built so he could give up his philosopher's stone…" A rueful chuckle slipped from her lips, "Right."

Godric let her finish, "You could ask Minerva for my journal and read my account of the event, as it was truly remarkable in not only his timing but he was able to provide."

She couldn't contain her curiosity, "Such as?"

"He brought the leaders of the eight together."

"The eight…" she leaned closer, "you mean the eight magical creatures?"

"Rather their leaders." Godric tipped his head as if he were recalling the memory, "I don't recall another witch or wizard who has ever been welcome in their dwellings as he was."

"You went with him?"

"No," Godric chuckled, "once we surmised what we would need, he left and two weeks later he returned. It was…an interesting afternoon."

"What happened to him?"

"The following morning, he was gone. It wasn't until well into a decade later that Helga discovered the man who had helped us was in effect Merlyn." Godric could see the younger witch trying to ascertain how that occurred, "She was foraging herbs in the forest and unearthed his satchel."

"What was in it?"

"A note asking the family tree be taken to McGonagall Manor."

"You mean the tapestry hanging in Minerva's library…was from Merlyn?"

"There are names before his, but if memory serves they only go back one or two generations so if he did not create it; I venture one of his parents did."

"Was there anything else?"

"Two texts. One appeared to be written in multiple languages; Rowena, Helga and I worked on it for decades before giving up. As the two languages that were known were English and Gaelic; we couldn't decipher the rest as it seemed to be a mix of another 5 languages. You can find that one in Minerva's library."

"And the other?"

"Burned by Helga."

"Why would she burn such an important text?" Hermione asked aghast at the notion.

His body shimmered and with an elegance she equated Rowena to; Helga glided into the frame. "Yes."

"We were discussing Merlyn." Godric stated.

Helga's eyes flicked to the man she was sharing a painting with, "And this couldn't have waited until a more appropriate time?"

Godric cocked his brow, "As though you need to sleep."

"I don't know what help I can be," Helga tried to deflect.

"Why burn the text?"

Eyes flashed before turning once again to Godric, "You swore to never tell a soul."

"And I kept my word."

"Hermione…"

"Is the first person I have spoken to about this since…"

"Minerva."

He shrugged, "Alright, two in almost twelve hundred years isn't bad."

Helga's jaw rippled as she turned back to Hermione, as this conversation was varied from the one they had had with the Headmistress all those years ago. She had been more interested in her lineage, trying to understand; leave it to the woman before her to ask about _the_ book. "It contained information which would lead to far too many questions."

"Was it his journal?"

"Not a daily one, but one delineating out his successes and travels."

"Was there any reference to his wife, children, grandchildren?"

Feeling as though on slightly safer territory, Helga easily recited the facts she knew. "He had three children. The first when he was seventeen. His wife died in childbirth and he raised his daughter; she married at a young age. The second at thirty-three and something happened while his son was but a child, and he did not see him again until his son had children of his own. The third child happened much later, the only reason we know of the time is due to the tapestry; as Merlyn was two hundred and twelve."

"Wow, that is late even for a wizard."

"I believe he carried the philosopher's stone and age was not an issue."

"When you met him, wasn't he…old? White hair, long robes and such that is depicted in muggle lore?"

"No. He looked perhaps middle age, even slightly younger." Helga nodded to Hermione, "He could have passed for being just a bit older than you."

"Then the white hair was a farce?"

"He excelled at transfiguration, and could have easily morphed his hair."

She thought of Minerva's ability to transfigure her body, "What did he look like?"

"Dark brown hair, the ends far lighter from spending time in the sun; deep green eyes and a voice as thick as the Highland air."

"The ladies of Hogwarts thought he was rather becoming," Godric quipped, "overall he had a lean physique, not broad across the chest, but surprisingly tall for the time as he was just beneath six feet."

"Rowena and I were not the only ones watching him, Godric as you well know, Salazar had a keen eye upon him."

"I thought Salazar was married and had children?"

"Oh, he did," Helga's earthy cadence ringing outward, "but he also enjoyed certain proclivities too. Especially those who would not create complications."

"But, you still did not answer why you burnt the text?" Hermione returned to her original question. "Historical information upon one of, if not, the most famous wizard in the world would have been invaluable."

"Embedded in the text, were a handful of letters from his parents."

"And…"

"They were meant for no other."

"Who were you to make that assumption?"

"An heir."

"But to destroy an entire text…"

"Some things, Hermione, are better left unknown." Helga's gaze remained upon Hermione for another minute before bidding them farewell and leaving them to their own ruminations.

Godric wasted no time following Helga's departure, "Did you wish to hear this chapter or move to the next one."

"I…" Hermione downed the rest of her glass in mild shock at Helga's actions, _how could she destroy the text?_ "…think I've heard enough about Merlyn tonight. Move ahead."

Godric's eyes sparkled as she poured herself another drink, "You are sure?"

"Hmm…yeah." She answered while muttering to herself, "A whole book…gone. Damn…"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_a/n: more to follow...soon ;)_


	89. Chapter 86 January 16th, 2010

**Chapter 86 ~ January 16th, 2010 (Saturday)**

Hermione pulled up a chair, solemn and mournful expressions meeting her gaze and she inwardly ground her teeth and nodded back. _This morning is going to be a long morning_, she thought as Neville asked over the temporary lull in conversation.

"Is Harry coming?"

And the wizard's sudden arrival was all the answer required. He glanced about, "Sorry I'm late." He breathed as he shrugged off his cloak, gaze stopping on Hermione.

"How's Ginny this morning?"

"They are going to lift the coma this afternoon," he laid his cloak over the back of his chair, "I was hoping you might have time to stop by."

"We'll be there mate." Ron piped up.

And green eyes lifted, "After the scene last week, you are still not permitted on the trauma ward, Ron."

"I'll speak with Helena, and I'm sure she'll make an exception."

"Not likely." Rory remarked from the far end causing a flurry of glances to shift to him.

"It was a misunderstanding," Ron stated, "so what time, Harry?"

"Three." Harry answered before turning to Hermione, "Do you think you can make it?"

Soft brown eyes twinkled, "I'll be there."

A large grin broke across his face as Arthur, Molly and Harold arrived. "Sorry we're late." Arthur stated as he glanced around, "Helena sent word of Ginny this morning, do you mind if Molly and I come by later?"

"That would be great." Harry said as he shook Arthur's hand.

"Will you be there, dear?" Molly asked Hermione.

"I was planning to be." Hermione stated knowing the basis of Molly's question. "I'll see if Minerva can watch the children for a few hours while we are at St. Mungos."

Rory watched as Molly smiled and nodded at the declaration, while his own niece's brow furloughed, Ron's expression darkened and Percival's seemed quizzical.

"If she can't, I'll stay with them until you are back."

"I know Minerva has meetings with some of the Governors this afternoon." Filius said, "But if the time overlaps, Pomona and I can watch Rose and Hugo for a short time."

The doors opened, two haggard witches striding through. "Our apologies." Minerva said as she un-spun her scarf and Helena veered to the open seat next to her husband. "Harry," a genuine smile touched her eyes, "it seems that Ginerva shall be joining us again soon."

"With luck, this afternoon." Harry replied.

"That is most welcome news." Minerva set her walking cane by her chair, "And as everyone has places they need to be _other_ than here today, I have a short agenda." She felt her leg catch as she sat, her knuckles instantly turning white as an involuntary wince passed over her features while sitting.

"Minerva…are you alright?" Percival asked while placing his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Fine," she feigned a smile while meeting his gaze, "thank you." She turned back to the Order who were staring at her with a mix of concern and worry. "First, as each of you are acutely aware, Johaness continues to expand his followers and those he seeks to obtain information from. I cannot caution each of you enough regarding your personal safety and welfare. I highly recommend any travel be in tandem with another Order member, and if you have not obtained secret keepers for your respective homes, I implore you to do so. Within the last two weeks, we have seen attacks on Helena, Arthur, Molly, Hogwarts, along with Hermione's family, Hermione and Ginerva. He is becoming desperate, and those actions led to dangerous measures."

"I'd just like to thank you Minerva and Harold for having the forethought to have a protective detail watching mum and dad." Charlie stated causing several of the Weasley children's heads to nod.

"And for being there for Hermione and Ginny." Harry said, voice laced with emotion.

"How _did_ you know they were being attacked?" Ron asked, "I mean, you got there so fast."

Rory clamped his hand down on George's leg, keeping his lover sitting. "What is that supposed to mean?" George snapped despite the ironclad grip in his thigh. "You think Minerva planned the attack?"

"This whole year she seems to be one of the first to arrive and…"

Ron's body flew backward into the wall, and while a half dozen wizards had pulled their wand; it was Helena who had cast the spell, her expression as stormy as the winter seas as her chair clanged backward standing rapidly. "_I_ was with her when the news came." She took a marginal step closer, "_I _was the one who asked that she not go."

"Helena…" Minerva's voice breaking across the room as if made of a calming balm, "let him go."

With a flick he slid down, and she turned to her dearest friend. "He," she pointed to the ginger headed man who was picking himself up from the floor, "needs to get control of his mouth, Minerva. First Thursday, to Gawain and Arthur of all people and just now…"

All eyes grew larger, including Hermione's, "What was said on Thursday?"

"Just what everyone is thinking," Ron defended, "that the children and your family was attacked because of your friendship with McGonagall."

"Ah..hell." Harold muttered in conjunction with Rory as their gazes flew to their respective niece and nephew.

The room instantly drown out in a cacophony of shouts and screams; and Minerva felt her world give…just a little as she placed her head in her hands for a moment as she fought back the tears. _Merlin, why can't something be easy?_ She inwardly questioned as her son reputed some foolish slanderous statement.

"Enough." Minerva said, unable to listen to anymore, as she withdrew her hands. But her interjection was drown out…and with a thunderous breathe, she corrected that problem, "ENOUGH!"

"Minerva…"

"McG…"

"Is it true…"

"You can't…"

"Don't…"

The scraping of her chair stopped any further commentary as she stood, eyes ablaze. "Yes, Mr. Weasley, if you will feel more at ease then do, please blame me for the attack upon the Grangers." Her eyes snapped to Hermione's and slowly she shook her head, "Do not bother, Hermione." And with penetrating slowness, she slid her eyes past brown ones and onto the next person and the next, "And to put an end to this sordid affair once and for all – yes, Johannes was my son in law. Yes, he knows who my family is. Yes, they are in danger. As are all the previous and current professors who have tenured at Hogwarts. As are my friends and their families, and anyone else who stands up to him and his delusional belief. While my children feel slighted because they believe I care more for Hogwarts and the wizarding world than I do my own family, because I am not spending time with them." Her eyes stopped as they landed upon her daughter's, "Which couldn't be farther from the truth." She waited until Tessa looked away before slowly moving her gaze to the full table, "As I am, dying." A series of sharp intakes could be heard from around the room, "And haven't time for such minutia anymore, as I'll be dead within a year's time." She palmed her walking cane, "If you'll excuse me, I did not come here today for this."

She turned and began walking from the room, "Is there nothing that can be done for you?" Harry asked.

Minerva paused, head turning to look over her shoulder, "No, Harry. I'm afraid there isn't."

"Is this because…you saved me?"

"No."

"But it didn't help." Tessa remarked causing the entire room to turn their gaze upon her, including her mother. "Ask her."

Slowly green eyes lifted from the middle-aged witch he knew to be her daughter and turned to Minerva, "Is that true?"

"Conducting intense spell work has an adverse effect on my health."

"Then why not leave Hogwarts?" Neville asked.

"I am at the end of the term year." Minerva relayed causing several more faces to blanch. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall see you in two weeks for our dueling re-match."

"Minerva…" It was Helena's voice who stilled her hand upon the doorknob, "what of St. Mungos versus Hogwarts?"

There was an exceptionally long pause, Minerva pushing her walking cane momentarily outward away from her leg before swirling it in a circle for a moment as she pondered Helena's inference. She didn't bother turning around, her voice ringing out, "If you are fortunate or, as Mr. Weasley believes, unfortunate enough to be with me during a duel and I am injured; please take me to Hogwarts for medical treatment."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A strange stillness reverberated through the room as the door shut behind Minerva. Slowly, one by one, all eyes turned to Ron; and he frowned. "What?"

"Leave him be," Hermione's voice cutting across everyone's thoughts, "we'll sort it later."

"There isn't any thing to sort." Ron grabbed the back of the chair.

A group of hushed responses died before reaching his ears, and Harry cleared his throat as he lifted his gaze to that of Helena's, "Is there something that she doesn't wish to do or is there truly nothing to be done?"

"There is nothing," Harold answered, and held up his hand to his wife. "Don't. You are bound by your medical oath. I'm not." His baritone voice ringing out, "She has been dying for over a decade and it has become apparent now how much time she has left."

"You're sure?"

"Quite." Rory's thick accent cutting across the room. "It has been difficult for her family to accept."

"And if she took a more strategic approach and less hands on, would that make _any_ difference in her welfare?"

"I agree Harry, but I also want to respect her opinion." George stated, drawing a few nods. "Ultimately, it's her choice. Not ours. And from what she's said, it sounds as though she's already made it."

Green eyes dropped to that of his friend, "Hermione, you are with her quite often…"

"I don't like it anymore than any one else here," her words thick with emotion, "but George is right. It is her choice."

Harry looked to Arthur, "Can't the Ministry do…something?"

"I've known for about a month, Harry." He admitted, and Hermione realized _what_ had made Arthur so _off_ on Christmas Eve. "She contacted the board of governors and informed the Chairperson and one other as is required under her contract that she would not be returning, and it was due to her health."

"There is nothing to be done, Harry." Helena's voice holding a hint of resignation.

"Well…I guess…till our next meeting." Harry said clearing his throat as he sat down, running a hand into his hair. "I just can't believe it," he whispered.

And Hermione knew exactly how he felt. She reached out, grasping his forearm. "Hey…"

Tearful eyes met hers, "Hey…"

"Whoa…what!" Their heads careened to see what was happening and Ron was backing up to the wall as Charlie, Neville, Angelia, and George approached him. A second layer of Order members of Rory, Percival, the Harrisons and Arthur standing behind them.

"Have you gone absolutely daft?" George asked his brother, "To insinuate that McG would purposefully place another in danger? And that of your own family?"

"At this moment, I'm ashamed to call you brother." Charlie said shaking his head, "The Golden Trio business has gone to your head."

"What if she _hadn't_ helped Hermione? You'd still blame her, just differently. As your entire family, my niece and nephew, would be dead."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Trembling fingers unclasped the leather tie from Eck's leg, "Thank you."

The proud snow owl twirled in response, chirping a few more times as it graciously took the bacon Minerva fed it.

Slitting her son's emblem, she unfolded the note and felt a smile pull at her lips.

_Mom,_

_ If you are up to a quiet dinner, Audrey and I would love to have you over. If not, and you opted to assist in watching Hermione's children, then perhaps breakfast this week._

_ And I thought you, as always, comported yourself well – especially in regards to Mr. Weasley. _

_ Love,_

_ Percival_

Minerva frowned as she re-read the note, _Hermione's children?_ Not that she would mind, but she glanced across her strewn letters and sundry items not seeing a note or letter from Hermione. "What the devil is he talking about?"

She slid a few other papers to ensure she hadn't missed one since returning this afternoon from her meeting with the Governors, but upon seeing the cherry wood of her desk; she stopped. "Godric," she glanced to the Founders portrait and at once, his figure solidified. "Is Hermione here?"

"She left some time ago to go to St. Mungos."

"And were her children with her?"

"They are with Filius."

"Very well." Minerva half-heartedly replied as her gaze dropped back to the papers upon her desk wondering why Hermione hadn't asked her versus Filius. But a sigh eschewed from her lips at the stack of correspondence still waiting to be tended to, she really didn't have the time. Not that she wouldn't make time, especially considering how little she still had left; but perhaps that was why Hermione asked Filius to watch her children. Or perhaps, Hermione felt as her ex-husband did…in that she was getting too close to the children.

Swallowing the ache, she tried to re-focus on the parchment before her…but found the words become blurry from the tears.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Hey…" Ginny tried to smile, her lips cracking.

"Easy, Ginny." Helena said from her other side.

She tried to turn her head, but Harry squeezed her hand, "Just look at me, love."

Tired eyes blinked again, and with effort she incrementally nodded her head.

"Appears as though everything is holding," Helena stated as she read the diagnostics, "No large movements, and I'll have someone in here shortly to assist with food and other essentials."

"Hold…ing?" Ginny rasped, "Where…am I?"

"In St. Mungos." Helena answered, "And you were extremely lucky young lady."

"Don't…feel…so lucky." She murmured as her head lulled, and a memory flashed…her hand clenching Harry's. "Hermione." Pupils dilated as panic poured through her system, "is she alright?"

"I'm here, Ginny." Hermione stepped into view.

"Hugo, Rose?"

"Both fine."

"Your parents?"

"Dad made it."

Teary blue eyes met brown ones, "Ohhh…Hermione." She let go of Harry's hand and waved for her friend, who leaned over and she embraced as well as she was able.

"I'm sorry, Gin." She whispered into her hair, "I'm so sorry that you got hurt."

"We're both alive…" Ginny squeezed, "as are the children, let's count our blessings, huh?"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"They are asleep," Filius stated before Hermione could say a word, "Milksy, took them to their rooms about a half hour ago."

"Any problems?"

"No," Filius stated, biting back a yawn, "and how is Ginerva?"

"She's remaining stable."

"Finally some good news."

"Thank you again for watching the children."

"You're most welcome." Filius' golden eyes smiled, "Now put your feet up and get some rest for the evening."

"I intend to," Hermione replied, "thanks again."

Filius' eyes crinkled and with a final nod he closed the door, and Hermione absently headed towards the staircase. She went to ascend the stairs, but before she realized what she was doing she found herself standing before the gargoyle which was already springing aside to enable her entry.

Indecision pulsed in her veins as she stepped fully inside. It was late, and she was sure Minerva was probably getting ready for bed. She went to turn and leave, but the gargoyle was already grinding towards its destination.

_Stupid, stupid…stupid. _She silently berated as the staircase passed Minerva's office. _She'll wonder why I'm here, and if she was sleeping…_

Any further thought stopped as the lift ground to a halt, and the doorway opened. "I could always just turn around." She muttered while her hand shakily went to the doorknob and with a breath opened it; knowing that while she could have turned around, she didn't _want_ to and therein was the problem.

Her eyes scanned the living space, noticing the lights were all off save for the one Minerva normally left on at night. She stopped herself from moving forward, _enough already_.

But before she could turn around and leave, the bedroom door opened and thought momentarily ceased as Minerva stepped from the room. A long terry cloth robe hugging her moist skin as tendrils of water slid down her neck from her dripping hair.

"Hermione…" Minerva balanced her weight against the door, immediately noticing Hermione's blank expression, "is everything alright?"

"Yes," Hermione answered with a hard swallow and forced her mouth to operate, "I was hoping you'd be up for a game of chess."

Minerva tried not to draw her hand up to cover the deep neckline of her bathrobe, "I'd…" she found herself replying without thought, mind too distracted by the circumstances she was currently in, "be happy to. Though," she inwardly cringed at what she had just agreed to, _so much for a leisure bath and book,_ "if you could give me a half hour."

Hermione heard the hesitation, "It's late, we can play tomorrow and the kids…" The soft touch against her forearm caused her words to falter.

"I'll be up shortly, Hermione. I believe you have a board and pieces and that way if the children wake, you'll be there."

Brown eyes scanned green ones, "You've had as long a day as I, if not more so with the Order…" she found the rest of the sentence and the inference hard to finish, "meeting and all." She finished quietly.

"And could use a calming game after the day I've had too." Minerva tenderly stated.

"You're sure?"

Despite the feeling of breathlessness, Minerva managed to say the solitary word with a semblance of normality, "Yes."

Hermione forced herself to back up as Minerva withdrew her hand, "Alright…then, half hour?"

Minerva turned, "If you could ask Milksy to bring a cup of tea…" Minerva's voice trailing after her as she disappeared into the room, not trusting herself to remain where she had been only moments before.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

She turned on her heel, again; and stopped, realizing what she _had_ just been doing – pacing.

Shaking her head, _why am I nervous?_ She thought casting her eyes towards the coffee table and the already set up chess board; along with two cups, some shortbread and ginger newts, and a pot of steeping tea.

_I've had tea and played chess with her a half dozen times before._ Hermione grabbed this morning's Prophet and sat down; eyes staring blankly at the print on the page – her thoughts remaining rooted upon her soon to be arriving visitor.

_Minerva._

She had so much she wished to discuss with her; and yet, how do you broach the topic that is of most important and of concern which she seemed to blatantly be seeking to ignore. Her impending death? Specifically, the time frame, the cause, and any plausible treatments that might assist her no matter the practicality.

As there had to be _something_ that would help.

There just…

Well…

Had to be.

She lived in a world filled with magic.

The impossible was made possible every day.

She just had to get Minerva to lower her guard further and let her in and tell her what the precise nature of the problem was; and despite Minerva's previous declaration stating that she didn't know – Hermione would bet the whole of her Gringott's account that Minerva knew the cause, she just didn't wish to divulge it for some seemingly pertinent albeit unknown reason.

What could be of such import that she would willingly die or the very least exponentially shorten her life span? What was left that Minerva _hadn't _told her?

And then her thoughts stopped, as did her breath upon the exceedingly short time frame remaining – a year. One. Year. 365 days.

And knowing Minerva, it was probably less than that.

Hermione felt her stomach lurch at the last rumination or rather particular adjective – _less. _

Because, while Minerva was undoubtedly underplaying the severity of her condition, Hermione couldn't help wonder and be, suddenly exceptionally concerned with the very real, very heart stilling notion that she didn't even have a year before Minerva was…well…was…dead.

"The Headmistress is here." Godric's baritone voice intersected her thoughts.

"Ahhh…" Hermione swallowed the ball of cotton down and nodded to no one particular. "Please, let her in, Godric." Hermione stated as she smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles from her robes before standing to greet her visitor. Thankfully, the words slipped automatically from her mouth as Minerva stepped into the room, as her mind was too busy processing Minerva's odd appearance. "Good evening, Minerva." Her hair was draped in a thick plait over her right shoulder; few if any glamour charms adorned her face reveling dark circles and tired, murky emerald eyes; the lack of glamour charms were also evident in the slightness of her thin frame and an imperceptible shake seemed to reside in her fingers making her look, exhausted and…older. Far older than she had ever looked.

"And to you," Minerva said pausing under Hermione's scrutiny, and she dove headlong into the abyss as she had been forced to do the whole of the day, "if seeing me with so few glamour charms is troublesome, perhaps we should play a different night."

"No," Hermione immediately stated, an apology already splaying across her face before she could even give voice to it. "I'm sorry to have made you even momentarily uncomfortable Minerva, that was not my intent. I just…" concern ebbed from the depths of her brown eyes, "are you sure you are up to playing tonight? You look exhausted."

"It has been a long week, and even longer month with no signs of a respite in the foreseeable future." Minerva had drawn to a stop at the edge of the doorway, two meters separating her from Hermione. "I doubt I will be any less exhausted in the coming days."

"Please," Hermione motioned Minerva into her living room, "Minerva, I only want what is best for you. I meant no offense and would love to play a game."

Minerva pondered her statement and with a sigh leveled her gaze onto Hermione, "Let us start this evening anew, shall we?" Brown eyes twinkled and Minerva was rewarded with a slightest of smile, "Good evening, Hermione."

"And to you." Hermione nodded to the chesterfield, "Game is set up in the living room," she moved deeper into the room, "and I had Milksy bring some tea as you had asked."

"How are the children faring?" Minerva inquired genuinely concerned as she slowly entered the living space.

"Hugo is still having problems falling asleep and remaining so."

"If you need any help or if he does, please do not hesitate to ask." Minerva gently eased herself onto the couch.

Hermione edged forward in her seat, pouring two cups of tea. "You have so much going on already, Minerva. And you've done so much for me, my family…" She set the pot down as she tearfully glanced up, "I can't ask you to do anymore."

Her bond rippled as her emotions flared in response, and she felt her gaze falter downward; inwardly cringing at what would be _discussed_ upon returning to her rooms, but it didn't stop her from responding – even if she shouldn't have. "Let me help you…" Minerva forced her gaze back to that of Hermione's, "while I can."

Hermione lifted her hand, head shaking as tears spilled over her lashes, "Please, don't…say that."

"I don't know how much I'll be able to do in six months, let alone three; and it could be moot as Johannes could kill us both next week. But that isn't tonight or tomorrow, or the day after." Minerva reached out laying her hand atop Hermione's, "And so much has happened…"

"It has…" Hermione brokenly whispered, "and thanks to you, I still have my father and children. And I can't…" large tears followed the previous trail, "ask more of you, when you have _so_ much going on in your own life. Between Hogwarts, Johannes, your family, your…illness and all…"

"I wouldn't offer if I didn't wish to." Minerva's contralto purred as a warmth emanated from emerald depths. "So please, stop feeling as though you are imposing," she squeezed the warm flesh, "alright?"

Hermione managed to bob her head as Minerva withdrew her hand, "I'll try."

Minutes quietly passed between them as Hermione started the game, Minerva quickly countering until a small pile of pieces lay between them; the game well underway. They spoke intermittently regarding Ginny, her father, and their respective treatments and length of recovery time for being able to be released from St. Mungos before they lapsed into another gentle lull in conversation.

"How was your meeting with the Governors?" Hermione carefully inquired no longer able to stop her mounting curiosity, wondering if she had told the Board of Governors today too; and while she didn't know if her own emotional index could handle speaking of Minerva's impending death, it would also afford her an opportunity to speak with her regarding it. And perhaps, learn something useful. Because if she didn't do something soon, Minerva wouldn't be here and that…was a notion she couldn't live with at all.

"As productive as the Order meeting this morning." Minerva coyly replied.

"Did they have an opportunity to inquire as to the nature of your illness prior to your departure or were they shocked into silence until after you had returned to Hogwarts?"

Minerva mercilessly took Hermione's bishop with her knight, "They were able to glean as much information as the Order."

Hermione paused in placing her pawn in striking distance of the damnable black knight that Minerva had been using to decimate her defenses as she quietly delved into a knowingly unwelcome realm. "Will you at least…tell me when you were gravelly injured?" She watched as emerald eyes immediately flickered to hers, emotion flashing across her irises before becoming lost behind her impregnable wall as a poignant pause stretched out between them until Hermione tagged on an alternative option, "Or where? By whom?"

Minerva waited until Hermione finally set her piece down before finally engaging the black queen, sweeping down the column and placing either her rook or pawn in peril.

Hermione tilted her head, thoughts divided on the strategy of the game and whether Minerva would answer _any_ of her questions. Reluctantly, she left her rook and moved her pawn onward pressing Minerva to either lose the blasted knight or take her rook.

And Hermione watched as Minerva decisively took the rook, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if it had been planned. She moved ahead, taking the knight and watched as the black queen snapped diagonal back up the board between two of her pawns. She was being demolished from behind, and Hermione moved her bishop to intercede.

But it was the game itself that struck Hermione as it continued quietly on. Or rather the layers of strategy behind it that intrigued Hermione.

Much like the woman, there were layers and layers that at each turn as one was peeled away; only to reveal another and another and another but never truly getting to the heart of what lay beneath.

She had not been willing to probe again after the initial drop, taking her que from Minerva that _this _topic would not be answered. _At least by her,_ Hermione inwardly mused as she lost her second rook.

She had learned _so_ much about the woman opposite of her since this summer and yet – in some respects it was like she hardly knew her.

And she _wanted_ to change that.

And that scared her.

A lot.

How can something so…important seemingly shift overnight? Because she _had_ cared for Minerva for years prior, had always had a vested interest in her, but…now…she just _didn't_ care. Care insinuated that it was a passing thought or perhaps stretched into that of a beloved Uncle or Aunt or perhaps a friend that one sees only rarely now – but one still _cares_ for them. And somehow that care had morphed into something that…well…she still couldn't fully accept but could only be defined as love.

And not the love that one has for a relative or friend; but the love one carries deep within their heart until it slowly touches the soul – the love she had believed she had for Ron.

It tantalized her in stray thoughts, much like the woman herself – thought and deed so close and yet; so far.

Minerva's knight edged closer to her pawn and king; the queen along the far end of the board as was her last bishop, but Hermione knew it was only a matter of time. She would try and stave off the inevitable as she'd perhaps last another five moves and if she was lucky eight.

With that notion, she challenged Minerva's rook with her queen not willing to go down without a fight.

However, Minerva countered by sacrificing her rook as she moved her queen _closer_ – much like her feelings and the remarkable woman before her. She had been growing closer and closer…

Hermione captured the rook.

Minerva finally engaged her king side rook, taking Hermione's last pawn.

She moved her queen back to defend her king; but it, like her heart, was too late.

Minerva checked her king.

She sacrificed her queen.

"Check mate." Minerva's voice sounding almost raspy in the seeming stillness.

Hermione met her marbled gaze, "It would seem." She quietly replied.

Long fingers reached out, grasping her walking cane, "Thank you for the game and momentary respite," she stated while standing.

"Thanks for coming here, and perhaps - if you have time tomorrow, you can stop by and see," the solitary word _me_ wanted to fall from her lips, but she stated what she needed to, "the children."

A wisp of a smile ghosted fatigued features, "I look forward to it."

"I'm sure they won't stop asking Godric when you are coming to visit as soon as they learn of your impending arrival." Hermione remarked as she joined Minerva standing.

"Then perhaps, let it be a surprise."

Hermione watched as some of the edge fell away from stilted walls guarding emerald orbs, "No," Hermione replied, "they have been wanting to see you since they've arrived."

"I'll send word once I'm finished with breakfast at Percival's and see if you and the children have time." Minerva gave a slight nod, "Good night, Hermione."

"I hope you are able to get some sleep," Hermione stated as she leaned forward, returning the marginal embrace.

"And I hope that Hugo sleeps through the night, enabling you to get some rest too." Minerva stated while straightening and with a soft smile, she turned and began striding towards the door.

"It isn't his nightmares that infringe upon my sleep." Hermione admitted as they strode into her den.

"I imagine not." Minerva quietly agreed, "I'd guess it would be your own."

Hermione had opened her mouth prepared to state what Minerva already had and snapped it closed as she continued on.

"And I'm sure that you'll have many more sleepless nights in the coming months and bouts of worry regarding Rose and Hugo." The marbled walls seemed to shatter as flecks of crystal green reflected back, "I know I barely slept for months after I lost Callum; and if you _ever_ need anything, even at three in the morning, ask."

"I…" Minerva's tender touch and heartfelt expression stopped Hermione's words in her throat.

"Ask." Minerva reiterated non-pulsed as she patted her forearm, "Now do try and get some sleep. And I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Minerva."

"And to you." She said reaching out and opening the door, pausing as if in thought as her head turned to the right to gaze over her shoulder, "You know the answer you so desperately seek, Hermione," her burr unnaturally thick as she continued on, "as you were the first person who saw me after the _incident_." She turned back to the hallway, voice becoming distant as she spoke into the darkness, "Instead, I survived only to discover my husband had died."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Wishing each of you a safe & Happy New Year! _

_I could apologize & say that I am sorry & I'll try to do better & update faster; but the truth is – I really don't know how true that would be as I'm updating as fast as I can. I thank each and every one of you who are still reading & enjoying! _


	90. Chapter 87 January 17th, 2010

**Chapter 87 ~ January 17****th****, 2010 (Sunday)**

A mixture of anxiety and trepidation coursed through her veins as she leaned over the pensive, she had recalled the memory; but it had been, well…thirteen years. And so much had happened following Dumbledore's death that she had forgot the brief exchange with Minerva or rather had paid it little credence. After all, Minerva had somehow managed to save her life; she had seemed not quite herself, then again – who was that evening? As there were Death Eaters in Hogwarts' halls.

Stilling her emotions, she delved into the memory; swirls of color, faces, and structures morphed into the familiar second floor corridor where a much younger version of herself was careening her neck backwards as she launched herself into the corridor from the stairs as errant spells struck the wall and suit of armor.

She could see the panic lacing her features as the two Death Eaters followed her, she casting hexes and jinxes over her shoulder; able to see from this vantage how wildly off the mark they had been and how close she had come to being cursed as the bolts struck shadowed footsteps.

She moved farther down the hall, ahead of her younger self; along the edge of the memory – her gaze focused on what she _would _be seeing. And with each labored step that her younger self scampered down the hall, she became that much closer to seeing – hopefully what she had been missing.

_Finally,_ _a piece to the puzzle, _she thought as the long hallway snapped into focus. For a heartbeat, she had thought she would see another person or a body lying just beyond that she had missed before from all the commotion and having just been chased by Death Eaters; but as the blurry green image began forming, there was no body or semblance of a bodily shape behind Minerva.

And she stopped focusing on what wasn't there, her eyes becoming riveted to the temporarily out of focus woman. However, unlike her first recollection of Minerva, where she had been standing next to her; here she was huddled or perhaps sitting as her back was leaning against the wall.

Regal features instantly become more refined, as her younger self had glanced up and noticed Minerva; and she watched as Minerva's head snapped up, and her wand leapt from the stone floor as she stood. _Why had her wand been on the floor? Why was she? Obviously something had happened before her arrival, but what? And against who? Where was the wizard? _However, Hermione's litany of internal questions were momentarily halted as she watched in utter amazement Minerva's spell coalescing as she moved her arm in a sweeping arc, tendrils of multicolored magic licking her wand hand as a spell shot from its tip and even now she could hear the Death Eaters bone-riddling stop.

It had been one of the most profound pieces of magic Hermione had ever witnessed, and while she had seen all manners of magic over the years – it remained in the top ten. However, at this very moment, she could care less.

Her eyes were fastened upon the now clear features of Minerva – and the stark hollowness and broken woman before her took the last of her breath away. Normally clear emerald eyes were now speckled with flecks and rimmed red as two trails of tears had dampened moist cheeks – she could hear herself stating, "Thanks," as she gulped for air and asking what the spell had been as she neared.

Her younger self's eyes flickering back and forth to where the Death Eaters had been summarily stopped and not seeing what had been so plainly obvious before. Anguish laced ashen white regal features that seemed lost as if bordering on an unforeseen precipice. Minerva appeared to be in a world unto her own, as if her mind had been carried away; only leaving the shell of her broken body even as she had called to her – even daring to use her proper name for the first time aloud.

She watched as her slightly smaller hand reached out, touching Minerva's arm…and the way her magic had pulsed outward momentarily engulfing younger fingers. The effect had been instantaneous, and Hermione marveled at the transformation – as Minerva's head instantly tipped to the side and voice clipped in the familiar contralto asking if she had been alright; the color of her skin seemed to flush with a hue other than the verge of death as she recanted the same question just asked.

And Hermione narrowed her eyes at Minerva's odd response, a response that made little more sense now then all those years ago. "Nothing I won't live through, Hermione." She watched Minerva's gaze draw momentarily away, "Come…we need to get to the entry hall at once." And in a turn, black robes swirled and she was striding down the hallway – her younger self scampering to catch up. And in a way, she felt the same now as then; for she was still scampering to catch up – the only question was to what?

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hugo glanced to the swirl of colors in the silver dish, and then back to Rose's room and then back to the colors. He could have sworn he saw a face form before becoming lost and with one final glance back to where his mom and sister was; Hugo leaned forward to get a better look.

The colors rushed past him and he was standing in one of the halls of Hogwarts; the lights flickering and then he heard an explosion – stone pieces flying outward as a girl…

His eyes grew to the size of saucers as he realized it was a younger version of his mom who was jumping from the steps, two dark cloaked persons running after her.

"MOM!" He screeched as she ran past him, spells littering the hall as he tried following. Tears pouring from his eyes as spell after spell was cast at her.

He watched as she slid around the corner, trying to find an ounce of footing and then she was moving forward; he just behind the black robed persons not understanding why they weren't trying to hurt him when they were trying to hurt his mum.

He rounded the corner, stopping as the wizards had; and just felt the tears streak down his face as spells shot towards her back and then their bodies cracked and popped causing his eyes to widen further as they were both struck with a spell.

He snapped his head down the hall, past his mum until they landed on a figure that he'd know anywhere.

"Hugo!" He heard and turned his head, only to find the hallway and the figures vanish in another swirl of color and reform into the very unhappy face of his mother.

"Mum!" He turned and latched onto her chest, "What was that? Those bad men was trying to hurted you and almost did and," he leaned back, "and…"

"I'm fine," Hermione interjected, "that is called a pensive and it enables a person to revisit his or her memory. What you saw is a memory of mine from the end of my sixth year here at Hogwarts when some bad wizards were inside Hogwarts."

Rose glanced from Hugo to her mother, "Why can't I see it too?"

And Hermione inwardly groaned, "I didn't plan on your brother seeing it."

"So I can't?" Rose grumbled, "Because I didn't just do it like Hugo?"

Hugo leaned around his mother, "You isn't madure enough."

"Like you are!" Rose snapped, "You can't even say the word correctly, it's

ma**t**ure anyway!"

"Enough, both of you!" Hermione snapped while setting her son down, "You," she looked directly at her son, "are never to re-enter a pensive without permission. Is that understood?"

Hugo quickly nodded in affirmation.

"Now regarding the memory, it was a memory that I was re-watching this morning – no Rose you will not be seeing it." She held up her forefinger, stopping Rose's commentary. "You and I will watch one that Hugo has not seen." She could see a smug look beginning to form on Rose's face, "But if you gloat, you will not." At once the smile dissipated, "Understood?"

"Yes, mom."

She turned back to her son, "did you see what happened after I rounded the corner?"

Slowly Hugo nodded, "Uh-huh." He moved his arm, "Pow! Pop! Pop! Pop! The wizards' sounded that way," his eyes flashed to his sister, a grin of enthusiasm flashing across his face, "something Máthiar did and it saved mum!"

"Awww, mom can I please see that," she pointed to the pensive, "please? That one?" Brown eyes flashed to her mom and back to the blue ones of her brother, "It was cool?"

Hugo nodded, "Like how she saved me from Meemaw's and Peepaw's."

"It's not fair that you get to see all the cool stuff."

_Ohhh, dear God…_ Hermione thought, "Both of you touch my pants leg and don't let go," she said after coming to stand before the pensive, "above all else, you will listen to me while we are inside the memory; is that understood?"

Both children's heads bobbed as Rose flashed a huge smile at Hugo; and grabbed onto her mother's clothes before the room vanished in a haze of muted colors.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Michael paused before Jayne's desk, noting that she was still sorting through the previous day's reports. "Any clue why I'm here so early, on Sunday?"

"Good morning to you too." Jayne said with a partial glance to him, "And no. She asked to have you come in." It was apparent his words finally registered as her face quirked, "You've worked here for years, I'd thought you would have realized that she rarely realizes what day it is. Because people don't…"

"People don't only get sick or need help during the week." Helena joined and finished stepping out of her office, "Jayne would you mind sending this to the Headmistress?" she handed a sealed letter to her, and then her eyes moved to him. "We need to talk," she motioned to her office.

Michael wasted no time following her in, wondering what in Merlin's beard she wished to speak with him about? Had he botched a diagnosis? Had she received a complaint regarding him? Or perhaps a word of gratitude from someone?

"I am farther behind schedule than I intended since the beginning of the New Year," Helena sat opposite him, "and that includes selecting an apprentice."

All previous thoughts fled, his breathing slowed as his eyes became fixed upon her. He had believed the apprenticeship program had been indefinitely…stalled. "I thought, with everything that happened before the first of the year it had been postponed."

"While I still have a lingering headache…" she held up her hand to stop his interjection, "which is perfectly normal for the type of injury I sustained, I am trying to return to a semblance of pre-Holiday activities and priorities. As was made clear this last three weeks, I am not going to live forever and need to start imparting some of the knowledge I have acquired through the years."

Michael bristled, "Madame Harrison," she shifted, "Helena you are not that old. To speak of such foolishness is…"

"Prudent." Helena reached up, taking her glasses off. "I'll be eighty-eight in March, Michael. If I were a muggle…"

"You aren't. You are one of the most magically inclined witches alive and you are bound. The strength of your magical signature could increase your life by decades; there is no telling what being bound could or would do – especially as Harold is a powerful wizard. There is very little data regarding persons who are bound due to the nature of their relationship and the recent wars."

"As my apprentice you will learn that is not entirely true. There are some texts that I have access to that detail out some of the characteristics, both positive and negative, regarding bonding. However, that'll have to come second. First," she reached beside her desk, withdrawing a thick yellowing file, "you will be reading some medical charts that are, shall I say, extremely classified. Upon reading you'll understand why. Currently I am the only one alive, other than the patient and whom they have chosen to discuss their conditions with now. If something happens to me and I have not passed on the information, the files would just disintegrate; and the knowledge lost."

"Why not place them in the vaults under security for the next Administrator?"

"Because it is not the Administrator who may need to know the truth, as there have been times when the Administrator has been a puppet for another. The files are to be safe guarded from one healer to another."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Blue eyes sparkled with amusement, "Did you not hear me? I have decided to name you as my apprentice."

Eyes widened in shock as the normally gregarious man fumbled for a response.

"Unless you have found a more suitable offer?" Her blond brow arched.

He managed to shake his head, "No, I'd…wow." A roguish smile began widening across his face, "Wow. That's awesome. More than awesome, thank you." He said realizing that he was still sitting across from his boss…well, now…Master. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." Helena finally replied, "There are a few perfunctory details and then you have a fair amount of reading to do between shifts."

"Ahhh, sure. What do you need me to do?"

"Your hand." She said reaching out, "I have known you for many years, Michael; and did not chose my apprentice lightly." She withdrew her wand from the depths of her robes and extended out her left hand. "It is a commitment that will last at least four years and probably closer to seven or eight. Are you willing to make that commitment?"

"Yes."

"Do I have your word that the knowledge that I impart will only be used to heal others and never to harm?" She waved her wand, a spell fluttering over hers and his hand as she rested hers atop his.

"Helena what if a wizard were to go after you or your family, my family…? I have to defend them."

"That is acceptable, but seeking them out afterwards to impart harm is not. And if the wizard or witch that harmed your family were to require treatment, would you give it?"

"I don't know if I would, but…I'd ensure he or she received it."

"That is all that I can ask," she nodded, "Michael Evans I, Helena Harrison, pledge to take you as my apprentice and to teach you to master the art of healing."

Michael felt his throat tighten, "I…" the band of magic glowed about their hands, "Michael Evans, pledge to learn the ancient art of healing and devote myself…" he met blue eyes, "to my mentor, now master, Helena Harrison."

The band of magic pulsed and settled about their hands before dissipating and Helena removed her hand. "When you are done reading this, I'm sure you'll have questions." She slid the file over to him as she stood, "However, while reading these files, they cannot leave my office."

"Of course," he tilted his head to read the penmanship, surprise flickering across his features at the scrawled name, "Flitwick…" eyes flashed to Helena, "as in Filius? The Deputy Headmaster and long tenured Charms professor?"

"As in the very one." She answered while walking around her desk, "While I know you are most curious regarding the Headmistress, there are _others_ whose medical history you will find equally as fascinating."

Michael glanced to the wing-back Winchester seats, "Do you mind?"

"Feel free." Helena strode into her outer area, "Jayne, please draft four letters citing that while their credentials were impeccable, I have chosen another for my apprentice and my best wishes to their future."

Jayne glanced up to Helena, "Then you have a chosen Michael as your apprentice?"

"Yes. Please set the wards accordingly."

Her face brightened, "I shall do so prior to his leaving."

Helena leaned closer, voice dropping proportionally. "Give him a few months, he'll notice you."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No," Hermione stated, "or you will not see Minerva this afternoon."

"But moooooommm…" Hugo whined from the depths of his room, "that's a lot!"

"I am aware." Hermione stated, stopping in front of her son's room. "However, I am not the one who did what he shouldn't have. You are."

His lip puckered, "I didn't know…"

"And you didn't ask," she motioned to his paper, "keep writing."

"It's going to take all day." He muttered while picking up his pencil.

_With luck._ Hermione thought with a half smile as she stepped from his room, "For your safety, and your sister's, you have to ask first."

"…I know…" he said as he copied the word from above and she peeked her head into her daughter's room who was sitting at her desk, copying the sentence with little fanfare. She already had three sheets of parchment lying on the desk.

"These ones are done, mom." Rose proudly pointed to the small stack.

"Great job," she summoned the paper, "How many more lines do you have to write?" she asked as she caught the parchment and flipped it over to read the same two lines re-written dozens of times. _I will not whine or be jealous of my brother. I will learn to share with my brother._

"Lots." Rose stated.

"How many fit on one page?"

"Thirty-seven."

"So, a few more pages then?"

"Yeah." Rose said glancing up to her mom, "I promise I will work on being a bigger sister."

"I know you will." Hermione's statement assuring her daughter in her belief before leaving her children to their lines and enabling her to take care of other matters. "Milksy," she set Rose's lines down, "I'll be back in two hours. They are to finish their lines before being able to play, and if Minerva stops over and they are not done with their lines, they still have to work on them. If you need me I'll be at St. Mungos visiting my father."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Michael paused in his reading and glanced to Helena who had been sitting at her desk for the last hour, reading a variety of reports and sundry other details; "The Wickit lineage died out over three hundred years ago."

"I retested it myself." Helena continued reading as if it was of little relevance.

"The line…" he flipped the page, "you tested his mother and father; and…" he skimmed further down, "was he adopted?"

"Keep reading." Helena replied.

"His markers show that he is one of the foundational markers, his parents are not; making him one of the founders of the lineage." His voice trailed off as his eyes latched onto Helena's, "That's…impossible. Wickit's line is one of the earliest magical bloodlines that is recorded – almost 17 centuries ago."

"19." Helena corrected, "And obviously it is possible, or the original samples in the vaults below are tainted."

"That would mean either he or one of his and Pomona's children traveled or will travel 1900 years into the past…which cannot be done and have survived."

"The next page you'll find tests on both of Filius and Pomona's children."

"I thought they only had a daughter."

"Their son died during the first war. And yes, I'm sure. I performed the autopsy myself. However, their children carried subsequent markers; not foundational ones. Upon further testing, only Filius' carries foundational markers – not Pomona."

"What does…I mean, how is that possible?"

Helena finally glanced up, the sun spread behind her, glinting off her silver frames, "I don't know."

"Have you told him?"

"That he is a foundational marker of the Wickit line?" She shook her head, "No. That he is a descendant, yes."

"But he deserves to know."

"What if telling him alters the time stream?"

Michael's mouth opened, and clamped shut. He hated time with a passion.

"And he or a child of his doesn't return to the past? Our world will be irrevocably different. I gave him the paperwork regarding my findings thirty years ago. He has never asked again. He is also, one of the most brilliant wizards I know, and undoubtedly conducted a fair amount of research coming to the same conclusions. But what do those conclusions mean regarding Pomona? Unless he has a child he is unaware of or aware of that I am not; that was not fathered by Pomona – which may be the case and that is why he has not spoken of it."

He shook his head, "Doubtful. He loves Pomona unequivocally. Perhaps the marker is misdirected because of his paternal great-grandfather."

"Goblin DNA does not cause markers to be off-key."

"How did a goblin and witch, you know have a child?"

"There have been far stranger couplings."

"But rarely do the couplings produce off-spring." Michael countered, "Maybe the marker from the Wickit line was maintained through the Goblin line all these years and…"

"During my time with the Goblins, I conducted a fair amount of research on Filius' great-grandfather. It is noted in the file, but the short answer is no. There are no markers present in the Goblin lineage; as the great grandfather had a Goblin brother and sister, and they offspring of their own. None of the subsequent offspring have any markers to the Wickit line."

"Are all of _your _files…this…in depth?"

"Mostly, yes." Helena's head dropped back to her own reading, "And as unusual."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione watched as her father eased back into the bed, "How do you feel?"

"Like…" he gasped out while lying down, "I just walked the floor."

"I know." Hermione smiled at him, "I was beside you, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he quipped as he closed his eyes, "You kept telling me just a little farther." His facial features twitched in pain, voice becoming thready. "I…can you ask for something to take the edge away."

"I'll be back momentarily," she said standing and squeezing his arm. She stepped from the room, eyes scanning the area for the healer who oversaw this ward; pausing at seeing a hint of emerald pass by and head towards the second floor ancillary ward. _What was Minerva doing here? _She found herself unconsciously following –

"Miss Granger, is your father requiring something?" Healer Daniels asked gazing past her to his room.

"Ahh, something to take the edge off the pain," she answered, eyes darting back down the hallway, noting the lack of emerald.

"If you could tell him I'll be in momentarily."

She felt herself nod, forcing herself to return to her father's rooms.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva sat next to her long time friend, yellow eyes sorrowingly blinking at her as tears dribbled down her temple.

"Helena sent word." Minerva placed her hand atop Rolanda's. "You were lucky."

Rolanda squeezed her fingers back as eyes fluttered close.

"It'll be a few more weeks until the poison fully works through your system, but she thinks by the coming week's end you'll be able to talk."

Incrementally Rolanda nodded, as she tried to lift her hand; Minerva kept her atop preventing it. "No movement, healer's orders."

Eyes blinked open and Minerva felt a smile pull on her lips, "I know. But in this instance, I'm afraid I have to agree with her."

Rolanda tried to move her mouth, only to struggle enough causing a light moan to slip past her lips.

"Easy." Minerva whispered, "easy." Yellow eyes became lost in a sea of tears, "The important thing is that you are alright."

Rolanda pulled Minerva's hand up to a hand's length to above her heart and squeezed; head lulling and Minerva banished the handrail and stood; lying next to Rolanda and holding her – the tears quietly streaming from the broken soul as she drifted back asleep.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Have you spoken with Harold?"

"Only so far as to confirm that there is no stable energy currently capable to transport someone into the past by 19 centuries."

"And if something is developed?"

"He agreed that I would be informed, but only in generalities."

"So you think…that it will be one of his children?"

"I don't know."

"How many generations are between him and the sample in the vault?"

"One."

His face blanched, "Then how can his parents' not be in the original markers?"

"I think it has something to do with time travel. As the only reason his registers is because he is the father of the person whose DNA we have; his birth parents DNA won't register. I've never seen anything like it."

"Would sustained time travel alter the DNA?"

"I have only been able to conduct very limited tests on the persons issued time turners through the Ministry; and so far it has been inconclusive."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The crisp air cut across the air and through his cloak, taking his breath away as he grabbed the base of a spindly oak to enable him to gain another foothold as he continued on his trek. He should have checked the wards two weeks ago despite the extraneous events, at the very least he should have done it last week – he'd have to do something regarding his utter fascination with George.

When the man was around him, he found it difficult to focus on anything else.

Even his family.

And while a short distraction was permissible, if he dallied to long – especially now, he was worried what that would ultimately cost.

Because while he and Aegis would not seek the other out now, when this mess with Johannes was over…

The mere thought easily propelled him to the next handhold.

He was certain that one or the other would finish what had been started all those years ago and his heart momentarily clenched at what that would mean to his life now, and the man who had somehow effortlessly taken the last of his heart and claimed it as his own.

* * *

xoxxo

* * *

"You know," Kane turned in his stool to gaze at the broad shouldered man, "I don't quite understand why you took the position you did." He leaned forward, hair brushing along his shoulders, "Against McGonagall." He twirled his lukewarm pint between his fingers, "That takes something."

Brown eyes lifted to meet the stranger, "She's going to fold when it matters."

Kane chuckled, "Minerva? I thought you had more sense having been Minister and all; but now I understand."

"Are_ you _certain that you do Mr. Tsu?" Kingsley's baritone voice drawing an edge between them, "Yes, I _do_ know who you are." He stated to the mildly shocked man before him, "But do you know what else your famed mentor has been doing?"

Kane met the glare head on, "What you should have been doing, trying to save the wizarding world."

A mournful look passed over normally stoic features, "I wish you were right." He reached into his pocket slinging a handful of coin onto the table, "But when it's all said and done, remember _our_ conversation and know that I will protect the wizarding world."

"You'll not harm her."

"Careful little man." Kingsley patted Kane's shoulder, "While you are flipping and twisting your wand about to transfigure something, like your mentor, I'll have moved on to the next obstacle."

Kane's eyes narrowed as he drew past, "Shacklebolt." He called out causing the wizard to turn, Kane levitated the table and flung it at him. The man's wand was out, splinters of wood flying throughout the room; a loud crack resonated outwards, glass shattering from the percussion…and Kane resolutely walked through the smoke stopping in front of the iron clad bars that surrounded Kingsley – his arms captured in suspended shackles hanging from the bars, nullifying his ability to cast spells. "I'm not little." He said peering through the makeshift prison, as he ran his hand across the bars. "Nor your average obstacle. Something I'd suggest you keep in mind while making plans as I'll be standing in the way of you if they happen to involve Minerva." He walked from the room, the other patrons, bartender and Kingsley watching as he stopped at the edge – his long grey robes fluttering around him, he extended his arm outward and the room watched as his wand morphed into an elegant silver walking cane. There was only one other person Kingsley had ever seen have the capability of transfiguring their wand, and _she_ was not he.

Kane glanced over his shoulder, black hair falling about his angular features. "Do take care Kingsley, I'd hate to meet again." With that, he dropped his cane and out the door. The metallic prison morphing into wood and splintering apart, crumbling to the ground about the previous Minister's feet.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Percival stared at his father, "I thought mother was returning to Hogwarts this morning."

"She had intended to, but she received a letter from Helena and left."

He groaned, "She could barely keep her eyes open this morning at breakfast." And strode from the room leaving his father's portrait to go speak with his wife.

Albus, on the other hand, shimmered and returned to the Head of Hogwarts office trying not to feel worse than he already did.

They had gotten into another row last evening regarding them, their bond – and the ever growing feelings she had towards Hermione.

And the level of comfort that was being derived from her closeness…

The worse part was, he could see their similar passions – understand on one level how they would be drawn to the other; and the energy between them was – infectious.

And he, like she, was trying to maintain their bond – but he could feel her love growing for Hermione.

She swore that she would remain loyal to him; that she would not give into her animagus feelings; that she _wanted_ to remain bound to him once she passed the veil…but he couldn't help the doubt growing in his soul.

How could he?

He felt her…felt how she loved Hermione…

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Ron fought to keep his face unflinching as Gawain stood, "I still don't understand why you are transferring me to third shift."

Gawain paused, "Professional perk."

Ron's brows furloughed as he registered what he stated, "Is this because of McGonagall?"

"If you don't get your head out of wherever it went, third shift will be the least of your problems Weasley. I asked Minister to keep your name off the roster, so the Unspeakable division won't know of your postings; lest they are feeling ornery." Gawain grabbed a set of scrolls, "A bit of professional advice, get your life in order and settle whatever is going on with your ex-wife and don't go spouting off about Minerva. She's taught 80 percent of the Aurors, and has supported this department through generous donations for decades."

He didn't look back…leaving Ron standing there; wondering exactly what had happened to his life.

He was part of the 'golden trio'.

Friends with Harry Potter.

Hero of the war against Voldemort.

Had two beautiful children.

Had been married to Hermione.

And he couldn't reconcile when it had taken such a dreadfully wrong turn.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Ginny's up if you want to see her." Harry nodded back to her room.

"I've been here with my dad, and need to get back the children." She leaned in giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "I'll stop back by later this evening and see her then."

"She just…would love some company."

"Why don't you come up to Hogwarts this evening, have dinner with the children and I?" Hermione said knowing that it was not only Harry that needed and wanted some company.

"Next time." Olive eyes held a hint of regret.

"Then send the children over, so you aren't worrying about them."

He scoffed, "As if you have the time."

"More than you right now." Hermione said supportively, "They can sleep over tonight, and I'll send them home before classes in the morning."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Rose and Hugo could use a break from me right now." Despite her fatigue, her eyes twinkled, "They got in a bit of trouble this morning, and Hugo's probably still doing lines."

"Ouch…" He chuckled, "Alright. They are with Molly this afternoon."

"I'll get them shortly after returning to Hogwarts."

"Then I'll guess I won't see you till tomorrow…"

"I'll still be by later," Hermione reassured, "tell Ginny she better be walking when I get back."

"I'll let you tell her that." Harry said feeling mildly lighter than he had all day.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold eased around the remnants of the wall, and winced at the obvious bloodshed that had occurred recently. With quiet footsteps he maneuvered around the debris, forcing this hand to remain steady and guard alert as a faint noise heightened already jumpy nerves.

A witch cleaved in half greeted his eyes as he cautiously stepped around another partial wall before the noise of a stumbling noise caused him to drop and turn as his stomach fluttered. Only to see a large Griffin staggering backwards, obviously wounded; but unwilling to leave the area.

"I'm here to help." Harold stated instantly breaking out into a sweat as the Griffin's teeth curled further back.

"Harold the rest of the…" Aengus' words died in his throat upon seeing the Griffin.

"Go to St. Mungos and ask my wife to find Minerva." He said openly, not taking his eyes off the Griffin.

Aengus' didn't question him, and Harold saw from his periphery that he had left – now all he had to do was hope and wait. Seconds inched by into minutes and Harold could see the blood pooling at the Griffin's leg; and still it wouldn't leave – meaning it _had _to be protecting something.

He couldn't tell what, as he was unwilling to move to find out lest the Griffin attack him. He heard a fluttering of rapid footsteps, apparently the Griffin did too; as he coiled closer to himself.

"Harold," Minerva's distinct contralto could be heard without being seen, "drop your wand."

Harold reluctantly did as he was told, feeling utterly naked as it fell to the scorched and bloody ground. At once the Griffin's disposition eased, head tilting to the side as Minerva came to within view; Helena and Aengus by her side.

"Both, please remain here." Minerva said while moving around the edge and stepping into view of the Griffin beside Harold. Green eyes swept over the scene and her heart ached, "Rioblo, is Wilhemenia behind you?"

_Minerva?_

"Easy my friend, it is I." She raised the palm of her hand, forcing her magical signature onto display.

_I cannot see, but I feel your magic is far weaker._

"Is Wilhemenia here?"

_I smell her scent from,_ he nodded to the wall behind her, _over there, it is thick with blood._

Minerva turned, "Harold can you see if Wilhemenia is still alive on the other side of the wall?" He cast a glance towards Rioblo and Minerva understood, "Rioblo, three companions accompany me, do not be alarmed."

_Come closer, green-eyed._

"What happened here?" Minerva questioned as she steadily walked forward.

_Like before. _

"You were struck multiple times," Minerva whispered, hand tentatively reaching out to the swollen bloody area. "You need help."

_I am beyond, focus on the younglings behind me._

"Helena…" Minerva called out ignoring his comment.

_I will not consent to wizard magic…_

"You will." Minerva interjected, "As you once did me a great honor, you will let me repay you by letting my dearest friend help you."

His teeth reared back, _I will not!_

Minerva remained unmoving as he brought his face to within less of a meter of her own, "For the sake of the younglings, you will!" She countered, undeterred. "Helena – " Her voice commanding, "stop dallying."

Aengus looked past Helena and too Minerva and edged farther away. "Thanks." Helena muttered as she swept out into the open; feeling her hair stand on end at the fierce Griffin so close he could snap Minerva in half. "I need to…run a diagnostic."

He snorted, Minerva's hair blowing out of her bun as he came even closer. _If she comes closer, you will die._

"I'll be dead within months, so you'll be saving me the trouble." Minerva stated causing large opalescent orbs to sparkle, "And if it means you'll be alive to raise the younglings, then by all means."

_You speak as though your death is certain._

"It is."

_And to have wizard's magic touch me will mean that to my brethren I shall be as well._

"Then help change the future, for both our children."

A long pause passed between them, until finally his magical cadence washed over her. _If the younglings are alive, then I shall let only you and your friend touch me._

Minerva nodded and Rioblo edged back enabling her to stride past him and into a narrow area too small for Rioblo. "One moment, Helena." She withdrew her wand, gently moving debris from the path before her; eyes scanning for the younglings. She levitated one rock with a small outcropping and two sets of golden coats tried to scamper back into the dark. "Easy little ones." She stated as she banished the rock. "There are two younglings," Minerva stated aloud, "now will you permit Helena to run a diagnostic?"

_Only two? _Rioblo's asked, obvious distress stemming in his voice.

"How many younglings should be here?"

_Four._

Minerva watched as the two young Griffins tipped their heads at her, curious as to how the strange human before them was able to understand Rioblo. "Where are the rest of you?" Minerva quietly asked as she kneeled down.

Large eyes blinked up at her and then to its sibling, and then back to her.

"I am a friend of Rioblo's, and here to help you."

Again the two young Griffin's looked at one another and back to her.

_You are not Wila._

"No, I am not. I am the person who introduced Wilhemenia to Rioblo when Rioblo was a little younger than you both are."

_Bly is_…a small paw pointed to behind Minerva, _under there._

Minerva turned her head and hoped for the best as she lifted her wand, "I'm going to use magic to find him. You needn't be afraid."

_How can you hear us?_

"I can alter my appearance into that of a cat, making my hearing more acute."

_Can you show us?_

"Not today," Minerva said as she banished the rocks and internally winced at the sight of Bly's crushed body. "Your brother didn't make it. What of your other sibling?"

_A two-legged walker like you took him._

"Did you see what color his clothes were? Green like these?" Minerva fingered her outer cloak, "Or another color?"

_I didn't see him._

"And you?" Minerva asked the other Griffin.

A shaky paw fingered her under cloak, _this one._

Minerva touched the fabric she pointed at, "Black."

_Yes._

"Anything else that you can remember?"

_Go ahead Mia_. The brother reassured his sister.

_One had a scar._

She leaned forward, "Alright, you're safe now; I'll help protect you." She slid her wand into her robe and reached out. "Trust me."

Tentatively Mia moved forward, _Wilhelm…_

"I won't let anything happen to either of you."

Slowly Wilhelm joined his sister, both burrowing their heads into her side and warmth. "I've got you." She whispered as she stood, ignoring the way their claws dug into her skin as she moved through the wreckage back to Rioblo. Her eyes swept over the room, Helena was carefully lifting her hand to touch the proud Griffin's chest and then her eyes connected with Harold's – and he subtly shook his head. The meaning clear, Wilhemenia didn't make it.

She lifted her head to see glossy pain ridden eyes, "I am going to take Wilhelm and Mia to Hogwarts; Baily will care for them why you are being treated."

_I will accompany them and you to Hogwarts._

"I…" she turned to Helena, "can you move him?"

"He's lost a lot of blood," Helena stated without answering.

"He wants to be moved with the younglings to Hogwarts."

"Unless you are going to forgo one of the Greenhouses, I don't know if he'll survive; he needs to be kept quiet, not stressed, and remain out of the weather."

_I am not one of your domesticated elves…_

"You are my friend, and you _can_ and _will _stay in the Greenhouse until you are well enough to take care of yourself. By staying there, I can alter the internal structure and the younglings can remain with you as you heal."

_Then we go._

He started to move and Helena instantly applied pressure to the seeping area, "I haven't stopped the bleeding."

"Easy," Minerva directed to Rioblo, "Helena will treat your wound so we can move you to Hogwarts."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione blinked, "The Greenhouses?"

Elgin nodded, "Correct."

She looked at her children and then back, "I'll arrange for someone to watch…"

"Milksy will be here momentarily. You'se need to leave."

Hermione trusted the stately elf, but she couldn't help but wonder _why_ she was being summoned to the Greenhouses of all places. She summoned her cloak as she strode from the room and Godric's portrait was already swinging open for her to exit.

"I think you are all in collusion," Hermione muttered to Godric as she walked through, slipping on her cloak as she quickly descended the stairs from the Tower. _There has to be a faster way to descend these that I can have access to,_ she thought as she rounded the final staircase.

Another eighty steps brought her to the south entrance by the Greenhouses, her hand hovering over her wand as she pushed the heavy door open; the brisk cold instantly cutting through to her skin as the waning sun edged closer to the horizon.

The snow crunched under her feet as she walked the last handful of paces, concern giving way to curiosity at seeing Minerva standing in the Greenhouse Three's doorway, Pomona, Neville and Filius around her.

All four heads turned as she approached, "Is everything alright?"

"Wilhemenia was attacked and killed this afternoon, Rioblo was gravelly injured and Helena is bringing him here."

"Ahhh, who exactly is Rioblo?" Neville questioned perplexed.

"A Griffin." Hermione absently answered, "Why here?"

"His injuries were severe enough that he requires assistance."

"Minerva, a Griffin, even one whom you know would rather seek death than permit wizard's magic to intermingle with theirs."

"I am aware of the complications, however, I require each of your assistance to prepare for his arrival. Pomona, Neville will you relocate the back third of the plants in this greenhouse. Filius, please charm the back of the structure to be an additional hundred meters in length and twenty in height. Hermione, if you could follow me." Without further instructions, her cloak flourished about her as she spun on her heel and entered the greenhouse; Hermione a half step behind. "We'll need to erect a wall –" Minerva motioned to the back third of the structure, "the full width so that the students and rest of the faculty, save for those present and Baily, will be the wiser. Also, the area will need to be natural; a small glen. Once Filius charms the structure, you both can modify the internal area into a glen. He can levitate the necessary base matter, Pomona along with Neville can expedite the vegetations growth – you'll need to transfigure the material into the appropriate formations. Take the hose, create a T, and run water into the area – transfigure the hose into a small brook with a return to the main line to recycle the water and keep it from becoming stagnant." She paused for barely a heartbeat, "Transfigure some hay or straw – or another natural source that can be used to sleep upon; and lastly an external door that will enable Rioblo both entry and exit but can only be seen and opened from inside."

Hermione blinked, "I…you are not remaining here?" She asked altering her statement into that of a question at seeing Minerva step back to the door.

"I need to speak with Baily and am entrusting the temporary habitat with you. They'll be here within a half hour."

Hermione's curiosity died upon her lips, the door swinging closed – Minerva having already left. "How the hell am I supposed to have all that done in a half an hour?" Hermione's voice slowly ebbing outward in the thick, pungent air as she withdrew her wand and began to erect the wall.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Tiredly, Minerva reached for the knob to open the door to the greenhouse, but the simple movement was now beyond her scope; between the cold and using her magic. With a sigh, she silently cast alohamora, the door immediately opening. She entered the structure, pleased with end result. The greenhouse appeared untouched, save for the slightly more compact nature of the plants. She moved down the aisle between a cluster of mid-sized mandrakes and recently germinated wolfsbane; hand casting another spell to open up the recently crafted door. _Have to ask Pomona to lock it,_ she thought as she strode into…what appeared to be a glen carved from Hogwarts herself. The area consisted of a brook running just to the left of a canopy of mid-sized oaks that were nestled into a hillside that opened up into a valley filled with all manner of grasses, and from the overlying scent in the air; she'd guess a mix of English lavender.

"I got a little ahead of myself," Hermione stated aloud, Minerva though didn't answer or turn to her as she continued on taking in the simple beauty and splendor that had been crafted, "hope you don't mind."

"Truth is, we all did, Minerva." Filius added at his friend's still quiet response, hoping that they had not indeed – over indulged.

"It is lovely." Minerva finally uttered, "A testament to each of your talents." If Minerva didn't know any better; she'd have thought it was an extension of Hogwarts - magically protected against the weather. "Pomona, Neville, please watch the temperature in the greenhouse as the area is close to what the heating coils can sustain."

"We've already discussed it." Pomona answered.

"Very well," she turned to the small group, "as much as I'd prefer to enjoy each of your company; I'm afraid I must ask you to leave the area. Rioblo will be here momentarily, and…he is not having an optimal day."

Filius chuckled, "Diplomatic as always." He motioned his hands in a sweeping pattern, and he was levitating beside his wife; hand gently upon her back. "Let us know if you require any additional assistance."

"Thank you." Minerva called out to the retreating group, eyes momentarily staying upon the brown haired witch before turning back to the double doors – missing Hermione's gaze as she looked back over her shoulder at Minerva. Concern mixed with resignation as she realized that it was almost six; and she had every reason to doubt that Minerva would make it up to see her or her children this evening.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Elgin brought two replacement hot water bottles and flaxseed packs setting them beside the chesterfield, so he could take the luke warms flaxseed packs off the tops of Minerva's hands and the tepid water bottles from her lap; and begin the process again – nestling her hands between the two types of warmth.

"Thank you." Minerva whispered, trying not to let her teeth chatter.

"Have you begun to feel any of your fingers?"

"Unfortunately, yes; they are beginning to tingle. You haven't need to alert Helena, I shall be fine."

"Mistress, you must remain out of the elements."

"As you know it wasn't in my plans for the day." Minerva shifted, enjoying the warmth along her abdomen, "Now, what of the letter from Michael?"

"I will ask Bonnie to relay that," Elgin snapped his fingers and was gone; Minerva barely had a minute to enjoy the warmth before Bonnie appeared with a critical eye upon her.

"Good evening, Mistress. Elgin said he relayed that word was sent to the Ridge from Michael."

"He did and that you'd share the content of the message."

Bonnie's gaze remained fixed upon Minerva's waist, noting the various ways Elgin was trying to warm her. "He's very much would like for you to come to their performance as you were unable to do so during the Holidays."

"When and where?"

"Newbridge on Friday and Bray on Saturday."

"As in Friday this week or next?"

"The 22nd."

Minerva was already shaking her head, "I haven't time. I'll have to attend when they return to Ireland."

Bonnie forced herself to answer, "I do not know if that will be an option, Minerva." A furloughing brow quirked, "The company will not be returning to Ireland until April 30th."

A pin drop could have been heard for minutes as the words laid heavily on the air between the witch and elf; their thoughts vacillating on far different spectrums upon the same topic. The future – and the very minute amount of time remaining for Minerva.

And she heard an echo of Rory's voice from the dance in December telling herself to enjoy what little time she had left. Along with Harold and Helena – both wishing that her last days could be _lived_…

"Then…I guess I'll need to go before I am unable."

Bonnie nodded, keeping her internal thoughts to herself at how relieved she was that Minerva was _finally_ doing something else for herself. "How many tickets shall I request? And what other arrangements will you be requiring for that evening?"

_Just enjoy yourself._ And Minerva answered how she shouldn't have, but after all, did it really matter? She would not act upon her growing feelings and see if they were reciprocated as more than a natural affinity or deep bond of friendship. "Two and dinner away from Hogwarts; I'll leave you to work up the remainder of the details."

Golden eyes sparkled knowingly as she answered, "I'll deliver the details with tomorrow evening's post."

* * *

Xoox

* * *

_a/n: Hope you enjoyed the variety views! See ya soon!  
_


	91. Chapter 88 January 20th, 2010

**Chapter 88 ~ January 20****th****, 2010 (Wednesday)**

Gawain kneeled down, checking the man's pulse as his eyes scanned ahead. "How many?"

"I'm not sure." The man to his left stated, "We're conducting a cell check."

Gawain felt his hand involuntarily clench the end of his wand, jaw clench, "An estimate?"

"I…don't know."

"Where's the Warden?" Gawain stood, beginning to move forward.

"Coming."

Gawain absently nodded, "See that he gets here, _now_." His voice burning it way between them, and he rounded the corner; wincing at the body of another wizard, obviously dead. The scorch marks up the hallway indicated that _he _had managed to procure a wand before this man's arrival. Or…he charged at the wizard and he wasn't able to strike him with a spell.

"Six." A sandy haired man stated as he came up to Gawain.

"Escapees?"

"That is the initial belief, I'm having that confirmed."

"And guards?"

"Three killed, seven critical."

"Damn." Gawain muttered, knowing _where_ he had to go next; even though he didn't have the time nor any remote desire to do it. "Send word as soon as you are sure."

The Warden's eyes widened, "You are not going to stay and finish securing the prison?"

"Twenty aurors accompanied me,_ they_ will be remaining to help _you_ and _your _guards re-secure the area." Gawain paused once more at the cell door, _how the hell did he get out of here?_ With a final shake of his head, he left – a gaping Warden staring after him.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena glanced up, expecting to see Jayne or Michael and was surprised to see Harold and Gawain; solemn expressions adorning both their faces.

"What's happened?" Helena questioned, standing; having felt Harold's concern earlier.

"Dear, we may need to go into hiding for some time."

"What?" Helena balked, "Why would you suggest something so outrageous? I can't leave…"

"Phillip Thompson escaped." Harold interjected.

Words were momentarily no longer at her command, she felt her mouth open a second time as she glanced to Gawain – who merely nodded at the unspoken question of confirmation.

"You're sure?" she finally managed.

"Yes." Gawain stated wishing he had news already regarding possible leads for his capture, "And while I know you loathe the concept, Helena, I need you both to seriously consider it. I can't spare more than two more aurors to your detail, my resources are stretched."

"I…" Helena took a deep breath, "please give us a few moment to ourselves."

Husband and wife waited until the door clicked close, and in one swift motion; Harold cast a silencing charm upon the entirety of the room.

"I refuse to let him dictate the nature and course of our lives."

"We both know that by remaining, it will only be a matter of time before he comes for you again. The only aspect he admitted to after three days of interrogation, was that he had come for you and that he would find a way to complete his mission."

"And if we leave? What message will I be sending to our family? My staff? The Order? Everyone else's courage is already hanging by a thread and then we vacate; and in a few months, Minerva dies…what then?"

"Stop putting up a front, love." Harold took a step closer, his voice dropping in proportion as he began to close the distance. "I_ know_ you're scared."

"As are you." Helena whispered meeting her husband's clear eyes.

"He almost killed you, and I am sure, he'll try again."

She felt herself _want_ to give in to the terror and leave; seek safety – it mirrored her husband's feelings. But, her dearest friend's commentary helped her waning resolve.

_ "No," Minerva moaned as Helena began the tedious process of healing the fragmented bone, "not so."_

_ "Then how can you do what you do? Aren't you terrified?"_

_ "Absolutely." Minerva answered, "But I also know that if I don't find a way to move past my own terror, then how will I help protect Derrick? Or you? Or if we do live past this forsaken war, and we start a families – and they become threatened, if I give in once – what is to say that I won't again?" Minerva whispered, tears staining her cheeks, "I think that, failing to protect those I love and that I didn't do everything in my power is more terrifying than anything Grindlewald can do."_

He had come around her desk, stopping within arm's reach. "I," she began, her fingers trailing through the slight grey that had begun to peek through at his temple from the stress of these past two years, "don't want to run."

Tears threatened his eyes, "you're sure?"

Slowly she leaned forward into his embrace, "No, but I'm more terrified of leaving our family and friends."

* * *

oxox

* * *

_ "Then we are agreed." _Minerva stated to her counterpart, Marie Deainte from Beaux-batons.

"_Yes, though how you will gain Durmstrang's agreement is beyond me." _The petite headmistress said with a shake of her head.

_"I've already spoken to Isaac, and he has consented to Beaux-batons hosting the tournament next year. Rotating between the schools enables new experiences,"_ an owl sailed into her office,_ "for everyone."_

_ "It never stops…"_ Marie motioned to the owl.

_"Unfortunately, no." _Minerva gently removed the letter, giving the owl a piece of dried jerky. "Off you go," she whispered preparing to tuck into her robes for later when she noticed the hastily scribbled word 'urgent' written upon the outside. _"My apologies," _Minerva's finger deftly slit the Ministry's seal and at once put her glasses on – the blurry words snapping into focus.

_Minerva ~_

_ Phillip Thompson, aka Renoir, along with five others escaped just before dawn from Azkaban. _

_ Arthur_

Minerva didn't bother re-reading the letter before folding it, concern flaring in her chest.

_"Is everything alright?"_

"No," Minerva honestly answered, _"There was a breakout from Azkaban this morning."_

_ "Is that not your wizarding jail, here in England?"_

_ "It is."_

_ "Do you believe it is connected to the man I have seen reports on, Johannes?"_

_ "I have no doubt that it is."_

_ "And you," _Marie nodded to Minerva as she began speaking in thickly accented English, "have been helping the Ministry?"

"As time allows," Minerva's mouth quirked before finishing her statement in French, _"school administrators have so little time."_

A knowing smile passed over Marie's features, _"That they do."_

* * *

_Oxox_

* * *

"Now…"

Narcissa's brow arched, "I think not."

"_He's_ here, is _he _not?"

"Whoever you are searching for is most assuredly_ not_ here."

Phillip went to push on the door, but it steadfastly remained, "Let me in."

Voice clipped in response, "the man you seek hasn't resided here in months."

"I need somewhere to hide for a day, two at the most."

"The Ministry will be here by lunch, this is _not_ and cannot be your sanctuary. You need to move along."

Phillip pressed forward, "Then tell me where I can go."

"No where for very long." Narcissa helpfully supplied before wandlessly closing the door and turning around.

"Who was that?" Lucius asked as he stepped into the hallway.

"An evening acquaintance."

"Of relevance?"

"Not in my world." Narcissa answered as she moved away causing a frown to cross Lucius' face.

"Narcissa?"

"Hmmm…?" she glanced over her shoulder, eyes flickering to the dinning area and back.

"Did he leave anything?"

Narcissa answered not missing a beat, "Only that his name was Phillip." Before she continued on to the kitchen, she had a note to write as Lucius was busy with investors.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione, along with the entire hall, glanced up as an elegant tawny colored owl glided to the head table; stopping before Minerva. She summoned the small parchment and split the dollop of wax.

_He's looking for a refuge._

"Minerva?" Filius' gentle voice bringing the world back into focus.

Banishing the parchment scrap to her office; "A thank you note from Marie," she answered giving the owl a piece of ham before standing. "If you'll excuse me."

Hermione watched as Minerva grabbed her walking stick, and with seemingly little effort she vanished from the hall.

"I don't think the note was from Marie," Filius stated to his wife drawing Hermione's curiosity.

"Me either." Hermione said from his left, causing both Pomona and Filius to turn to her; voice dropping as Pomona cast a silencing charm upon them. "Looked like Malfoy's owl."

"Our thoughts are similar." Filius carefully replied.

Hermione leaned closer to Pomona, and subsequently Filius, "Do you think she'll leave?"

"It depends on whether there is word that Phillip has been found."

"Phillip?"

"Helena's attacker escaped this morning."

Hermione's eyes widened, "Phillip Thompson?"

"Minerva received word this morning," Filius could read the worry, the questions, "she didn't send word to you as you've had class."

"And Helena?"

"I'm sure her detail has been enhanced." Pomona confidently stated.

"Excuse me." Hermione went to slide her chair back, but Pomona's hand gripped her wrist preventing her from leaving.

"Remember, Helena's family to her."

"I know." Hermione stated as she stood. "That's what worries me." Hermione's steps pinged off the slate as she quickened them, taking two and three steps at a time. She was practically out of breathe as she stopped in front of the Gargoyle, "Precious moments."

The gargoyle sprung aside, and Hermione quickly stepped in – relieved at how quickly the steps moved before grinding to a stop and opening before the familiar door. Knocking quickly, Hermione didn't wait for a response as she entered. "Minerva?" She was surprised to see Minerva sitting behind her desk, writing out a letter.

"Is everything alright?" she questioned without glancing up.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Hermione drew up to the desk, noticing the edge in her Minerva's posture. "Filius stated Phillip escaped this morning."

Minerva's quill drew to a pause, eyes glancing up over the rim of her glasses. "He did, as did five others."

"And the note from Lucius?"

"Rather Narcissa," Minerva began writing again, "that Mr. Thompson will be remaining in London."

"Do you know where?"

Hermione watched as Minerva's jaw clenched, and slowly eyes came to rest upon her again, "I will."

Hermione almost didn't want to know what she meant, because she believed she already knew – and it scared her. "And when you do find him?"

"It only matters that I do, Hermione." Minerva thickly replied, "was there anything else?"

"Don't close me out," she placed her left hand on the edge of the desk and her right atop dexterous fingers, "let me help you."

"I'm fine."

"No," Hermione breathed, "I don't know what is happening regarding your ailment nor how it is affecting you, but the one thing I am certain of is that you are not fine."

"Hermione…" Minerva went to pull her hand from the warmth atop her own, but it tightened.

"You're not," she interjected, "I see it in your eyes." Her eyes stilling Minerva's, "Because it's the same look I see when I look in the mirror."

Minerva could _feel _her husband through their bond conflicting with the warm tenderness atop her hand and in the space _so_ close – that it drove her eyes shut; feeling torn. Wanting to surrender…and yet not being able to as the world collapsed upon her – though needing a moment of respite to make it till the end lest she fall and just remain – "She's scared." Minerva brokenly whispered, before struggling onward. "She's never scared."

"I'm sure she's not." Hermione stepped closer around the edge of the desk.

Minerva turned her hand over, squeezing the warm fingers as tear filled eyes opened, a hint of a smile touching her lips; "I wish that were so, but I fear that can't be farther from the truth, my dear." She withdrew her hand and suddenly there was a tiny piece of parchment extending outward. "Harold wrote that."

Hermione took the scribble as Minerva stood, fingers opening the small piece of paper and reading the scant few words.

_Help me find him, I don't want to her to live in fear._

"Can…he feel her fear?" Hermione tentatively asked as she lifted her eyes, to see that Minerva had crossed the whole of the room and was standing before one of the windows looking out across the grounds.

Minerva felt herself nod, as her eyes fastened upon the white tomb, and the vapid strength he now provided as their bond pulsed. "Yes," the warmth of her breath causing the pane to mist, "through their bond. They are able to feel strong emotions…"

"Is that all?" Hermione continued on, "I read a little bit about bonding after I learned that she and Harold were; and it seems that it varies by couple. However, as I was only able to find two texts on the topic."

"You'll need to speak with Helena…" Minerva quietly replied, "it's not up to me to divulge what passes between them."

"But it is more?"

Her bond pulsed, causing flashes of memories to pass between husband and wife – memories of _their _life, their love, and cherished moments that no one saved perhaps another person who is bound could understand. "…yes."

"Is there…something else?"

_A gaping hole that is going to swallow all that I am_, "No…" Minerva said clearing her throat as she turned from her husband's tomb and felt a warmth she couldn't find comfort in, "I believe that is enough for the day."

"How will you find him?" Hermione pushed on.

"The same way I found Johannes," Minerva's brow arched as if it were a forgone conclusion, "I have a number of people in both the wizarding and muggle world who owe me a favor."

"And when you find him, what then?"

"We'll be visiting him, with or without Ministry assistance."

"How long…until you or one of your contacts are able to find him?"

"While I wish it could be sooner, I don't know."

The moment was interrupted as the clock in her office chimed, denoting that it was now the top of the hour; Hermione's eyes darting to the mostly alabaster colored clock and then back to Minerva.

"I…" she was already walking backwards to the door, she had to be in class – now, "she'll be alright." Hermione tried to reassure, worried about what else Minerva wasn't sharing and the flicker of emotion brimming so close to the surface.

"Elgin," Minerva called as Hermione paused, "thank you, my dear." She turned to Elgin as he appeared, "Please take Hermione to the transfiguration office."

"Of course," he raised his fingers up.

"If you find him, don't leave without help."

Elgin glanced to Minerva who merely nodded and in a flash she was alone and Albus' voice was already crossing the space between them. "I'm here, love."

"No," Minerva said turning as she shook her head, "you're not!"

"Feel me…"

"It's not enough…Albus." Hair tumbling about her face, "Helena's…scared…" Her voice breaking as she forced the words out, "And you aren't here!"

"Minerva…I'm with you…"

"You are entombed," her hand flew upwards pointing to the window as tears streamed down her face, "in a marble sarcophagus and I _can't_ touch you…"

"She'll be fine."

More locks fell from her bun, "No…she won't!"

"Focus on Harkiss."

"And if she isn't…what then?" the tears began falling heavier, "what if she doesn't make it? Or the children? Or…"

"Focus…love."

She began shaking her head, thoughts jumbled as her body, mind and soul began succumbing to the well of emotion rarely displayed. "I..can't get past them…I hear Harold and Helena...to think of what they have versus what we had to what we have now –" she tipped her head to the sky, "God I miss you…"

"It won't be much longer…"

"I can't…"

"Hold on –"

"There is nothing left to hold on to…" she said brokenly.

"I'm here…"

The portraits of Hogwarts watched as their Headmistress collapsed in the office as heartfelt sobs were pulled from her throat, "I can't…"

"I'm here…" Albus repeated as his tears joined hers; another crevice being ripped through them, leaving their love stretched even farther.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harry cast a protego charm, trying to keep his mind focused on the here and now, not where his children would be staying if he were injured or killed.

_With Molly and Arthur? Not that that was safe with Arthur being the Minister of Magic. Perhaps Bill and Fleur…but to live at Shell Cottage? The children loved to hike, play quidditch, but they did like the ocean…_

_ Or stay with Charlie…no. He spends too much time on the dragon grounds. There was always Ron – _and the percussion of the spell was equivalent to the thought – _no. He didn't spend enough time with his own children right now._

He snapped his wrist, before summoning a cluster of pots to create a temporary barrier; his mind still churning through the possibilities. And as Myriam deflected his hex, his thoughts turned to George.

A smile curling the corner of his lips at the notion, _I don't think they'd ever be the same, but at least they'd be safe. He'd protect them as if they were his own, but…there was something he was keeping to himself – something…_

He felt his cheek impact the wall as his cloak billowed about him while dropping to one knee, spells consecutively springing from the tip of his wand.

_That had brought both joy and worry to the normally gregarious man. Perhaps he had finally found the woman who held his heart._

Matthew swept past him between three bolts, and he blinked – seeing a movement past Myriam. "There's two!" He called out as Matthew dove behind a brick wall that was reigning across the street.

Harry ignored the pelting stone, lunging forward, unwilling to let Myriam escape – again. One rock crashed into his glasses, shattering the lens as another burnt a whole through his cloak; but he recalled what Hermione had said one night after the Borgin and Burkes incident.

_'Stay focused on the spells that'll hit you only.'_

_ 'And if you miscalculate?' Ginny quipped, 'What Harry does for a living, isn't a game.'_

_ Brown eyes hardened, 'You don't think I, of all people, don't know that?'_

_ 'What you are asking is suicidal.'_

_ 'You asked what I've learned from Minerva,' she stood shaking her head, 'if you don't want to know, don't ask.'_

_ 'There has to be more to it.' Ginny stated._

_ 'Of course, but the first part is seeing that you needn't defend against every spell. The second is to lose the large wand strokes, they waste unnecessary time.'_

Harry had never been one for large ostentatious wand movements, and after their talk that night; he began watching others, especially Hermione's, Minerva's and Filius'. Hermione had been correct – in the occasional dueling practice and at work; he had noticed how many people _added_ a little twist and extra flick, more flamboyance with their arms…and in the course of a duel, those moments added up.

He jumped over a hedge as another corner of the building to his left was blown apart and he continued to ignore the debris as the dust covered his hair, face, lips, clothes, and wanted him to cough – as his eyes watered to clear the dust from his eyes; and still…he remained focused upon his goal.

Myriam.

The woman who had almost taken away his best friend.

Who had almost taken away the woman who was a friend, mentor…and mother…in one fell swoop. Crushing her body as she defended the first place that he ever had to call home…

"Uhh…" His breath was forced from his lungs as he landed, wand already drawing up the snow, melting it…and with a flicker…shot the water forward as Matthew cast a protego along his side protecting it from an oncoming spell as he charged past.

Harry solidified the water around Myriam's body and streaked around the corner, seeing four wizards flinging spells at Matthew who was stumbling backwards…

"Come on!" Harry cast two more protego charms as Matthew tackled him behind the corner, Harry conjuring a partial ice wall as they both struggled to regain their footing. "You alright?"

"Nothin' my wife can't patch up." Matthew gasped in reply, "You?"

"Good." Harry said as they continued backing up, wands out. "Can you cover me while I get," he nodded Myriam's frozen figure, "her?"

"Got it."

Two spells later, Harry was removing her wand before completely unfreezing her; and then grabbing her lapel as did Matthew before their bodies were pulled away by a portkey and landing in a heap at the Auror headquarters.

"I've got a few questions for you," Harry said to Myriam as he stood.

"You aren't the only one," Matthew stated without acknowledging the other man's questioning look. "Most importantly, why did you betray Minerva and Hogwarts?"

Brown eyes hazily blinked upwards, "Minerva…? Where is…Ro?" She moaned as she tried to get up, "Rolanda?" she called out, voice sounding desperate. "Rolanda?" Panic lacing her face, "Ro!"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Michael sighed as he turned to Gawain, "She's telling the truth."

"Hell…" Gawain muttered running his hand through what remained of his hair, "do you think she'll take Veritasum?"

"Yes," Matthew stated, "if that's what happened and she was placed under the Imperious curse. From what I've heard, she deeply loves Rolanda and has tremendous respect for Minerva."

"And you know this…how?" Harry drawled.

"Jordan," he simply answered and at seeing Harry's continued confusion, "Meaur or you may know her better by her maiden name – Jordan Harrison."

Harry felt his lungs exhale, "Helena and Harold's daughter?"

"Yes, they are my in-laws and Minerva her aunt; hence I know a small bit regarding Hogwarts."

"Then you don't think she betrayed Hogwarts, Minerva or Rolanda?"

"I hope not, for all their sakes."

"Harry, you and Matthew take this," he pulled an opaque dark green bottle from the back of his drawer, "let me know what you find out."

Matthew stood, "You don't want to question her?"

"I do, however, she's in custody; Phillip isn't."

"Phillip?" Harry and Matthew questioned simultaneously.

"Thompson along with five other escapees this morning."

"Have you told my in-laws?"

Gawain nodded, "This morning."

At once Matthew turned to Harry, "You'll need to conduct the interview, I need to speak with Jordan."

"Go ahead…" Gawain said to Matthew's back as the door closed behind him leaving he and Harry momentarily alone. "Make sure you grab someone, other than Mr. Weasley, to assist you."

"Ahhh…" Harry blinked, "okay. But, I'd like to know why."

"I don't want him involved, not with anything that will intersect the Headmistress."

"Because of…what happened last weekend at the Order meeting?" His brow quirked, "Which, how would you know of that?"

"I have no knowledge of what occurred at your Order meeting, but I _do_ know what he has been doing here. And he has not been making any friends."

"I'm sure it is stemming from his divorce and the children…"

"He's an adult Harry, who needs to comport himself as such. Lashing out at his ex-wife and others, including the Headmistress because they have become friends is not wise on innumerable levels."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Shakily Elgin reached out, inwardly flinching at the cool touch of her skin but reassured by the steady rise and fall of her chest. "I'se need to get you'se to bed, Mistress." He stated aloud, before vanishing to her rooms and turning down her covers to ready it for her slumber. He took an extra few minutes, warming each blanket and the sheets to help her stave off the ever-present cold she now felt.

Once done, he brought Minerva to her personal chambers and laid her upon the bed; her thin form practically lost upon the goliath mattress. He summoned her glasses and wand, along with her walking cane, setting them on or next to the nightstand before changing her robes and pulling the blankets up.

"…I need you…to contact…" Minerva blinked her eyes open, "find Aegis."

"Mistress, you is needing to rest." Elgin lowered the lights along the wall, "It can wait till tomorrow."

"No," she said feeling as though she were waking from the dead, "it cannot. I need to find Phillip Thompson."

Yellow orbs contracted, "Who is he?"

"The man who hurt Helena, he escaped this morning." Minerva explained and she watched as his eyes became hardened. "I will find him for you," his small hand extended outward, "sleep, Mistress. When you awaken, if he is within England, I'se find him."

"Elgin…"

He tucked her blanket closer about her frame, "I'se find him," he reassured and Minerva felt her eyes draw to a close again, no longer able to stay unconsciousness again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The gargoyle remained steadfast, "She is not to be disturbed."

Hermione repeated the password, again. "Precious moments," and still, it remained immobile.

"It matters not how oft you repeat it," the gargoyle replied.

"Then the password has been changed?"

"No."

She could feel her frustration mounting, "Then let me in."

Tily suddenly appeared beside Hermione, and in the next blink they were standing in her living room. "He cannot, Elgin and I have given directions otherwise."

"Why have you brought me here? Directions otherwise, how? What if there was an emergency?"

Tily tipped her head to the side, "There is not one, as you are aware."

"And how are you and Elgin able to override the gargoyle?"

"We are the Head Elves."

"Forgive me, but I still do not understand."

"I have served Minerva since she arrived, and Elgin came to Hogwarts with Albus. We, like they, have become the head of the elves; but also it is an elf's responsibility to take care of his or her charge. The Headmistress is ours, and she is…needing a night of quiet."

"A night of quiet." Hermione repeated as she gazed into Tily's unusual mint green eyes, "And why are you telling me this?"

Tily drew her hands before her, hint of a frown resting upon her features, "You are quite persistent and would look for ancillary means to accomplish your goal, and I ask this evening that you do not."

Hermione knelt down, scanning the mysterious elf's face. "Why have I rarely seen you?"

"Elgin has taken to assisting Minerva and I the managing of Hogwarts."

Hermione couldn't help the smile from curling across her lips at the noted difference in the speech pattern between she and Elgin, but it was lost almost as quickly as she recalled why Tily was here. "Is Minerva alright?" she paused recalling the brief emotional conflict she had seen stirring in emerald eyes, "The business with Helena and Harold seems very troubling."

"Helena is very dear to Minerva."

"And the added burden that seems to have taken root?"

"Ensuring Helena's safety, amongst everyone else's as her resources are continually stretched."

"Is there some other way I can help her?"

A heavy sigh left her lips, as Minerva's time was becoming incrementally shorter and each reprieve less and less restful. "Be there as you have, as she needs all of her friends to be there for her."

"Tily…"

"I cannot say more, Hermione. Good night." Tily vanished without a sound, and Hermione stared after her for a long moment wondering what _exactly _was going on regarding Minerva and beginning to doubt if she'd ever learn the whole truth.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Aegis went to grab his wand, but found it summarily gone as he turned to the intruder; fear flaring in his stomach at what would be greeting him. "Who's there?"

"You'se knows where Mr. Thompson is." Elgin snapped his fingers, causing a soft glow to instantly permeate the room.

His face twisted, "Give me my wand, elf."

Elgin held up the wizard's wand, "His whereabouts."

Aegis lunged for the elf and his wand, and found his body connecting with air and then thudding to the floor.

"If you truly did love the Mistress, then give me…" Elgin handed the butt end of the wand to Aegis, "his whereabouts."

Blue eyes hazily blinked, as he grasped his wand. "Mistress?"

"Minerva." Elgin stated as Aegis pointed the tip at his heart.

"I don't know."

Elgin took a step bringing the wand's tip flush against his shirt, "I believe otherwise."

Aegis snapped his wrist, the wand falling away from the tiny elf's breast and heart as he sat upright, voice still raw from sleep. "To give that information to you is folly for both her and I."

"She has her reasons." Elgin simply replied.

Aegis rocked backwards, bracing his body with his right hand, running his left one through his hair. "And you?"

"I love and respect her. His location?"

"I'll find a way to procure it, without it coming from me within a week."

"Not good enough," Elgin pressed meeting Aegis gaze with his own penetrating one.

"You do realize that he and Johannes want her to come after him, and they are planning on it?"

His ears flattened as his shoulders dropped, voice barely remaining resolute. "Yes," he whispered, "I do."

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Minister?"

Arthur re-read the report for a third time, not wanting to believe what had been discovered but also not able to dispute the facts. Myriam had been under one of Johannes' control or more precisely one of his men's control through the Imperious curse.

She had almost managed to bring down the whole of all that she loved; and as Harry had divulged what had happened, the woman had gasped through tears begging for it not to be true.

And he wished it hadn't been. Wished that she hadn't been controlled and almost brought the whole of Hogwarts to the ground. Wished that he hadn't been there to see Minerva's broken body being pulled from the wreckage just over two weeks ago; that it had been nothing short of a miracle that Minerva had lived…only to have to die within the year.

He blinked back the tears and lifted his gaze, "Treat…her," he swallowed his heartache, knowing that Myriam would have to overcome her own from what had happened, "and release her."

"Harry wants to speak with you too."

"Send him in," Arthur stated as he refolded the report, scribbling Minerva's name atop it; wishing he had something different to share other than the truth that would led to little closure and the one thing that they didn't need – more questions and even fewer answers.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Jordan adjusted her head against his shoulder, "They won't leave."

He kissed her hair, "I know."

"Minerva will try and find him."

"Uhh-hmmm." Matthew pulled back to gaze at his wife, "And what scares me is that I think she will."

Jordan met his gaze, as they began skittering across the one area that they both rarely discussed – her aunt, and her resourcefulness. "I think you're right."

"Jordan, she can't go after him. She isn't well." He leaned closer, "She needs to leave it to the Ministry."

Jordan nodded, "You're right, she isn't well and she should."

"But…"

Her blond lashes blinked as her jaw tightened, "I don't know if she will."

"She's your aunt," Matthew whispered, "you can talk with her and tell her…"

"What exactly?" her voice becoming slightly strained, "To not try and find the man who almost killed my mother and subsequently father too?"

"And when she does find him, are you willing to let Minerva risk her life for them?"

Jordan pushed away from him, "Don't…"

"Just talk with her, love. She will listen to you."

She shook her head, "No. Not about this."

"You don't know…"

"I do." Jordan's features hardening, "When it comes to my mother, father, me or her children, I do. She will protect all of us as ferociously as a lioness protecting her cub."

His eyes softened as he nodded, "I know. When I attended Hogwarts, we used to say she was Gryffindor through and through."

"So did my brother and I," Jordan said wiping the moisture from her eyes, "as did our cousins."

"Can you speak with her?"

"I will," Jordan finally conceded, "in the morning."

Matthew went to interject but found himself eating his words at her look.

"Even she won't find him that fast." Jordan quipped.

Matthew quirked his brow, "You sure?"

A soft chuckle slipped past her lips, "Yes. She isn't Wonder Woman after all."

"No, she's _your_ aunt and one of the most resourceful witches across Europe."

"And she's tired, Matt." Jordan stated, "I spoke with Elgin earlier, and she's already asleep for the evening. She won't be going anywhere," she laid her hand upon his arm, "I think it'll be alright for the evening."

He pulled her back to him, "You've made your point, love."

She kissed his lips, "I'll speak with her first thing and remind her that there are others who can help."

"That's all I'm asking." Matthew whispered leaning forward in an effort to recapture her lips.

"And Hermione…" she murmured before his lips silenced her words, but he pulled back almost just as quickly, a question lacing his features.

"Hermione?" he gravelly asked.

"She's been helping Minerva…"

"She won't go after him without her, will she?" Matthew asked as the trickle effect of what that knowledge entailed.

Jordan shook her head, "No. I don't think Minerva has relayed her contacts to Hermione."

"But she's been helping for…a while now?"

"I believe so, why?" she leaned back slightly, "Matt?"

"What do you know about her?"

"Hermione?"

"Yeah."

"She took the position at Hogwarts this year to assist with the Order; recently divorced from Ron Weasley; has two children; was the intellect behind the Golden Trio…"

"And her friendship with Minerva?"

"No…" Jordan shook her head, "you are slipping into Auror mode."

"Can she succeed her?"

Jordan's mouth went suddenly dry, "What?"

"Does she have the skill to succeed her?"

"I…she's her friend, Matt." Jordan said distancing herself from him, "How can you ask that?"

"Hey," Matthew reached out catching his wife's arm, "Johannes is real, and so is the threat. You know this." Green eyes scanned blue ones, "And she is one of the few who can take on Johannes, and she's dying. She'll be dead within months…and…that was before Phillip's escape. If she doesn't heed your advice and goes after Phillip, what will that mean for Johannes and his capture? Because, if Hermione can't succeed her, that leaves your father and Rory…and it isn't that I don't believe in them…it's just, if Johannes outlives your aunt, I want you to consider leaving England and taking the children with you."

Jordan stared slack jawed at her husband in utter disbelief.

"Because Johannes will come after you, and…" his voice broke, "I won't be able to stop him and I can't imagine my world without you in it."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Sighs…some days it really doesn't seem like we've made much progress, but then I try and remind myself just keep swimming and we'll get there… ;) As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	92. Chapter 89 January 21st, 2010

_a/n: I apologize to those persons who'd wish to leave anonymous review, but after a recent posting to another story I have disabled that feature. I am a firm believer of one being able to express oneself good or bad, but that whomever does take ownership to what is expressed._

_As always, I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 89 ~ January 21****st****, 2010 (Thursday)**

Minerva glanced up as the fire in her office roared to life, and the familiar form of her niece stepped through; a smile instantly curling her lips. "Jordan, what a pleasant surprise."

Blue eyes scanned the office before again landing on Minerva's, "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," Minerva said as she stood from her desk and took two steps closer, "you are looking well."

"You too," Jordan covered the remaining distance, embracing her aunt. "Hip bothering you?"

"The weather…" Minerva said as she gimped backwards, "have you had breakfast yet?"

"Coffee, but I'd love a croissant and another cup."

"Good," Minerva motioned to her coffee table and chesterfield, "please."

"When was the last time you saw mother for your hip?" Jordan questioned as Minerva grasped her walking cane.

"Two weeks prior," Minerva replied as she inwardly summoned Elgin and was not surprised to see Tily appear; as he had looked exhausted this morning from obtaining what he had promised – Phillip's whereabouts. "Tily, could you bring some coffee and croissants?"

"Of course," she said and it appeared almost instantly before them.

"She still hasn't discovered what Michael did that your hip continues to generate bone chips?"

Minerva eased into the chesterfield opposite, "I'm afraid not, but it is of little concern." Minerva began pouring the cups of coffee, "How is Matthew?"

"Busy, as I'm sure you are aware."

Minerva took one cup and leaned back into the cushions, "I see." Minerva said brow arched, "And here I was hoping you were here not to talk about Johannes _or_ Phillip."

"Primarily I'm here to see you, but I'm worried about you and what you may try and do regarding Phillip."

"You worry far too much," Minerva sipped at her coffee, "I have no intention of seeking out Phillip."

"I'm not some Ministry official, Minerva, but _your_ niece. I _know _you." She countered.

"Be more concerned regarding your father."

Jordan met her aunt's stare, "No," she finally whispered over the rim of her cup as she shook her head, "he would have come to you to help find Phillip."

"And if I do find him, what precisely do you think I will do?"

Jordan slowly lowered her cup, "Find a way to stop him, even if you know you won't return." Tear filled eyes met her aunt's, "I just don't understand why you won't let someone else follow up on your lead and imprison him. You're…dying."

Minerva let her cup dangle from her fingers as she met her niece's tear filled gaze, and she didn't dispute the statement. "Yes, I am."

"Then why go after him?"

"I never said I would."

"Nor have you said you wouldn't."

"True," Minerva replied, "now how are the children?"

"Minerva…"

"You've passed on Matthew's message, Jordan." Minerva's brogue deepening as a hint of emotion laced her cadence, "Now let it go."

"I cannot let it go," Jordan interjected, "what if you get hurt or worse yet killed?"

"If I die tomorrow or in three weeks or in seven months, what is the difference – other than time? Except perhaps, that my friend will be here for another day, even if I won't be." Minerva cleared her throat, "And that friend, just happens to be _your_ mother. Now." Minerva's tone became steely and brokered no room for argument, "Let. It. Go."

Jordan swallowed, hard as emerald eyes burrowed into her and through her until her eyes dropped not able to fight her aunt on this and win.

How could she?

Either way, she'd lose someone she cared deeply for. "They are doing well," she whispered, trying to move on and praying that she was wrong.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Myriam lifted her hand, fear coursing through her veins as she raised her knuckles connected with the threshold.

"Come in." Came a voice that she'd know anywhere and with a great deal of trepidation she forced one foot in front of the other.

"Hey…" she stated as she stepped around the doorway, trying not to notice that her wife flinched at the mere sight of her.

"Hello." Rolanda crisply replied as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Harry shared that you were responding well to treatment."

"It'll be another week before I have the wonderful pleasure of learning how to walk again."

"Ro…"

"Don't…" she shook her head, tears dropping, "say it."

"I don't remember…" her voice shaking, "I swear."

"What was the last thing that you _do_ remember?"

"Getting our coats at the Ministry ball."

"For almost two weeks, I didn't know that you weren't…_you_."

"I tried to tell you…" she took another hesitant step forward, "I just couldn't."

Ro blinked at her wife, "I'm so sorry that I didn't know…Myr."

"It's my fault that I couldn't overcome the curse. That I wasn't strong enough…"

Ro started shaking her head, "You couldn't have…"

"You would have."

"No," Ro stated, "I'd have been just as susceptible."

"Love…I almost killed you."

"No, Harkiss did."

"By my hand."

With a slight shake in her hand, Ro laid her fingers on her wife's arm. "It doesn't matter, Myr. I'm alive. He didn't succeed."

"But he almost did."

Ro tightened her grip, "He didn't," she reiterated.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Pierre rolled the heel of his palm over her hip, "Easy…"

"Go ahead," Minerva murmured, "I can't feel…"

"I thought with you taking the potions that you regained some of your feeling along the outer part of your leg."

"I haven't had Helena numb the joint, so I do have more feeling."

"Can you feel this...?" he touched the inside of her knee.

"No."

"This?" he pushed on the outer part of her knee.

"No."

Pierre sighed, "It's progressing, Minerva." He began kneading her I-band. "I've seen you three times this last week, and you've lost another hand width of feeling."

"There is feeling in the morning."

"Burning or tingling?"

"That begins mid-morning." Minerva admitted, "By lunch I've lost most of the feeling from my hip to knee."

"And by dinner?"

"I can no longer walk unassisted for more than a half dozen paces."

"Has Helena scanned your hip to see if there are any bone chips in the joint?"

Minerva shifted as he pressed along her lower back, "I'll speak with her the first of next week."

"You shouldn't wait." Pierre murmured.

"I haven't the time till then."

"Slide my appointment on Saturday morning."

"I have plans."

"Hogwarts can wait for two hours." Pierre quipped as he held a new acupressure point.

"Not Hogwarts."

"Your children can too."

Minerva turned her head, hair falling across part of her face. "Believe it or not, I'm going to a performance that evening."

"And later that morning?"

"Order meeting."

"After?"

"I'll see her Monday."

"What is so pressing on Sunday that can't wait for you to have your hip looked at before you lose all the feeling in your leg?"

"Monday."

Pierre ran his hands up her back, "Before or after I see you?"

"I'll arrange it for before."

"If you haven't, I'm canceling." Pierre immediately paused at her shoulder, "And it's not that I didn't hear you, I was remaining focused; and am now returning to the most interesting statement I've heard in weeks."

Minerva groaned, "Dare I ask?"

"Saturday's performance, you obviously didn't ask Helena as she'd look at your hip, so who is it?"

She placed her head back into the massage pillow, "Hermione."

His hands didn't miss a beat as he responded, "The woman who arrived the morning before Christmas?"

"Yes, she is a good friend."

"Who could be something more, if I'm not mistaken."

"Pierre…"

"He's been gone a long time, Minerva." Pierre whispered by her ear, "He'd want you to move on."

"Yes, he has." She murmured in reply as the conflict raged within her over his seemingly simple statement which was unfortunately not so simple. "But, I'm not ready and she is nothing more than a dear friend."

Pierre didn't comment that he thought there was something more between them, unwilling to cause her to get defensive and tense up nullifying the benefits of his services. But it didn't negate the chemistry that he witnessed existing between them, and he couldn't help but hope - that it would become something more.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione broke the unfamiliar seal, and was surprised to see equally unfamiliar script. However, her eyes jumped past the body of the letter to the signature causing her frown to deepen at _who_ had sent the letter – Jordan.

Immediately her eyes flew to the body, rapidly skimming across the text.

_I woke up this morning intent and direction clear, but as so readily happens when speaking with my aunt, I find that the waters have become murky and slowing towards an impasse of ill design. On one hand lies my parents' welfare, the other my aunt's and neither option is acceptable, but I find as with most things involving them that my options are limited – which leads me to you._

_ I have no idea how my aunt shall find Phillip, only that I am absolutely certain that despite her protestations otherwise, that she will search and ultimately find him. And when she does, she will not alert the Ministry or any others deigning it in everyone's best interest to take him alone. However, I fear she couldn't be farther from the truth and worry that instead of jailing Phillip she will sacrifice all that she is to ensure that my mother and ultimately father are safe._

_ However, I cannot sacrifice my parents or Minerva. _

_ If possible, please route Phillip's whereabouts to the Ministry prior to Minerva's intervention enabling an alternate outcome granting the one thing that would have been irrevocably cut short – time._

_ My sincerest thanks,_

_ Jordan_

Hermione lifted her eyes to see several third years students already taking their seats, and she forced herself to turn away from them; eyes rescanning the letter as an overwhelming sentiment coursed through her brain, _what the hell?_

Immediately followed by an enormous sense of worry and concern for Minerva. Tily had stated that she was 'needing rest' last night.

Was that her way of saying that she had been out searching for Phillip? Or that she was tired, and had gone to bed early?

And Jordan sending her a letter…? Was almost as uncharacteristic as Tily speaking with her…

And what had Tily meant resources already stretched far too thin?

"Professor Granger, after reading…"

Hermione quickly rolled the parchment up, mind reluctantly pushing aside her ruminations; they'd have to wait until _after_ class – when she could obtain answers and not more questions.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Michael tried not to notice how tired Helena appeared, or borderline gaunt this morning; but even with the glamour charms, she looked as though she should be admitted to the insomniac ward.

He had seen the alert regarding Phillips Thompson a.k.a. Renoir's release and since Sunday evening St. Mungos was under lock down for the Administrator's safety. However, it was obvious the stress regarding the situation was taking its toll upon the formidable woman. Yes, she was still running St. Mungos with deft, sure hands; but he couldn't help but note the pause in her actions and the way her eyes flickered to the shadows when no one else but he was there. He was certain that the Ministry's protection was causing some consternation, as he'd heard her mumble on three separate occasions of having someone always underfoot and never a moment of privacy.

Of course, Michael believed having him in her office reading couldn't be helping and he had offered a multitude of times to vacate which she had stoutly refused citing he was to be reading; not getting entangled in minutia.

Absently he flipped another page, thoughts still upon Helena and he failed to notice her lingering gaze.

"Traditionally, when reading one has to look at the material."

Michael blinked and blinked again, meeting blue eyes that were gazing at him over the rim of silver frames. "I…ahhh," he cocked his brow, and modified his approach, "have read it. Ask me…"

"Who were Susan's parents?"

A look of chagrin passed across his face, "I didn't read the patient history."

"Amelia Bones and Lauren Bennett."

Despite himself, he blinked. "What? Amelia and you did say Lauren didn't you?"

"Yes," Helena affirmed, "one of three recorded cases in Western Europe of a same sex couple having a child in the last hundred years."

"Was the fertilization of the egg made possible by a potion or transfiguration? Was this their only child? Did they attempt to have any other children?"

Helena's eyes dropped, returning the stack of paperwork before her, "There's the apprentice I know."

Michael's lips thinned at her remark, "I'm concerned regarding your welfare."

"As are several Ministry officials, including my husband," she dipped her quill back into the ink well, "so you needn't worry. I'd prefer you'd spend your energy reading and digesting the information before you so we can begin to discuss some of the more _interesting_ cases in Britain."

"You are putting up a marvelous front, Helena; but I'm here with you 85% of the time, and I can tell you're scared."

Helena paused in her response to Chrix, a small blot of ink spreading outward, "Yes, I am. But a friend once said that courage is standing up for what is right despite your personal feelings and no matter how scared you are," she banished the excess ink and re-dipped the quill.

"Minerva?"

"No," her blond locks sliding along her shoulder, "Digs of all people."

"Digs?" Michael asked with a partial frown adorning his face, not recalling ever having heard the name before.

A feint smile passed across her features, her voice dropping proportionality. "Someone who I went to school with at Hogwarts." Her hand still over the paper as her thoughts drifted to her vivacious friend, "He was a good man."

From her expression, Michael was almost afraid to ask, but his curiosity propelled him onwards, "What happened to him?"

"War," Helena whispered in response as she blinked again trying to dispel the bloody remnant of her friend's body. "He died a month after he turned 18." She stated more to herself than him.

"Grindlewald's war?"

"Hmm…." Helena lifted her eyes, "yes." She nodded to the file, "Never you mind about Digs, focus on the file in front of you."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione was shrinking her essays when she heard a knock at the door, "Come in," she called over her shoulder.

"If you have a minute?"

Hermione's head whipped around, papers skimming off her desk as her eyes widened in shock at who her visitor was. "Percival," she whispered as he closed the door, "what are you doing here? And how did you get here?"

"Mother's not in her office and Elgin's assistance," a wisp of a smile passed across his face, "do you mind?" he pointed to a chair.

"No, ah… go ahead." Hermione breathed in a rush and before she could summon the dropped pieces of parchment, his fingers were clutching the handful of paper. "Thank you," she stated as she took it from him before he pulled a chair to him and sat; and she grabbed one herself and sat opposite him.

"I see not much has changed since Mother taught the class," he said taking in the room, hoping to ease the odd situation.

"I don't think this classroom has changed in five hundred years."

"You are probably right," Percival shifted, "I know this is rather unorthodox, but I also feel the need to ask if you are still assisting Mother in her evening…exploits shall we say."

Hermione just blinked at him, _twice in a day. What in the hell was going on?_

"If you can't answer I respect that and ask that you merely listen."

From the depths of her being, Hermione felt her head nod, but her jaw remained lax and uncooperative. _After all, what was she supposed to say? What could she say? _

"I came here for two reasons, the primary one was to speak with Mother, and will upon her return from the Manor regarding Helena; but I doubt I will be successful. As the bond between Mother and Helena is stronger than…" he curtailed his initial commentary regarding his father and Mother's bond in conjunction with Harold and Helena's, "that of their marriages. The second one was to speak with you."

She shook her head, "Whatever you are going to ask, or say, while I respect you and your family Percival; I won't…"

"I just want you to listen," Percival interjected eyes boring into Hermione, "that's all." He reached across, laying his hand upon her forearm. "That's all," he reassured and Hermione couldn't help but feel she was momentarily staring into Minerva's eyes - the overwhelming depth of emotion normally hidden behind a placid expression.

"Alright," she whispered in response, "I'm listening."

"If Mother doesn't listen and goes after Phillip, I want you to make sure you go and if at all possible, that you are the one to immobilize and capture him."

"Why?" Hermione questioned, trying to read his features and ascertain what was really going on.

Percival forced himself not to glance away, "Because she isn't well."

"When you say she isn't well, how unwell is she?" She watched as he shifted in his seat, swallowing hard, "Percival," her voice dropped an octave, "how unwell? Worse than she relayed last weekend?"

He held her gaze for another two heartbeats before he patted her forearm and withdrew his hand while standing up, "If at all possible heed my words."

She took a step as she stood, reaching out and grabbing the slender man's shoulder, "Percival, how bad is she?"

He turned, gazing at her over his shoulder, "She's my mother, do you think that I know the truth?" He could see the spark of doubt flash in brown orbs, "We know her health is deplorable, but she continues to put up a front and as for the severity – you know her. How much does she really share?"

"Does that mean a year? Six months? Less?"

Percival stepped away from Hermione, "For the real truth, you'll have to get it from mother or Helena as they are the only two, along with perhaps Harold, who knows." He paused at the door, voice barely carrying to Hermione as he faced the hallway, "But if she lives to her next birthday, I'd be surprised."

Hermione watched as his body blinked away, Elgin having taken him back to Minerva's office; her mind stuck on his parting words.

_If she lives till her next birthday…_

_Her birthday's in October, only nine months from now…and he'd be surprised if she was alive._

A tear fell off her lash.

_At her…next birthday._

_She'd be dead by her next birthday._

Followed by another.

_In less than nine months._

_ She'd be dead._

And another.

_Minerva wouldn't even live be alive for a year…_

Another.

_The woman she was falling in love with…_

Another.

_…would be dead and…_

A gasp left her lips as her hand drew up to her lips as the tears began to fall heavier.

_…she didn't know if she could stop it._

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva glanced up, "Percival?"

"Good afternoon, Mother." He strode across the office, noting that the soot vanished without her having to cast a spell. "Elgin said you were at the Manor," his eyes flashed to her casual attire, sheen across her skin, slight oil in her hair, "Pierre?"

"Yes, for my hip." She returned his embrace, kissing his cheek. "What brings you by Hogwarts during the day? Audrey is well?" She asked, keeping her eyes upon him as she backed up.

"She's fine, and what makes you think I have a reason? I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing."

"I'm well and your story is posh." Minerva said while rolling her eyes, "And no, I haven't located Phillip but thank you for wrapping your curiosity in the guise of concern."

"Mother…"

"Jordan has already been here," Minerva's statement was interrupted by Percival.

"She is your niece, I your son. And I'm not here to stop you nor dissuade you, merely to ask if there are _any_ other options available to you than for you to partake in Phillip's apprehension yourself?"

Minerva set the small stack of cumulative correspondence from her homes on her desk, along with her glasses before turning to her son. "At this juncture, I am still searching for him and as such seeking alternate options for his capture. I am one person, there are dozens of Aurors and Unspeakables looking for him, and I have every confidence they will find him before I."

"You and I both know that isn't true," he tipped his head to the side, "and I'd venture to guess that you already know where he is. Because while you haven't found him, someone else already has; but then I have to wonder why haven't you gone after him?"

"Love, your faith in me never ceases to amaze me."

"Do you know where Phillip is?" Percival directly asked.

"I did, however he has since moved."

"And when you find him, what are your intentions?"

"Percival…"

"Mother," he took a step closer, "you are dying. If you go after him, you may die…and I just..." blue eyes peered into hers, "are you sure that there is no other way?"

"You would not be here if you thought there was." Minerva sadly stated, "Now, enough drudgery," she held up her hand eyes holding a silent warning, "are you and Audrey free for dinner tomorrow evening?"

"7:30 at your home? The Ridge," he quickly clarified.

Minerva felt a mixture of comfort and remorse as she consented to the location, because while the Ridge had been where she had dwelled for the last forty years, the Manor – despite all that had happened upon the grounds, still embodied the simple word of home. "I'll be asking Tessa and Malcolm to join us."

"Of course," his voice softening, "would you like us to bring anything?"

"Merely the pleasure of your company."

"Alright," Percival kissed her cheek, lingering by her. "Mother, if you do go after Phillip…"

"If I do, then know I had good reason." Her fingers gently curling along the edge of his arm, as her eyes glistening. "And that I do love you very much."

"And I you," he coarsely replied before clearing his throat, "tomorrow?"

She nodded, letting her fingers leave his arm as they shared a brief moment before he grabbed a handful of floo powder and in a flash of green, Minerva was alone – staring after her son's departure before she shook her head, she had several things to do before this weekend. Her gaze snapped to Dily's, "Is Helena in her office?"

The portrait's body shimmered and then returned, "She along with Michael is."

A faint smile crossed Minerva's face at the comment, having received word earlier this week regarding Michael's appointment as her apprentice. Throwing a pinch of powder into the floo, Minerva gripped her walking cane as she leaned forward. "Good afternoon Helena, Michael."

She didn't have to wait long before her friend's voice cracked in response, "Is everything well?"

"Yes, do you and Harold have plans this evening for a bit of port?"

"I have a meeting with Chrix this afternoon, but can probably swing a late dinner too."

"I'll see you then. And Michael, do be a dear and make sure she eats something before then."

Michael's words fell silently from his lips as the connection between the floos was already broken as Helena began walking back to her seat. "Have you eaten today?"

She paused in withdrawing the chair, "Have you finished _reading_ that file?

"No," he stood up, "but I will before I leave." Her brow creased, and he elaborated, "It's close to lunch and thought I'd pick us both something up to eat. Anything particular sound good?"

"Just remember who you work for."

Michael's smile widened, "I do, but I also remember who her best friend is."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva had heard the flash of fire, and inwardly winced at her daughter's voice already knowing where the conversation was leading. "Mother." And while she understood _why_her daughter had come, it didn't mean that this conversation would be any easier and would certainly be far more explosive than the previous two. "Do you have a minute?"

"Good afternoon, Tessa." Minerva remarked as she turned to the fire, her daughter banishing the soot from her robes.

"I am fairly certain that Percival has already been here, not willing to wait until I had time to join him, regarding Phillip."

Minerva set her quill down, noticing how different her daughter and son were on so many levels. He had come here intent to make sure she looked at other options, Tessa…well, undoubtedly to try and manipulate her into doing what she believed was for the best. Even after all these years, he was still so much like that of a Ravenclaw and she a Slytherin; neither had gravitated or learned to expand as she and Albus had been forced to do with age and experience. "He was here earlier, as was Jordan; their sentiments undoubtedly similar as your own regarding Phillip."

"Then you mean to go after him?"

"As I explained to your brother, I harbor the hope that the Ministry shall find and capture him before I."

"And if you find him first?"

"Ask what you came here to ask, as I haven't the heart to fence."

"Will you go after him if you find him before the Ministry and if so, are you going to take Hermione with you to seal her fate along with yours? As she cannea protect herself without you and I am worried that you put too much faith in her skill, and it'll kill you before your time."

Even the portraits held their collective breath as they waited for a response, unsure how their Headmistress would respond. They, along with Tessa, were sorely mistaken in how she reacted, "If I do go after him, I shall take precautions – that is all you need concern yourself with."

"And Granger?"

"Professor Granger," Minerva clipped, "is a valued member of my staff and a good friend. Do you and Malcolm," she motioned to a letter she had crafted earlier, and handed it to Tessa. "have plans tomorrow evening?"

"Ahh," she shook her head opening the letter, "What is this, a last supper before you pass the veil?"

"Do stop being maudlin dear, it is extremely unbecoming."

"Maudlin?" Her voice rose an octave, "You are dying, or have you conveniently forgotten that small tidbit?"

"As much as I do try, of late it has been rather difficult." Minerva picked her glasses back up, "Shall I have a place setting for you, Malcolm and the children?"

"We'll be there. And hopefully Percival and I can talk some sense into you tomorrow."

"Wish the children well from me."

"Of course," she replied and was gone an instant later.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione forced herself to knock as the stairway ground to a halt, and was thankfully rewarded as it immediately gave way to Minerva's office. "Minerva, I was…" her words trailed off as the elder witch walked down the bronze staircase in what could be construed as extremely abnormal attire. Gone were her traditional wizarding robes, having been replaced by large flowing casual slacks and a wrap around tunic that looked to be oriental in design; a sheen sparkling off her skin and strands of hair appearing oily. "Is everything alright?"

Minerva smiled at the younger woman, "Fine. I was just getting ready for the evening, is there something you need?"

"If you don't mind me asking, your attire…"

"I believe you remember Pierre. I had a massage earlier today and have not taken the time since to shower and alter my clothes to what I normally wear while here."

_While here,_ Hermione repeated wanting to seek clarification. "I'm glad to see that your wardrobe does consist of something other than emerald robes and Tartan cloaks."

A light laugh filled the Head of Hogwarts office and even Hermione could not stop the small smile from covering her features despite her internal struggle that had raged since Percival's departure hours earlier. "Now, my dear, what's on your mind?"

"This business with Phillip."

Minerva bit back a moan of annoyance, "Yes."

"I had hoped to speak with you last night but Tily adjusted the wards indicating that you were occupied and I was just…you don't mean to go after him alone do you?"

"Keep Saturday evening free and we'll discuss it then."

"Saturday?" Hermione's brow quirked, "I…then you aren't going tonight?"

"Merlin no," Minerva replied, "unless you view killing off a bottle of port with Harold or Helena as constituting a concern."

"No, I just…are you sure that we'll have enough time on Saturday and you don't want to meet prior to then? What if you find him before then? Or if…"

"My dear," emerald eyes danced in amusement as she lingered for a moment on the stairs, despite knowing that she desperately needed to already be in the shower – she'd be late arriving at Helena's as it was, "if I wished to leave and go after Phillip without you, I'd have done so this morning upon learning his whereabouts. And as much as I'd love to discuss it this evening, I have need to go lest I be later than I already am."

Hermione drew another step closer, "Minerva, if you know where Phillip is, why not tell the Ministry?"

"Would you trust the Ministry with Harry's safety?" Minerva watched the play of emotions and permitted a low chuckle to leave her lips. "I thought not."

"But why wait till Saturday if you know today?"

Minerva paused in her stride to glance at Hermione, "Because I like chess." She stated simply.

"Alright then, till Saturday unless you have time tomorrow."

"I have dinner with the children tomorrow evening," Minerva began to re-ascend the stairs.

"And before breakfast? Or perhaps during lunch?"

"If you'd care to speak with Arthur at daybreak or take an afternoon meeting with Governors, I shall be quite content to cover your classes."

Hermione shook her head, the woman before her had a schedule that seemed infinitely complex and yet, as malleable as the weather. "If I didn't know better, I'd guess you are avoiding me."

Minerva drew to a stop at the landing, "If I cared to do that, the gargoyle wouldn't have permitted you entry."

"True," Hermione relented, "I do hope you have a good evening."

For a moment, Minerva thought of inviting the woman drifting ever closer to the base of the stairs, as her fingers curled around the banister. "You too." She thickly stated, letting her gaze linger a heartbeat longer than she should and with a nod she turned to ready for dinner this evening.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Good night you two." Helena murmured as she tipped forward unsteadily kissing her husband and Minerva's cheek. "Don't forget…" she gripped the cushion tighter, "to something to take."

"We won't." Minerva said patting her hand.

"How is it you two, aren't still drunk?" She blond brows furloughed, "Did you drink a, you know, before coming here?"

"You drank faster than us, combined."

Helena opened her mouth to respond but Minerva shook her head at Harold's remark. "He's baiting you, dear."

"It's a good thing he's here for you." She frowned, "I meant that you know…you're here so he's not you in trouble."

"I know." Minerva chuckled as she hugged Helena again. "Good night."

Helena leaned into Minerva's embrace, "Don't go…yet. No good-byes."

"I'll still be here in the morning." Minerva whispered kissing her cheek, "And the day after. You needn't worry."

Blond head leaned back as blue eyes tried to focus, "Don't do, what you do for me." She raised an unsteady hand and cupped her cheek, as large tears fell down her cheek. "I love you."

"I know." Minerva whispered fighting back her own tears and failing, "And I you." Her cadence breaking, "Very much." Minerva embraced her again and they held onto each other for several minutes before she pulled away, "Now, go to bed before you fall over." She said lightly.

"Night." Helena said moving away.

"Good night, love." Harold whispered while picking up another glass to stymie a bit more of their bond and enable him to discuss what he needed to with Minerva.

"I brought some cognac too." Minerva said once Helena was out of earshot.

"Perhaps a nuffler before we begin business."

Minerva stood and made her way to her cloak, extracting the bottle from the folds and handing it to Harold who enlarged it. "Make it a full glass, my friend. After the day I've had and the days to come, I have greater need than two and half thimbles full."

"The children come to see you too?" he glanced up as she sat down.

"All three. You?"

"Yes, they all begged me to find Phillip before you." He levitated her glass across the air while taking his own and returning to his seat. "Which I assured them I would."

"And I that you and the Ministry would find him before I." Minerva took the tumbler from the air.

"To our children."

"And may they forgive us the lies we have told them over the years."

They both tipped their glasses to the other and took a hearty swallow, savoring the creamy malt texture and hint of spice. The fire crackled and both remained quiet for several more minutes, nursing the last of their respective drink.

"Have you found him?"

"Elgin did last evening."

Blue eyes sparked, "And is he alone?"

"No," Minerva shifted, "there are a half dozen others with him. It is apparent that Phillip is the bait and either you or I the intended target."

"Where is he holed up?"

"Lower London, near the warehouse district."

"Minerva, are you certain that you don't want me to dispatch the Unspeakable unit?"

"There are questions that neither of us want to answer, most importantly how you came by this information. If it became known that a house elf was able to garner the whereabouts of witches or wizards as they are able to travel where we are not permitted, they will be forced into a whole new form of servitude."

"And the alternative is to let you go to almost certain death."

"Nonsense," Minerva countered, "I am still a tactician by nature."

"Then what do you need? And are you certain that he remains in London?"

"Elgin has set up a watch on the area, they are gathering additional information. As for need, portkeys."

"Portkeys?" his questioned.

"Yes." Minerva coyly replied, "Several portkeys that are voice activated."

"You know those are highly classified, and I should take you before the Ministry just for knowing about them."

"You should. And I should be finishing my opus before I no longer can, but then again, what we should be doing is vastly different from what we are."

"Touché," he remarked, blue twinkling in the firelight. "The word you'd like your voice to activate it?"

"Now, and I need it programmed for two voice signatures; mine and Hermione's."

His eyes marginally widened at her declaration and then slowly, reverently he nodded. "We'll have to obtain her speech pattern, which I can do…Saturday morning at the Order meeting."

"Can you have a half dozen ready by sunrise on Sunday?"

"I can have them for you Saturday evening if you wish."

"Sunday morning will be quite fine."

Harold tipped his head, eyes narrowing at her statement; however he let the comment pass. He was sure she had her reasons, and that was good enough for him. "Sunday morning it is."

"Now, you'll have to keep yourself occupied that morning lest Helena realizes."

"You focus on your end, I'll upkeep mine."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"That'll be all Elgin." She whispered, letting the frozen air cool her warm flesh.

"You are sure, Mistress?" He questioned, worriedly.

"I'll be fine." She glanced blurrily down at him, "Honest my friend."

He looked at her skeptically but nodded and vanished for the time being. He'd check up on her within the half hour.

Minerva, however, let her gaze drift to the sparkling heavens; thankful for her diminutive friend and his quiet ways. He had consented to having a disillusionment charm cast over them both, before subsequently taking her first to Percival's home, then Tessa's. She had merely stood and quietly gazed upon their sleeping figures for a moment, thankful for their safety and then she had him take her to the various rooms that housed her grandchildren, along with Jordan's children, even taking her to Gryffindor Tower and checking in on Samantha, and upon the spur of a moment – Rose and Hugo.

She had stayed for a long moment before having Elgin whisk her back to the castle, and was surprised to see the previous children's mother stretched out across the bed. Her breath had hitched and almost at once she tapped Elgin indicating it was time for them to leave, however, as he snapped his fingers…her eyes were trained upon the soft lines covered by the thick quilt before they arrived back in her office.

She asked for him to transport her once more, just outside the Northern Entrance; as she had suddenly needed some air.

The minutes stretched onward, and she innately drew her arms to herself; fingers already losing feeling and she knew she should go in, needed to go in, but she wanted to continue to let the cold, crisp air bite at her skin. Her eyes fell to the Greenhouse, and her thoughts immediately lifted at who was upon the grounds.

Without thought, she entered the Greenhouse and made her way to the secret entrance, waving it open…and strode in.

It mirrored the night sky, but the warm air was in sharp contrast to what she had been standing in for the last while. She gazed about the landscape, searching for Rioblo and his two cubs; but it was their scent that drew her to the outcropping.

_It is the hour of the centaur, is everything well?_

"Fine, I'm sorry I haven't had time to visit before now. How are you feeling?" Minerva quietly asked as she unfastened her cloak.

_My breathing eases. And you?_

"I...am fine."

_Perhaps to your brethren, but it is not they who are asking. _

She stretched out her hand, and he pushed against it with his head. "I'm tired," she answered honestly. "So very tired, my friend."

_Then join us this evening and I shall watch over you while you rest._

"I…thank you, but you must care for yourself."

_As must you._

"I am."

_And the circles that don your face? Take refuge for one night, my friend. It is the least I can do as you saved my life._

"And what shall you tell your cubs?"

_The truth,_ he stretched out his mammoth paw, exposing his wounds upon the left side of his chest and nodded to his right side,_ that my friend needed peace for a night._

Minerva gently trailed her fingers along his neck, before laying her cloak upon the ground next to his arm. "Then perhaps an hour to sleep off the cognac."

_Take as long as you need, _he whispered as he adjusted his shoulder and back before laying his head down, nestling her beneath him.

"I'm sorry about Wilhemenia." She breathed out, gently stroking the silken mane.

_I miss her optimism that one day all magical creatures shall once again be free._

"It'll happen, my friend. Not by my hand, but soon, I promise. Soon." Her fingers remaining buried in the warm fur as his steady purr filled the air cocooning her in magic and easing the thrum of her bond to both Hogwarts and Albus; and she shifted closer to his arm as sleep quickly came to her exhausted body.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione blinked her eyes open, "Hello?" she called out into the stillness, hand already clutching her wand as she tried to focus. "Whose there?"

She held her wand outward, pupils dilating as she gazed about the dark room. Seconds drifted by, the only sound was her rapidly beating heart and she called out, "Lumos." Wanting to end this and see who was there.

But as the candles burst to life, she could see that her room was in fact empty and with a shallow breath she unsteadily lowered her wand.

_It was just a dream_, she thought.

Shaking her head at her own edginess, she ran her fingers through her damp hair and stood. "Get a grip." She muttered walking to the bathroom. "Who'd be here in the middle of the night, anyway?"

She paused at the sink, turning the tap on and splashing a bit of water on her face; her eyes noticing the rarely unglamoured skin and the mark forever etched upon her forearm.

Mudblood.

It served as a constant reminder of what they had fought for and continued too; and she was sure if she'd live long enough – that she'd see war befall them again.

After all, Minerva had lived through three wars and the start of a fourth darkness…but…

Hermione curtailed the thought, knowing it would quickly delve into morose ones that were far too close to the surface both figuratively and emotionally. And she forced herself to refocus on the etching along her flesh. But like so many times of late, the woman who she was trying not to think of seemingly invaded her thoughts. She couldn't help but wonder if Minerva would recoil at seeing the mark? Or perhaps Minerva would ask her to glamour her arm as Ron had because it would be easier than bringing up old memories?

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: By the way, Happy Friday!_


	93. Chapter 90a January 23rd, 2010

**Chapter 90a ~ January 23****rd****, 2010 (Saturday)**

Samantha turned, glancing down the long tables of her fellow Gryffindors, eyes once again scanning the Head Table – and felt her lips pinch at the empty chair.

Her Gran still wasn't there.

Unlike last year, where she rarely missed a meal; the last several months it had been a rarity if she didn't miss several per week. And it worried her that yesterday, she had not been at one meal and was apparently missing this morning's too.

"I bet she's working with the Ministry." Stella remarked following her friend's gaze.

"Who?" Mark asked glancing towards Stella.

"McGonagall." Stella answered.

"Definitely," Darrin chimed in, "my dad works at the Ministry, and he said she's been spending a lot of time assisting them."

Several others began joining in…

"Wouldn't doubt if the Minister asks her to join the Auror team they send after Johannes."

"She used to be an Auror and helped bring down Grindlewald."

"I bet she'd be a wicked Defense professor with what she's seen."

"Well, from what I've heard, she bested over a dozen Death Eaters in the last war at the Battle of Hogwarts and staved off Voldemort himself. No way I'd go up against her."

"My parents said that Hogwarts is the one place that is safe right now because she's here."

Samantha reached over grabbing her bag, having heard enough nonsense, and stood. The last thing she wanted was to hear her friends' theories regarding Gran.

"I'll be in the library." She called out to deaf ears, as they were on a roll.

She already knew all those and hundreds more. She had heard her parents and grandparents discussing Johannes and what Gran's role was as the head of the Order and was working with everyone to bring Johannes to justice.

Her eyes darted back to the vacant area.

She had no doubt in her Gran's ability to do that, because she had already witnessed how truly awesome of a witch Gran was, but she also knew that her Gran was human. And she almost died three weeks ago saving her.

She, also, almost lost her Grandma and Grandpa the day before, her Gran along with her Head of House saving them.

She _had_ almost lost three people she loved who she believed would always be a fixture in her life. And that in a blink they were almost gone.

But it was the dark circles lacing Professor Granger's face, Uncle Filius and Aunt Pomona; that worried her the most. Because, that meant things were getting worse, not better; and she couldn't help but wonder how bad that made it for Gran.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Good morning, everyone." Minerva stated as she entered the enlarged dance hall at the Manor. She quickly made her way through to Harold and Rory, standing in front of the motley group that encompassed a large portion of the Order; even some of the new members. She was moderately surprised to see Kane in attendance, believing he'd still be in Egypt for another two weeks, however, he'd definitely add another level to the duels today. As would some of the retired Professors or their spouses who decided to join, in conjunction with a few current Professors, and Draco, Pansy and Stetson from younger generations joining them. "I took the liberty of slating this morning's dueling into a tournament style. While there are some similarities to this summer, the older and younger generations will be dueling each other as well. The winner of the tournament will receive a choice of 500 galleons, box seats to the this coming years quidditch team of your choosing or an equal gift of your desire that I can procure."

There was a combination of slack-jawed surprise and murmurings. Finally Neville cleared his throat, "What type of…gifts are you able to procure?"

Harold turned to the younger wizard, "About anything you can name."

Another flurry of soft murmurings swept through the Order.

"I received a Phoenix feathered quill from Minerva for Christmas," Filius' voice ringing above the others, "so I'd agree with Harold's estimation of our dear Headmistress."

Charlie glanced to Filius, "A Phoenix quill? I didn't know they made quill's from their feathers, I heard it is exceptionally difficult for wandmakers to procure for the cores let alone to be used as a quill."

"Where do you get one?" Percy asked, "And how much would it cost?"

"I only know of one dealer across Europe who is legally permitted to sell them," Arthur kept his eyes trained on Minerva, "and there is a lengthy waitlist for new customers."

"I am aware. Now," Minerva was interrupted by her daughter.

"Do you have a Phoenix quill?"

"Currently, no. However, I did for several years, a present from my husband, as it is a fine writing instrument. Now, as I was saying, the winner will be able to garner money or something of equivalency. We'll conduct the dueling in here…"

"Won't we ruin the area?" Bill questioned, concern lacing his cadence.

"I can nah begin ta tell ya how many times this room has been used for practice." Rory answered.

"When not dueling, please remain behind this," Minerva drew her wand downward, trying to ignore the ache in her fingers as a line appeared across the wood, "as spells will not cross the barrier. There will be a table with beverages and another with food; restrooms are through…" she pointed to a doorway to the left of the tables, "there. If you need something else, please ask. I or one of the elves will assist you." Instantly dozens of chairs appeared for seating, "Regarding the rules for the day, no unforgiveable curses nor lethal hexes. Otherwise, the floor is yours." Minerva flicked her wand, and the wall opposite of the windows morphed and a series of names and brackets came to life. "You'll notice Helena and I will not be dueling, as we are both healing from our recent affairs. She'll be assisting me in refereeing. Audrey will also not be partaking in the event for personal reasons. Is everyone else here able to participate?"

A chorus of affirmations and nods greeted Minerva. "Then may the best witch or wizard win, and we'll begin in fifteen minutes with first duel."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione scanned the tournament style bracket, searching for her name and frowned at who she was dueling. _Wendell?_ _Who was he?_ She thought, fighting the urge to scan across the sea of faces to see if she recalled him by sight as she looked ahead to see who she would potentially face off next – if she won.

The bracket connecting to hers was between Tessa and Ron. She inwardly groaned, because it would be difficult at best to beat Minerva's daughter. _She was a highly skilled witch,_ _and she knows it, _Hermione sourly thought.

She glanced to the quarter beneath it, and scanned the cluster of duels to see whom was facing each other and who would come out of that bracket to face off her bracket in the quarterfinals. Aurora against Pansy; Seamus facing Rory. She wasn't sure regarding the first one, but she was fairly certain that Rory would best Seamus and there was a high probability he'd beat the winner; meaning she or Tessa would be facing him.

She skimmed the rest of the tournament, not wanting to focus on who she would have to face after Wendell; and felt moderately better at seeing Harold, along with Harry and Kane were on the opposite side. _Poor Harry,_ she thought at seeing his bracket. It was as dreadful as her own, but she couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe they'd meet each other in the Finals.

She felt a hand wrap around her arm, "Hey, I'm thinking me and you in the finals."

Hermione smiled, "You were reading my mind," she replied stepping away from the cluster of others. "Do you know who Wendell is?"

Harry nodded to the stout, predominantly gray-haired man in slate blue robes with rounded cheeks who was engaging in a boisterous conversation with Harold. "He owns a cobbler store; I think George buys his boots from him." His voice dropped, "I'd rather face him than Malcolm for a first duel."

Hermione chuckled, "Me too."

"Any pointers?"

"Don't get hit."

"How original," he quipped as Ron wrapped his arm around him.

"I think it'll be me against you." He said turning to Hermione, "And I've got something planned that'll stun you before you say quidditch."

"Tessa won't be easy, mate." Harry countered.

"Never said she would be," Ron's voice took on a defensive tone, "just saying afterwards, I'll be looking forward to facing off against our resident expert and showing her a thing or two. You know, one professional to another in a fair duel, not catching someone unsuspecting…"

Harry's grip on Ron tightened, and he nodded to Hermione. "I got this."

Her jaw tightened and with a nod, she moved away as Harry chastised Ron for being a prat. However, her anger was diffused by two strong arms swooping from behind along with a kiss on her cheek. "Careful, your brother's already being an ass."

"Yeah, well…" George let her go, "he's been making it an art form of late."

Hermione tried to smile, but her lips just wouldn't move in that direction. "You're facing Percival?"

"At least I have an idea who I'm dueling against." George cast his eyes over to her opponent. "I've never seen Wendell cast a spell in my life."

"But you do know him?"

George nodded, "Absolutely. He owns a small shop in London off of Mallory Square, serving both muggle and wizarding folk. He's been there…over fifty years."

"What did he do before he was a Cobbler?"

George shrugged, "No idea. Took me a half dozen years before our conversation extended past pleasantries."

"He worked at Hogwarts and left ta join da Ministry durin' Grindlewald's war." Rory stated coming up beside them.

Hermione's agitation with Ron was momentarily curtailed, curiosity becoming the overriding emotion. "Was he an Auror?"

"You'd have ta ask Minerva, the records and information from Grindlewald's war is nah very accurate."

"There are hundreds of texts on the topic." George countered.

"Aye, predominately focusin' on Gellert's downfall, very few on the war itself. It made the mess with Voldemort look quaint." Rory's face remained as it always did, humble. "He terrorized Britain, but it didna spill over in ta other countries. Gellert's did. The whole of Europe was involved." His voice became soft, "It changed a lot of people."

Inadvertently, Hermione's gaze shifted past Rory to Minerva as he finished his statement, and she couldn't help but wonder how much it had changed _her_.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Michael bit back a yawn, taking another hefty swig of coffee; "Why am I here, again?"

"Because you're my apprentice," Helena quietly replied, "and this is part of your training."

"The warding will prevent any significant injuries," he murmured nodding towards her assistant, "and Jayne could heal those."

"There is no warding here, Michael." Minerva interjected, "The safety of the duel is based entirely upon the witch or wizard's ability to control their skills."

His eyes widened while turning to the Headmistress, "That's foolish, what if someone…or something happens."

Green eyes sparkled, "That's why you're here." Her gaze shifted to Helena, "Ready?"

Helena nodded and Michael watched the two women move to the middle of the room, "Shit," he muttered, grabbing another croissant – realizing that today's exercise with Helena would be many things; easy not being one of them.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Filius," Minerva called out, "as you are accustomed to tournament duels, I thought we could start with you and Percy. From their we'll go to Harold versus Bill on the other side of the bracket; and move back and forth between brackets A and B working our way downward. There will be no time limit to the duel. Any objects within the room are available for your use, and the barrier between your duel and the other occupants will hold against every spell – so none of you need to worry. As for concern regarding the room itself, or the Manor – there are containment spells within the walls to keep the duel and errant spells here and not through my library per se." A light chuckle went through the room. "Any questions?" she paused a heartbeat and nodded to Filius, "It seems you and Percy are up."

Filius moved forward as did Percy. Words of encouragement were spouted out for both wizards as they both filed towards the center of the room and withdrew their wands from their robes.

"Wands out." Minerva stated, twirling her wand within her fingers, knowing that by the end of the tournament she would have to don gloves to hide how bad her hands would become; yet again another reason as to why Helena would be assisting in refereeing – as she too could not heal everyone all day as she had been able to five months ago. She was still healing too, despite putting up a brave front. "Bow."

And in a flash, Minerva stepped back to stand next to Helena. The only two not behind the protective barrier as Percy raised his wand and Filius tipped his head to the side. "No bets today with George?" Helena inquired while casting a silencing charm over them.

"For some reason, he wouldn't bet on his brother this time."

Helena watched as Filius deflected a third spell chuckling, "I imagine not; though Filius seems reticent this morning."

"He mentioned that he'd prolong one or two of his duels." Minerva murmured as her eyes followed Filius' charm.

"He's one of the few capable enough to do that without sacrificing the match."

"It's a pleasure to watch him duel, he makes it look effortless."

"He reminds me of my friend." Helena reached her arm around hugging Minerva's shoulders, "Though, I imagine it won't be quite as effortless as the day passes."

"Doubtful," Minerva answered, "but it'll be interesting."

Helena's comment was stifled as Percy's foot became charmed to the floor, and he stumbled while deflecting a hex, his hand and knee now unable to move too. He valiantly countered two more spells before becoming petrified. Filius disarmed him, walked over; handed Percy's wand to Minerva as the room filled with applause for the unique technique the Deputy Headmaster used. "I'll take care of it." Filius quietly stated, and with a flourishing movement in conjunction with a stomp of his right foot; Percy fell over onto the floor, blinking. "Well done Mr. Weasley," he stated and with a bow to Minerva he moved to the back of the room. His name automatically progressing to the next round as Pomona gave him a hug.

"Marvelous as always, Filius."

"Thank you," and to Minerva's delight, Filius barely moved his hand; levitating upwards and too much of the room's surprise – kissed his wife gently on the lips, "love." He quietly breathed out, Minerva hearing the warm endearment as Bill and Harold began moving to the center.

"Careful, love." Helena stated as Harold paused beside his wife and Minerva.

"Always," he said squeezing her shoulder, sharing a quiet moment before turning to Minerva, "anything on the person is permissible to be used?"

Ebony brow arched as she scanned his maroon robes before once again meeting mischievous blue eyes, "Within reason."

"Of course," he cryptically replied before joining Bill in the center.

"Do you know what he's planning?" Helena asked before Minerva raised her wand.

"No, and that's what worries me."

Helena dissolved their silencing charm as she replied, "Me too."

"Wands at the ready." Minerva's clear cadence causing both men to reach for their wands, "Bow…"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Tessa watched as her mother initiated the duel, and Bill was immediately on the offensive – sending a flurry of hexes, intermixed with jinxes at her uncle who deflected them just to the left or right as the percussion of the spells striking the previously golden walls filled the room with a deafening percussion. She couldn't help but wince as Harold deflected a spell to the ceiling causing plaster to rain downward upon him; but he still didn't move from where he was. And couldn't help wonder what in Merlin's name he was doing?

Three, four, five more spells were dispelled of and he seemed to be struggling to send anything back against Bill; and she had known the older Weasley son had progressed tremendously over the last few months – but to take her uncle?

She had only bested him a handful of times in her entire life.

Cheers went up as Bill morphed the hex into a fire serpent that sprung towards Harold, "Bill's improved a bit." Rory remarked.

"Apparently." Tessa retorted as Harold deflected another hex as the serpent coiled back to strike him and even Rory stepped forward in time with her as it launched itself towards him. Harold, however, arced his wand downward at the last moment; causing the fire to flash before him and billow outwards. Even Bill held up his hand as the heat and fire went everywhere, mixing with the dust and debris from the earlier missed spells.

And just as quickly, it was gone and Harold was walking over to Minerva and Helena; Bill's body encased in several feet of glass, with a pocket around his head enabling him to breath.

"Damn lucky." Tessa heard Seamus remark to Ron.

"Ahh, let 'em believe that dear." Malcolm stated kissing her cheek softly.

"Fine piece of magic, Harold." Wendell stated clapping, several of the older folks joining him. "Making glass with base materials. Fine, fine work."

"Besides," Malcolm continued on as Filius too congratulated Harold, "you face Ron if I'm not mistaken."

"He's good, but too impatient." Tessa answered, "While you face Harry and," she turned to Rory, "who are you facing?"

"Seamus. You may be right regarding Ron but Malcolm, Harry will put you to the task."

"And Seamus?" Malcolm questioned.

"Ahh," a coy grin crossed his features, "I may have a bit of fun."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Michael felt his heart stop as Jayne's body crashed to the floor with a distinct thud, her wand easily fluttering in Albert's hand. The two previous duels had been evenly matched; Neville taking almost nine minutes to beat Molly and Marx besting Elliot in just under seven. While both wizards had fared well needing copious amounts of chocolate to offset some of their fatigue before their next duel - their opponents had opted for a more libatious counter to the bone weary fatigue – chocolate liquor. However, until the previous moment, no one had been hurt.

And he couldn't help but wonder why, now of all times, someone had to have gotten hurt – and why did it have to be Jayne? Helena wasn't well and if Jayne was not at St. Mungos acting as a filter for the Administrator; he wasn't sure how the next week would be – let alone the month after.

Helena was already kneeling before her as he walked up next to her; the remnants of a diagnostic still over Jayne's body. "Just had the wind knocked out of her, and be sore for a few days, but she'll be alright."

As if the words had been a waking spell, Jayne's face twisted as her eyes blinked open to see Helena and her apprentice. "Great," she muttered, "how long was I out?"

Helena extended her hand and assisted Jayne to stand, "Barely moments, you'll be fine but Michael can get you an ice pack because you'll have a bit of a headache later."

"So I can't use this to call in Monday?"

Helena's lips curled into a partial smile, "Absolutely, Michael wanted to learn more about my filing system."

Jayne chuckled and Micheal's eyes grew wide, praying to whatever God was listening to spare him that misery – he abhorred filing. "I can't do that to him, he won't come back after seeing what you've set up."

"I'm fairly certain he'd come back, now go get some ice." Helena steered her assistant to the back of the room with Michael.

Minerva waited a heartbeat before commenting to Helena, "Please tell me this wasn't your diabolical way of setting them up."

"I didn't orchestrate a borderline concussion." Helena chastised.

"Her being here…?"

A wry grin spread across Helena's face, causing her to turn away from everyone. "Alright, I may have had _something_ to do with that."

"When will you learn to stop meddling?"

"As if you haven't over the years." Helena countered.

"Name one." Minerva remarked before calling out for the next two participants. "Arthur and Luna."

"Esmerele and Kane."

Emerald momentarily locked onto blue eyes, "There was more there than you know."

Helena leaned in closer, "Isn't there always?"

Minerva pinched her lips in response as she stepped forward, "Wands at the ready…"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione's gaze slipped past Arthur to momentarily settle on Minerva for the first time since arriving this morning at the Manor. But it had been like trying to ignore a siren's call.

And after the first half dozen duels, she just couldn't ignore her any longer. The way the light seemed to cut around her figure, dancing off her features and she clenched her jaw forcing her gaze back to that of Luna and Arthur – however, her thoughts remained riveted to where her eyes had momentarily been.

Minerva appeared to have gotten a hint of rest by the rouge of her skin, and the light in her eyes. And a part of her wished she could hear the commentary between Minerva and Helena during the duels; having heard their dry repartee to know it would be both enlightening and enjoyable.

She watched as Luna deflected a hex as she mulled over, yet again, why Minerva wished to go after Phillip this evening after she would duel this morning? Granted, she didn't know if she'd be able beat Tessa, that was if she made it past Wendell. Because, she had an inkling from the way the bracket was set up that Wendell was far more than met the eye; as every potential duel led to at best a difficult adversary.

From Tessa to Rory to Filius…

Not one of them would be easy.

Undoubtedly, starting with Wendell.

_ But, still – why go after Phillip tonight? She'd be exhausted. Perhaps that's why Minerva had her face Wendell in the beginning; enabling her an opportunity to lose._

Luna's body fell to the ground, paralyzed momentarily doing the same to her thoughts.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory watched as his nephew and lover moved to the center of the room, eyes momentarily meeting Minerva's before she asked each to withdraw their wands; and as they bowed to the other – gray orbs narrowed and in a flash, their duel began.

George flung two hexes immediately, Perc nullifying both with little effort and then he raised his other arm and a hint of smile – Rory watched as his nephew showed his heritage. Casting spell after spell at a speed that defied reason, as bolt after bolt of white lightening sizzled and crashed into George's protego charms; pushing him until his back slammed into the wall.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Wow…" Tessa murmured, "what's gotten in to Perc?"

"He's not facing you or Mother." Audrey answered as George ran out of room, "He's always been a marvelous dueler." Audrey's eyes glanced to Minerva and back, "After all, look who his parents are."

Tessa winced as George pushed back, a blow glancing off his forehead blood instantly mixing into his hair and running down the side of his face. "He's never been as adapt at dueling."

"Compared to the lot of you, no. But, then George isn't you."

Their spells clashed, sparks flying in a dozen directions causing everyone to turn away from the burning light…

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva's hand was up before Helena could react, sparks pinging off a partial shield protecting them but enabling her to see George whip his wand; a lasso springing outward and before he could unleash it; it was slithering down his arm but not before he deflected Percival's next spell into the floor causing splinters to shoot outward.

"Is he Rory's new lover?" Helena asked as George nullified his botched lasso spell.

"Yes." Minerva quietly stated as George charged forward, unwilling to give up and met her son – whose eyes held an unusual spark that seemed to burn as bright as her husband's.

"No wonder why he fights with so much passion." Helena remarked, eyes following his lithe movements.

"To have caught Rory's eye, I have every confidence that he is passionate in all walks of life."

Helena stymied the chuckle on her lips, "Don't make an old woman jealous."

"Jealous, my dear? Of what precisely, young lustful love when you have a love that enraptures the soul."

"I do share something exceedingly precious," she winced as several thin metal daggers imbedded into his left arm, "but it would be nice to have a lover half my age. It leaves one to wonder how Rory keeps up."

"No," Minerva replied, "it doesn't as there are some things, love that I don't wish to know."

Helena outright laughed, "Too true."

"Though, he won't be up to doing much this evening if he doesn't beat your son soon."

Percival wound his wand in a sweeping arc, "Perc is a talented man, well beyond potions, but lost to ours and everyone else's dueling ability."

"Looks like…he's holding his own."

"He will, but he doesn't have the same stamina as George." Minerva stated already noticing a hint of fatigue in Percival's wand movements, "As he does brew potions most days." A hint of sadness laced her contralto, "George will win, though not from lack of trying."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva moved through the crowd as Helena called out for the next two participants – Tessa and Ronald as Iris joined her and Michael assisted Stetson from the area.

She paused by her son, gently resting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "You did well."

"I think so too." Audrey said kissing his right cheek, careful to avoid the bruising area.

And with a one final squeeze, she continued to her destination – to grab a hint of tea. "You aren't going to watch the duel?"

Minerva inwardly smiled at Hermione's coy remark as she cast a silencing charm about them, "The outcome will be the same either way." She stated as she poured a splash of whisky in Helena's coffee.

"True," Hermione said as Tessa and Ron bowed, "doesn't mean I don't want to see it."

Minerva turned with a cup of tea, as her daughter snapped her wand in a quick succession of flicks and the boards in the floor jumped up throwing Ronald off balance. "She'll not completely embarrass him."

"Then maybe she'll lose so I can." Hermione stated as Ron barely deflected a hex.

Minerva cocked her brow at the younger woman, wondering where the hostility towards Ronald was stemming from this morning. "I'd suggest worrying about Wendell and leave Ronald to Tessa," she calmly stated while stirring a hint of honey into her tea.

"Who is Wendell?" Hermione asked, not willing to jerk her gaze away.

"An old friend." Minerva replied as Ron's clothes morphed and his body collapsed under the weight of the lead he now wore as she reached behind her and picked up the second cup.

"How'd she do that?" Hermione finally turned.

"She's an alchemist, turning objects into various metals is a specialty."

"I'd think it was more transfiguration than alchemy."

"As you are probably aware, having a strong base in transfiguration is crucial in alchemy." Minerva took a step away, "Good luck, my dear."

Hermione swallowed her pride and reached out, "Am I to lose to him so I will have the energy to assist with Phillip this evening?"

Minerva fully turned back to Hermione, features twisted in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "Merlin, one would hope not. As we are not going after Phillip this evening, as I said we would discuss it this evening over dinner. Unless you'd rather spend it dodging spells?"

Hermione felt as if all the moisture had evaporated from her mouth and she was speaking through cotton, "Dinner sounds far more agreeable, if I'm able to move later."

Minerva chuckled as she nullified her silencing spell, "I have faith. Good luck."

Hermione remained rooted in the same spot as Helena's voice instructed Pomona and Fluer to bow. She barely noticed how each witch brandished their wands, vines wrapping around Fluer as spells were engulfed by fauna.

"Hey," Harry's touch brought the world back in a roar, "McG say anything helpful about Wendell?"

"An old friend," Hermione replied with a soft laugh well aware that Minerva's phrase could mean anything.

"So no then?" Harry said before yelling a watch out for Fluer's benefit, but it was immaterial as Fluer was felled by the spell.

Harry leaned in kissing Hermione's cheek, "Well, do be careful."

Hermione nodded, "Of course." And found her legs moving forward, her mind still fixated on Minerva's comment – _we'd discuss it this evening over dinner._

It was surreal, really. To move between people, have friends wishing her luck as she made her way forward; not having consciously heard her name, but knowing it had been called all the same.

_Dinner? When did Minerva indicate we were having dinner?_ She thought as she nodded to George who was still with Michael. _We haven't spoken since Thursday, and she said about discussing Phillip today. But dinner?_

Unconsciously, she withdrew her wand as she stopped in the center of the room; Wendell coming up beside her.

_Then when are we going after Phillip? Or does she not mean too?_

Minerva's voice cut through the air and her thoughts as she spoke, "Wands at the ready."

Brown eyes flashed upwards to the elder witch, as she rolled her wand in her fingers. _"And does that mean dinner in her quarters, here at the Manor…_

"Bow…"

And any further thought was waylaid as an immobilizing charm was about to strike her, and with a flourish it jerked into the wall. _Damn, _Hermione thought, _that was close_. She hadn't even seen him cast the spell, which didn't bode well – at all._ Just focus,_ Hermione thought. _I can do this._

Another hex was hurdling towards her, and another and she couldn't help but wonder who the man opposite was. His spells were as fast as Filius' and with movements as deft as Minerva. The world about her began melting away as her focus on extraneous matters waned and her eyes latched upon the way he moved his wrist, arm, body and she gained a heartbeat as she deflected the spell and the subsequent one – her training beginning to take over.

She stopped worrying about the mess with Phillip, this evening's dinner with Minerva, and how she felt about having dinner with Minerva…

_Minerva._

She cast a protego charm and spun her wand in an arc to take the percussion and wield it forward into a wind charm.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Filius stepped forward as Wendell attacked Hermione without reservation, spell after spell flying towards the younger woman which she was barely able to deflect or shield against. By the fifth one, Filius was down right concerned; as Hermione seemed distracted and while he and Minerva had spoken regarding the tournament last evening and who to have Hermione duel against – now he wasn't so sure.

Granted, Wendell was a formidable opponent. More than formidable if he had maintained his skill, which from the way he was casting indicated he had to a limited degree; but Hermione still _should_ be able to take him at this point in her training. And not be defending against him like a first year battling a seventh. Which she was, and he hazard a glance to Minerva – and was certain she shared his disbelief by the pinch of her lips.

And he couldn't help wonder where the woman was who had pushed him to his limits not so long ago, who had brilliantly defended the Manor on New Year's, and had managed to superheat the length of the entire hallway – stone and all…

Had something happened this morning? He knew that things were not well between she and her ex-husband, as he had overheard their brief exchange this morning. But, to distract her so completely, surely that wasn't all.

He watched as she sent a powerful wind charm back at Wendell, mind coursing through possibilities as to her stymied performance thus far. He knew that her father was to be released today, and that she was still grieving for her mother…perhaps something else occurred in conjunction with her children.

Wendell morphed the wind into a flurry of black ghosts – remembering the first time he had ever witnessed the summoning spell. It had been his first day of classes at Hogwarts, Wendell had been his DADA Professor; it had left a lasting impression as the then spindly man showed his students an inkling of what it meant to defend against the dark arts.

He heard a murmuring of awe at Wendell's spell, but Filius' kept his eyes on Minerva's protégé. Wondering how she would defend against the ethereal beings as Wendell sent a paralyzing curse upon the wings of his ghosts.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena had once again silenced their conversation before leaning incrementally closer as Wendell sent a litany of spells at Hermione. "I imagine you had your reasons for setting the tournament as you did, but having her face Wendell in her first duel, she'll not win against him unless she is capable of defeating Filius consistently."

Minerva's gaze didn't leave the seemingly lopsided exchange, "Filius and I spoke last evening and he assisted in devising who would face who."

"And your respective reasoning to have her face Wendell initially?" Helena questioned as the deflected hex streaked past an unmoving Minerva. "Watch it, that was close."

"We wanted to push her."

"Push? Wendell, Tessa, Rory, Filius…she'll be lucky to beat Wendell let alone anyone else."

"I believe she can." Minerva quietly stated, turning to Helena. Green eyes daring blue to doubt her.

"Even on a good day, you or Harold would have a difficult time coming out of that bracket to the finals."

"True," Minerva replied, "but what everyone fails to realize is that she isn't merely good, Helena." Her voice momentarily trailing off as Wendell summoned a liege of black ghosts, "She has the capabilities to be great."

Helena watched as a Wendell fired off another spell, "She just needs a push?"

"Yes…" Minerva murmured as Hermione quickly wound her wand, "so she stops analyzing every detail and begins to trust her instincts."

A jinx sprung from Hermione's wand, and it spiraled through the ghosts connecting with Wendell's curse – and in the next heartbeat, she created a wave of humidity; weighing the very air down slowing the ghosts movement enabling her to cast a another two spells before Wendell could retaliate. "It'll take more than instinct to beat Wendell and half the others." Helena countered, remembering how Wendell had trounced Filius in his first tournament shortly after the war.

"Have faith." Minerva stated as she forced her wand to morph in a heartbeat, striking the wood floor and charming a protego spell around both she and Helena as a deflected jinx crashed into the shield – a loud percussion and brilliant spark echoing through the chamber drawing the duel to a momentary halt as all eyes turned to the two witches hidden behind a glowing spell. "Now _that,_ my dear, was close." Minerva remarked as Helena blinked the stars away to see Minerva flexing her hand as the shield began to melt away.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

The percussion and light caused both Hermione and Wendell to stop and turn to Minerva and Helena.

It was something that rarely happened, but it could and today – apparently did, the official or mediators were in harms way. Before the start of the tournament, everyone had stated their concern regarding both of their safety; but Minerva had assured everyone that they would be quite fine that it was less than one percent that the trajectory of a spell would veer towards them…

Less than one percent indeed, as that seemed to be the odds that existed around Minerva of late, Hermione looked upon the dissipating protego charm with a mixture of concern and relief. Concern that it hadn't blocked the whole of the spell but relief that one had been erected so quickly.

However, as it began melting away, she could see Minerva say something to Helena as the healer's eyes cast a downward glance; and Hermione tried to follow suite, but could still not see below their shoulder's as the remnants of the spell existed about their mid-section.

"Are you both well?" Wendell questioned to Helena and Minerva as Hermione could see the vague outline of Minerva's walking stick vanish and her right hand become buried beneath her left forearm as the last of the protego charm vanished.

"Please continue, as we are both quite fine." Minerva stated, but Hermione's eyes remained upon her now hidden hand – and knew in her heart that the elder witch was lying, from the way long fingers were now hidden from view the tips were undoubtedly burnt.

Hermione forced herself to turn and meet Wendell, mind still riveted upon the way Minerva had discretely tucked her fingers beneath her arm as both witch and wizard raised their wands, spells upon both their lips as the black ghosts rematerialized two meters in front of Hermione…

And she didn't hesitate.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius watched as Hermione transfigured the ethereal wisps into a solid bulky mass of armor that in a blink had collapsed into a molten pile of cherry metal that shot forward as a tiger. Wendell didn't move as it latched on his arm, his wand hand reaching out and touching its ear and pulling.

The body of the tiger morphed into a pile of thread that he whirled around his head and let go – the string grew rounder and longer until a long snake coiled back to strike as it barred its fangs at the witch. However, with the hiss, another two appeared – one on either side of the first snake.

Golden orbs narrowed as he watched Hermione move her wand with precision, transfiguring the snake into a Griffen and striding closer to Wendell as the Griffen became embattled with large reptiles. But it was the set of her shoulders; the quick wand strokes; the _something_ more that intrigued Filius as Hermione's spell sizzled air.

He had first witnessed the hint of her greatness when they were dueling some months ago, and she had been obviously distracted by something and with her thoughts momentarily elsewhere – the power of her spell had come close to doubling. Since then, he had witnessed Hermione tapping in on her potential on a handful of other occasions, and that was the reason last night he had suggested putting her against Wendell – she needed to be taxed, pushed, by someone else.

But, from the way she reacted at the onset versus now, there was something else other than Hermione needing to be challenged.

They traded spells back and forth; but as one of the snakes went to strike, Hermione moved to the left causing it to miss and with a flick its body hurled through the air – Wendell's spell paralyzing it as she obliterated the body into a dense smoke that hurled forward and before he could counter it; the back third of the room morphed into a block of ice.

Wendell's body was momentarily frozen as the room erupted in applause as Hermione wiped her brow; and turned to the group, a smile on her face.

He joined the clapping as Hermione walked over to Helena and Minerva, "I'll be back shortly, love." Filius said as he began walking forward. His decision made. If Hermione was going to begin to embrace her potential, she needed to learn to focus on whatever she had been during the latter part of the duel.

"…done." Helena stated.

Minerva kept her hand entrenched behind the sleeve of her robe, "Wonderful spell work, dear."

Filius paused another heartbeat at having overheard the rare endearment as Hermione spoke. "Thank you. Are you sure you are both alright?"

"Nothing that shan't heal." Minerva quietly replied as Filius drew up to the small group and could easily read that something was afoot. "Filius?"

"I have need to borrow Hermione for a short time, can you adjust the second tier brackets accordingly?"

Gold and emerald met, as brown and blue eyes danced with unasked questions. "Of course." Minerva simply answered and Filius turned to Hermione.

"If you could come with me."

"Ahh…" Hermione glanced to Minerva and then hurried after the diminutive man who moved surprisingly quick when he wished to. "Is everything well with Hogwarts?"

"Fine, fine." Filius replied as the stepped through a side door of the ballroom and into the quiet sanctity of the Manor. No sooner had they closed the door behind them, and Bonnie appeared. Whatever had been on her lips to say, fell silent as she stared at Filius and Hermione.

"Is there something you require?"

"A room with some privacy." Filius answered, "Perhaps the den?"

Bonnie pointed to the second floor, "The library or a bedroom upon the second floor. The grandchildren are within the den and do not always remain there."

Hermione held her commentary, barely.

"Is the library unlocked?"

"Yes, Minerva is within the Manor."

"Thank you." Filius began moving towards the spiraling staircase.

"Is it possible for a bit of chocolate and some water?" Hermione quietly asked and then quickly added, "Unless there is some within the library, I'll help myself."

"I'll have some brought," Bonnie said as she patted Hermione's arm. "Nice duel Hermione."

Hermione tipped her head, "You were watching?"

A smile broke across Bonnie's wizened features, "Of course. Minerva sets up special seating for duels within the home for the elves."

"How many of the elves are watching?"

"All that do not have elsewhere to be. Even Elgin will be here for the later rounds."

"And you?"

Bonnie chuckled, "I am working now so I too can watch later," she nodded to the stairs that Filius was already ascending, "go, and good luck against Madame Tessa in the next round." And with a muffled pop, the elder elf was gone.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"What was that about?" Helena asked as Hermione darted after Filius.

"I have no idea." Minerva withdrew her wand but felt Helena's hand upon her forearm.

"Don't. And what do you mean you have no idea? Is there something going on with Hogwarts?"

"I'll let you get the next several, and I don't know. I'll ask Filius later, I'm sure he had a good reason to leave temporarily." Minerva didn't wait for a reply, her wand slicing through the air as she transfigured the ice into air and felt her hand stiffen more as her stomach lurched and Wendell paused in his wand movement to realize that his opponent was no longer present.

"I take it from the chill in my fingers and no Hermione that she has won?" he inquired as Minerva dropped her right hand down and behind her back.

Helena nodded, "Though you both had quite the duel."

"Where is the winner, I'd like to congratulate her."

"Filius and she had to address some Hogwarts business," Minerva smoothly stated as Wendell stopped in front of them.

"Ahh, I remember those days well." He stated with a hint of amusement in his voice, "I'll speak with her upon her return." His eyes softened as they swept over Minerva's face, "And you, Minerva, are you sure you are alright? That spell seemed to strike rather close to you."

"A slight burn, nothing more; I assure you Wendell." Minerva let him see her hand.

"I am sorry, nonetheless." He gently remarked, "I take it your cohort will treat it upon a break?"

Helena nodded, "Yes, I've become quite good at it."

Kind eyes met theirs, "You both have far surpassed good some time ago."

"Wendell, I can't thank you enough for coming today." Sincerity ringing from Minerva's voice.

Helena edged past them to call Harry and Malcolm out.

"I will continue to attend, thank you for inviting me." He whispered, before leaning over to kiss her cheek.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione stepped into the two-story room, feeling oddly at ease within as she did. She did so love books.

The library smelled of leather tombs, sheaves of paper and a hint of oil permeated over the crackling fire; and her eyes easily noted the abnormality within the room. A massage table was set up behind the chairs, tables and chesterfield.

Filius' eyes followed hers, "Minerva has been seeing Pierre with far more regularity of late."

An image of Minerva lying on the massage table within the den just before Christmas sprang to mind; the long lines of her shoulders, arms, how her body was covered by little more than a sheet as her black hair draped to the side highlighting how milky her complexion is. "Her hip." Hermione cleared her throat, as the pieces from the last several weeks clicked. "That's why she's walking better."

"It would seem." Filius turned as a tray appeared on the coffee table.

"But I'm sure that's not why you asked me here." Hermione said with far more ease than she felt, because Merlin if he had somehow suspected her growing feelings regarding Minerva…she stopped her borderline panic as she picked up a bar of chocolate.

"While I am concerned regarding Minerva, that is not why I wished to speak with you." He moved around the edge of the chesterfield with care, "Rather regarding you."

"Me?" Hermione half squeaked, trying to remember to breathe.

"And your dueling."

It was with a guarded optimism that perhaps the conversation would steer clear of her greatest worry that caused Hermione to repeat the last word of his comment, "Dueling?"

"Yes, or more precisely your focus."

Another layer of apprehension peeled away, and she was finally able to swallow the ball that had lodged in the back of her throat away. "Focus while dueling." She took a glass from the tray, "We haven't discussed this."

"No, I have been reluctant as there are times when we have dueled that you seem to overanalyze. Logic has been ruling your response."

_Thank God,_ Hermione thought as she nodded, _I didn't blow it during the duel when I could barely tear my eyes away from Minerva at seeing her hurt._ "There's just too much between watching the body and wand movement; then the spells and conjuring a defense let alone an offense. I do tend to analyze first and react afterwards."

"And you are doing quite well, Hermione." Filius warmly stated. "But you need to let go."

* * *

Xoox

* * *

Harry's robe billowed about his shoulders as he ducked, permitting the tickling charm to skim by his shoulder; elated that he had managed to actually avoid the spell without getting struck. _It worked, _his mind screamed as Malcolm's eyes widened at seeing the spell already leaving his wand.

He and Hermione had been practicing twice a week since the first of the year after seeing her dodge a menagerie of spells on the pitch. _And it actually worked._

Not that he hadn't believed her. After all, he had seen it first hand. And their first time they met, it had taken almost five minutes before he had been able to stun her. She walked him through the concept, even danced a bit to show him what she meant about watching how a body moved.

They had both stumbled and laughed at awkward they danced, but it proved a point. And he had spent the next three days taking Ginny to various dances…

Before his world had been momentarily stilled, by almost losing the two most important women in his life – his wife and his best friend.

However, since then; he and Hermione had met three times this past week – since the last Order meeting. They hadn't gone to the practical application yet…

But his face broke into a grin as Malcolm's body stilled; because it worked.

"Damn," he whispered, "that's cool."

* * *

Xoox

* * *

"That doesn't make sense," she countered, "as you cannot simply react without thought when dueling, especially in a tournament like today. What if you hurt someone?"

"I'm not saying that you don't react without thought, but part of your magic is stymied because you don't let it flow over you naturally."

"Of course I do."

"No," Filius carefully rebuked, "you don't. When you were initially dueling against Wendell, you were struggling to defend yourself and counter his attacks. Whereas, after the pause, something changed and it was no longer work for you to counter his attacks – but you did so with seeming ease."

The tension in Hermione's body quadrupled, "I ah…merely had a better idea how to duel him."

"This isn't the first time I've noticed the difference in your dueling." His voice becoming strangely soft despite it's naturally higher pitch.

"It isn't?" Hermione barely whispered, almost afraid to give the question voice; not knowing if she could handle his answer.

Years of counseling students and colleagues told him to tread carefully by her timid question, "No. I've noticed it prior, and have figured it has something to do with a particular person, place…" he gently placed his hand upon her knee, "what were you thinking during the second part of the duel?"

"I don't remember." Hermione lied as she stood, walking toward the fireplace as she brought her arms up and crossed them before her chest.

Filius swallowed, not knowing if he should push, as their relationship was that of a colleague – and not friendship. She had been his student, one of the brightest he had ever been fortunate enough to teach; and for her tenure here – he used to give Minerva a devil of a time as to how Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw. She was undoubtedly the brightest witch of her age, not only in written knowledge but practical as she had taken to the arduous task of body movement with comparatively little difficulty and in a short period of time. However, whatever was holding her back from embracing an unparalleled skill was obviously upsetting on a deeply emotional level; and if she didn't overcome it…she'd be a tremendously gifted witch, possibly even soar to the likes of his friends Helena and Minerva but she'd never be as good as she could be.

Sighing, Filius stood. There were times he detested his intellect, and how he could see things so…logically. "That isn't true," he quietly countered, "though I wish I could believe you. But I can't."

Hermione couldn't breathe as the steps neared.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Aurora and Pansy." Helena's clear cadence ringing across the hall.

Minerva caught Harold's keen eye as Harry met George, Charlie and several others. His look holding the same one as Rory's; and while she knew a possible answer, now was not the time to delve into it.

She'd speak with Hermione this evening to see if her suspicion was correct and that she had begun to impart the information regarding body movement to Harry.

Helena continued as with the duel asking the persons to have their wands at the ready, while Minerva mused on fluid movement of Potter's body as he moved and had already been casting a spell at a very surprised Malcolm.

Minerva glanced to the tournament board, and Harry's next opponent. The day had just gotten far more interesting indeed.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Were you thinking of Mr. Weasley?"

Despite herself, a chortle fell from her lips. "Hardly," she replied.

"Your children?" Filius questioned.

Brown eyes lifted to the tapestry of names, landing on Edgar Meric Merlyn. "No," she narrowed her eyes noting that only one parental name was beneath his – and that there were only initial versus the whole name, H.J.M. And she couldn't help but note the irony, much like the one she now found herself in. Some couple birthed the most noted wizard in history, and no one knew who they were. The only clue was one set of initials upon an aged tapestry that few would ever be privy too.

"Parents?"

"Please Filius, let this go." She whispered, praying that she let her secret remain as hidden as the identity forever remained unknown for Merlin's parents. "And I'll find a way to use this to focus while I duel."

"It isn't something that you'll simply be able to focus on and use," Filius gently countered, "you have to find a way to embrace it."

_Embrace it, _rung out in her head as her fingers reached out and clutched the mantle; her head hanging in defeat. "I can't," she murmured as tears burned against the backs of her eyes; and the thoughts and feelings she had been trying to ignore surged to the forefront as they had during the last part of the duel.

"What could possibly be so troubling that you would wish to close yourself off from?"

Images of Minerva coursed through her, and she felt the warm liquid beginning dripping from her lashes as the tears started. "Please Filius," her voice sounding broken and meek as she pushed on, "it's better for all involved, just to let this go."

"No," he softly replied, "not to you." He waved his hands and with years of experience, he was floating next to her and gently pulling the weighted woman's gaze to his. And there staring into his eyes were bronze colored orbs – emotion stifling and dying behind fear. "Is it George and you're worried about the repercussion with the rest of the family?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Michael levitated Pansy's body from the floor as Poppy and Angelina stepped around him. Poppy glanced at the way he had placed her leg in a stasis field until she had ingested a litany of potions to heal the bone.

Who would have thought that Aurora Sinistra was that good at dueling? Granted, he had believed she would hold her own, but to take Pansy so quickly?

He saw George making his way through the crowd taking bets on the coming duel and he just couldn't see Poppy defeating Angelina.

She was an Auror, had specialized training; but after watching Sinistra he began to wonder if Hogwarts required their professors to have specialized training too? After all, a third of the persons here were Hogwarts professors – either current or past.

And it wasn't like Minerva and Filius weren't two of the best duelists in the world; though a few others had seemed good too. Potter and his friend, Hermione – the one who had helped Minerva bring Helena back; were adept too.

"Angelina." Michael mouthed to George as the two witches bowed.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

For a handful of heartbeats, Hermione thought of agreeing with Filius. But she knew he'd see the statement for what it was, and she leaned forward; kissing his cheek. "I wish it were." She cleared her throat as she back up, realizing that all her worry had been for naught. After all, who would believe what was happening?

Minerva was decades older. Had been married to Albus bloody Dumbledore and had four children. She had survived three wars. Was the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and had taught at the school for over a half century.

Had taught even taught her over a decade ago.

They had been friends.

Well…she had believed they had been friends until having learned so much about Minerva these past months; to know that before this term year, she had been an acquaintance to her.

But that had slowly morphed into friendship.

And somewhere along the line – their friendship had become to mean so much more. There wasn't a defining moment that had caused her care for the elder witch as more than a friend; it had been gradual. A slow shift, which now looking back; had started far sooner than she'd care to believe.

In a way, she had begun to wonder if it had started years ago; as she always held Minerva in a special place in her life.

But never like she did now.

Now, the mere presence of the woman seemed to dwarf all but her children; which her angels seemed to merely amplify Minerva's attributes and siren's call.

And as much as she tried to deny it, didn't mean it hadn't already happened – she was falling in love with Minerva McGonagall.

It was inconceivable to believe it could happen. But it did, and had.

And it couldn't.

Dear heavens, she couldn't fall in love with her; no matter _how_ much she wanted too. The complications were astronomical, and the two most resounding reasons – first, she was dying. Had said so, and would admitted that it would be in less than a year. What person in their right mind would fall in love with someone who was dying? Second – Minerva wouldn't love a woman; and she still didn't know how she felt about it. Granted, the notion was growing on her daily – her body obviously having already decided how she felt about the elder witch; but for Minerva to love her?

It was absurd.

Ridiculous.

And some small part of her heart and soul harbored the hope that it would happen.

That she'd have the opportunity to taste those lips, even if it was just once.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva barely schooled her face as Rory paused by Seamus, gravelly voice raking across the dance floor as he kneeled down. "Most of my friends' are nah run of da mill wizards Mr. Finnegan."

With a wand stroke, Seamus' body released from the paralyzing curse. "I'm sorry I said that."

Gray eyes narrowed, "I didna attend Hogwarts, Seamus. Doesna mean I cannea defend myself."

"I've learned." Seamus replied as he sat up, trying not to wince as he did.

"Good," Rory stood extending his hand as he did, "it'll keep ya alive longer."

Seamus took the offered hand, "Beneficial for us both," Seamus continued at Rory's quirked brow, "as I'm partial ta my friends havin' a wee accent too."

"Well that'll leave the lot of them out." Rory nodded to Dean and the rest of the younger wizards causing a round of chuckles as Draco and Kane stepped around the group with an equal air of arrogance.

"I hope that Kane kicks the shit out of Draco." Dean muttered.

Rory didn't have to reply as Neville did, "Kane might be good, but like it or not, Draco can hold his own."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius' intellect were at times, both a wonder and a curse. He heard her whispered response, could see the love she was trying to deny within the clear bronze hue. And his mind careened ahead.

She had denied that it was her ex-spouse. Her children. While she hadn't denied it had been her parents, the very nature of her response to the question had eliminated them as a possibility.

She wished it were George, meaning that she'd rather it he than who? His mind took a brief side winding road – as he knew from the glow about the younger wizard that he had been engaged with someone. Obviously it wasn't Hermione, and he thought of the other woman in the Order or other possible matches and alternate changes in behavior.

And his brain caught in formidable fashion as the rare smiles seen by reticent Highlander and how often he was spending time in the low country and the unwillingness to reveal _who_ his lover was.

_Well that is one mystery solved,_ Filius thought as Hermione stepped back; golden eyes watching the subtle relief mix with a hint of sadness, yearning, friendship, shame, fear, and a burgeoning sense of love.

There was no one else within the Weasley family she spent time with other than; Ginerva. But even then, it was rarely the two of them. The only person other than Minerva she had spent an inordinate amount of time with was Harry – and each one of those feelings could be explained.

Except the hope that flashed across withdrawing features.

Hope.

He couldn't imagine Hermione hoping for something to happen to Ginerva, he had witnessed how upset she had been and spent long evenings with her at the hospital.

And if it wasn't Harry…

His body began sinking, as golden eyes widened and Hermione's saw the flash of realization pass across his face as the three syllable name feel from his lips.

"Minerva."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

A pin drop could be heard as every occupant simply stared, even Minerva.

It had after all been a _long_ time since she had seen that level of transfiguration practiced by anyone _other_ than herself.

Kane turned to her, a roguish smile on his lips as he tipped his head in respect before lifting his wand back up; and in a series of flourish strokes and languid movements a hazy blue spell sprung forth enveloping the gothic grandfather clock and Draco's body collapsed to the floor with a cough.

"Easy does it." Kane said, placing his hand beneath Draco's shoulder to help him stand.

"I didn't even see you cast the spell." Draco wheezed as he took in another deep breath.

Helena turned to Minerva, ensuring her back was to the rest of the room and the exiting contestants. "Can you do that?"

Minerva's brow arched as her gaze slid to shocked blue eyes, "At one time." Before she crisply stated outward, "We are going to take a fifteen minute recess and then begin with Harold versus Marx as Hermione and Filius had to attend to Hogwarts business and seemed to have been temporarily delayed."

"I've never seen you flaunt your skills so…openly." Helena countered, "As a matter of fact, in all our years of friendship, I've never seen you do anything like that before."

Emerald eyes hardened, "He was my apprentice, Helena. But he tends to have a flair for the dramatic, which my husband only emboldened farther during his apprenticeship."

"You've always performed lower level transfiguration while in public. I just," she patted Minerva's shoulder as she turned, "sometime forget, how skilled you are."

"We all have our areas of expertise," Minerva replied, "as you do wonders in the healing realm that leaves me breathless."

"Nah," George's boisterous voice ringing outward, "he's not in my bracket, but yours."

Minerva watched as Harry shook his head, her keen hearing picking up his response. "Don't remind me."

"Do you think Harold can take Kane?" Helena asked pulling Minerva back from George and Harry's conversation.

"I do." Harold replied, kissing Helena's cheek and then Minerva's. "But then, I'm partial."

"That you are," Minerva replied as her eyes scanned the crowd for Filius and Hermione for the umpteenth time, wondering _what_ Filius wished to discuss with Hermione; "but I still believe if you two meet, you can take him." She brought her focus back to Harold, "Just remember, dear, he was my apprentice for seven years; and he will be using your weakest area against you."

"Weakest?" Harold scoffed, "Now if you had said divination, truer words wouldn't have been spoken."

"I think your dismal divination skills surpass your transfiguration ones, love." Helena stated.

He shrugged, "Never found it much use."

"Well Kane, like I, do." Minerva replied.

"No love," blue eyes danced with humor, "you find many things of value, not just one discipline. I'll be interested to see what philosophy he has embraced."

"While interesting, I believe I'm more interested in seeing how far Hermione makes it through the gauntlet she and Filius placed her in."

Harold wrapped his arm around his wife, "If she duels as she did the second part against Wendell, then she'll make it pass Tessa. Tessa's mind seems to be elsewhere today."

"She miscarried." Minerva softly relayed, "Seems my ill health lead to…"

"Don't." Helena stated cutting off any further remarks, blue eyes instantly ablaze. "There are hundreds of other reasons for miscarriages."

Minerva swallowed any rebuttals, it would help no one and she let the words die unspoken. "Either way, she is not feeling particularly well today."

"Nor will she after I give her a piece of my mind." Helena snapped.

"Love." Harold's voice held a hint of warning.

"To blame Minerva…" Harold's eyes flashed as did their bond, and Helena growled in frustration. "Fine." A measure of concern began to break through the icy depths, "Has she seen a healer?"

"Wednesday morning."

"That explains why it didn't flag." Helena muttered, her thoughts and motivations having been redirected by Phillip's escape. "Any lasting effects?"

"No." Minerva replied, "Other than fatigue which is abating."

"Well, if she loses against Hermione; odds of Hermione making it past Rory?"

Both Helena and Minerva's faces became skeptical; Helena speaking first. "Twenty – eighty. Rory."

"I'll take that in reverse." Minerva finally stated.

Harold's eyes widened, "You think she can take him?"

Minerva didn't pause, "Yes, I do."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

And for a handful of heartbeats, the world stopped. Filius could see brown eyes widen as her hand came to her mouth, shock lacing the whole of her face, erasing any doubt that his supposition was inaccurate – though for both his and her sake, it would have been better if he had been.

But he hadn't been.

Vaguely he was aware that his legs had jolted from the ground's impact, his charm not holding over the resounding shock as the implications of _who_ Hermione was beginning to care for began to ripple through him.

"Oh dear heavens," he breathed as chocolate eyes frantically blinked back tears. He gripped the edge of the chesterfield to steady himself, "Well I can see how that could be a problem." He cleared his throat, trying not to make more of the situation than it was – which was difficult, considering _how_ utterly complex it truly was.

"Filius…" Hermione finally managed, "no one knows."

He met her imploring gaze and sighed before giving a solitary nod. An unspoken agreement made between them that he wouldn't tell either. After all, he had been the one to bring her here to push. Damn logic, he eyed the liquor cabinet. "Don't take this wrong, Hermione; but I believe I have a need for a drink." He strode over, internally musing over the mess he had thrust unintentionally in the middle of. _And what a mess_,he thought as he opened the cabinet, not bothering to read the label. _He would find a way to repay Minerva later,_ he wandlessly summoned a glass and poured a generous amount before turning to the unmoving witch. "Care for one?"

"Very much." Hermione finally moved forward, and with trembling fingers took the proffered glass.

Filius tipped the bottle and opted to leave it out, he was certain they'd both need another and might as well finish off the bottle considering where they both had to return too and with a wave banished it to the coffee table before turning to Hermione and motioning to the seating area. "You'll forgive me that I am mildly surprised, but not because of why– but more in regards to her past than your feelings."

Hermione sat, feeling oddly relieved that _someone _know; but still incredibly nervous for who he may tell or what he may ask. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Yes, well; there in lies the problem." Filius said with a weighted sigh, "As there have been times regarding Minerva that our knowledge has reached an insurmountable impasse, and I fear that this morning we will reach that far too often for your liking. For that, you have my profoundest apologies."

"Then you aren't surprised…that I…ahhh care for her?" Hermione watched him closely, and was once more reminded as to why he was Minerva's deputy.

"Not at all," Filius easily replied, "she's an amazing woman."

"But then, why _were_ you surprised?"

Filius twirled the glass within dexterous fingers, "Timing."

"I'm not going to get more of an answer, am I?" At Filius' subtle shake no, she sighed. "Is it because she's…dying?" she asked, stumbling over the final word of the question.

Filius' jaw rippled, and he had to lower his head lest she see the horrifying truth regarding how little time Minerva truly had left. "No," he finally forced from his lips, feeling as though he was betraying them both. One for not relaying the dire truth, the other for answering questions that would lead to revelations she didn't wished to be known.

"Filius…this isn't…easy," white knuckled fingers clutched at her glass, "and while I know you feel you can't reveal some things, I have to wonder then why you pushed to know?"

"Because," Filius lifted tear filled eyes, "I…the odds…" he chuckled at logic's sense of irony, and relayed a sliver of the enigma he could not fully divulge. "I never would have thought that Minerva was the person you were falling in love with." He held up his hand, "It has nothing to do with the age difference, nor any other belief you can conceive – so please let the question be. However, looking at it from a fresh perspective, I can see the allure that Minerva would have to you. She is undoubtedly one of the few persons you've encountered who can intellectually stimulate you, and she is an attractive woman – even more so if you are fortunate enough to witness her in something _other_ than what has become her traditional teaching robes. And I daresay, she is marvelous with children – and both of yours are rather taken with her. But, while those are some of the superficial reasons, I'd venture I haven't scratched the surface as to why you feel as you do." He took a hefty sip from his glass, "I am sorry, Hermione. For more than you'll ever know, because when I pushed, I surmised it was someone else – and if I had known, I…" he met her gaze with a sorrowful one of his own, "do not know if I would have gone ahead and pushed as I did."

"Then you believe it is as foolish as I?" Hermione whispered tipping her head to the heavens.

"No." He honestly answered, as images of Minerva's memory washed over him. Images of the woman opposite sitting in this very room with her two young children, Christmas paper and half filled glasses of wine. "I don't."

At once, Hermione's head snapped back. "Huh?"

"I don't think it's foolish," Filius quietly repeated, and added the caveat that he needed to, "but I also am afraid that it isn't plausible."

"Wait, what?" Hermione scooted forward, "Not plausible, how? Why?"

"Quid pro quo." Filius answered.

Hermione quickly acquiesced, "Alright, but why the…"

"I can't answer everything you want to know, Hermione." Filius honestly stated, "So ask me five questions and I will do my utmost to answer them; and afterwards…"

"Impasse." Hermione and Filius said as one, and Filius nodded.

"Even if you know the answer?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes."

"Then go," Hermione drained the whole glass of whisky, as her heart hammered against her ribs as her mind scattered across the minefield named Minerva McGonagall and the thousand questions lying across it – the problem was, which ones to ask.

"What were you thinking of during the latter part of the duel?"

Hermione pursed her lips, eyes flickering to the empty tumbler, and back as she set the glass down on the coffee table; and flattened her hands out on her robes. "This won't go beyond us?"

"Not even to my wife." Filius assured her.

"Hell," she muttered, "I…" she subconsciously ran her hands down the length of her legs, "I…heard Minerva answer Wendell and knew she was lying. Even now as I close my eyes," a tear slipped down her cheek as she followed her command, "I see how she buries her wand hand behind the crook of her left arm, hiding what is surely burnt fingertips from view."

Filius watched as Hermione's facial features began to relax as she spoke of Minerva, her voice filled with respect and a hint of reverence laced with love.

"I remember having to pull my gaze back to his," her voice became lighter, "I didn't want anyone to notice if it lingered. But as the ghosts rematerialized, I…I just knew how to stop the ghosts and it became easier to see his wand movements, along with his body." She opened her eyes to see his boring into her.

"And what were you thinking regarding Minerva?"

"I wasn't…"

"Don't, Hermione." Filius edged forward, "You were. Either consciously or unconsciously, but you were. Now, think back."

"I don't remember…thinking…"

"Then what were you feeling?"

"Protection." Hermione replied without thought and then frowned at what she said as her brain processed it, "I was worried that she'd be hurt."

"Your turn." Filius prompted.

"You knew her before she married Albus, and…well…I mean…"

"Just ask." Filius stated, "Do not make this harder than it is."

"I'm a woman, Filius; as is she. Is there any hope or reason, that you know of, I mean…have you ever seen her express interest in another woman?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Alas, the sun has once again set and the day is gone and I have only a simple payment to give of words and thought – may they leave you with dreams and hope until our paths come by way of these winding roads and by chance intersect again. _

_As always, hope you enjoyed! And for those interested, there is an electronic version of the tournament bracket - but I'm looking for somewhere to post it (if there are people interested). Ideas? _


	94. Chapter 90b January 23rd, 2010

_a/n: Sorry for the extreme delay, I'll merely synthesize it down to a singular reason - work. Get comfortable, this next snippet is a wee bit long._

**Chapter 90b ~ January 23****rd****, 2010 (Saturday)**

**part 2**

Harry watched as Marx limped off the floor and glanced to the board – Harold's name advancing to the next round.

_Damn._

He had been thankful not to have to face the mysterious wizard in the first round, but he couldn't help wishing that Harold had been on the other side of the bracket. _Not that he wished Hermione to have to face him, but really of the options, he'd much rather it be her than him._

"He's going to be tough to get by." Angelina stated drawing up next to him.

"I don't think Kane is going to be any easier." Harry commented as George and Albert stepped out.

"Isn't he the one who apprenticed under McGonagall?"

"Yeah, but at least we know a little about him." Harry's voice dropped, "Harold, though, works in the department of mysteries and has for decades. There is no telling what he is or isn't good at."

"Everything." Angelina quipped.

Harry's face twisted as he responded, "That's helpful."

"So is saying that Kane' good in transfiguration, no shit Sherlock."

Harry laughed outright, "Point taken."

"Have you seen Hermione or Filius come back?"

"No, hope nothing serious is going on up at Hogwarts." A hint of concern lacing Harry's voice.

"If so, there would be several more vacancies; including McGonagall."

"Depends," Harry retorted, "if it dealt with the castle or just a handful of students."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

An eternity seemed to have passed as Hermione waited for Filius to answer. He sat there unmoving, appearing frozen as the fire contently crackled on; her heart unmercifully pounding against her ribs in anticipation because…of all the questions she could ask, _this_ was the most important one.

_Because if the answer was no, then really what was the point?_

She wasn't maudlin, but realistic. _Besides, Minerva had been married to Albus for close to fifty years, the answer was probably a resounding…_

"Once." Filius carefully stated, finally glancing up.

_no._ Hermione's thought finally finished as her brain stopped along with her breath; face falling in shock. "You're sure?" she asked stealing the scant amount of oxygen still in her lungs to speak.

"I doubt Minerva knew I was there." Filius thought back, it seemed like a lifetime ago now; "It was perhaps a year after the war, maybe a bit more. I was stationed in Egypt," Filius saw the question brewing in suddenly very large brown eyes and answered it, "I remained an Auror for two years after the war. I was leaving a tavern when I noticed Minerva, and curtailed my attempt to say hello when a seemingly friendly good night kiss went much farther."

"You mean, she…kissed another woman in an ally…? Then if she liked women, why marry Albus?"

"I never saw her with another woman again, Hermione." Filius' tone having changed from whimsical to clad iron, "Perhaps she was, but if so, she was exceedingly discreet about it before she became engaged with Albus. Now, take me back to New Year's Eve."

As fast as her soul rose in elation, was as quickly as it plummeted and crashed at the direction of his question. Her pulse instantly sped up again. She wasn't ready for this. She had only just begun to admit how she felt to herself; she was in no way ready to speak of her feelings or whatever it was that she felt for Minerva. "Filius, this…what you are asking is…I've only just begun to admit to myself that I…" she found it hard for her mouth to form the words, as she stumbled onward, "I…ah…care for her."

"I am sure this in intolerable, but do try to bare with me."

"I am trying." Hermione breathed in a gush and she shifted the nature of the conversation hoping for another moment's reprieve, "What do you think of to calm your mind while dueling?"

Golden eyes sparkled, "Is that one of your questions?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped. "Uh – no."

"When we arrived at the Manor on New Year's eve?" Filius redirected and he watched as her fingers clenched along the hemline of the robe as she slowly began to recount the events.

Hermione stated how she hadn't been thinking about anything other than stopping Harkiss, "and when we arrived, the dust, the vapid area where the corridor had once stood with Samantha standing in the middle, I couldn't breathe. To see the devastation – the large columns of stone lying atop one another, Samantha pointing downward as she cried out for Nana. And I just couldn't believe it, it was surreal – until my eyes saw a piece of her robe." She forced the words from her throat, "I don't think I left that corridor mentally the rest of the night."

"And a few evenings after, while helping to repair the corridor?"

"I…" she rocked forward grabbing the bottle, "you are going to hell, Filius." Hermione poured a partial glass and then tipped the bottle to fill his too. "Really and truly going straight to hell."

Filius summoned his glass back into his hand, ignoring her commentary, "Were you thinking of Minerva?"

"Of course I was." Hermione set the bottle down with a hint more force than necessary, "I had just given her a damn pepper up potion."

Of all the responses he had expected, that was not in the realm of probabilities. "What?" he asked, thankful he hadn't taken a sip or it would have been spewed everywhere.

"You saw her, she...was not well." Her voice rising an octave at the memory of how poor Minerva had been just under a month ago, "And each time the corridor failed, she'd feel it; and it was – killing her. So I woke her to ask why it wasn't working."

"The seams." Filius surmised.

"I had thought. But when the corridor fell apart the last time, I realized that Kane had transfigured the dust into mortar; but it hadn't congealed and set. And Helena said she wouldn't survive if the corridor didn't hold, and all I could think about was…that I'm not ready to lose her. My children wouldn't get to see her again, and I…" she wiped the tears away with her left hand, "I would never hear her or see her or have the opportunity to tell her that I cared for her."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory motioned for George to step through the doorway, "This way."

George nodded, "Thank you. I just, need some air." George ran a hand through his damp hair.

"Ya did well." Rory commented as he closed the door to the dance hall.

"What did Albert do before? He's a hell of a duelist."

"He worked for the Ministry, retired before Voldemort's rise the second time. Used to train Aurors, his wife was a Professor at Hogwarts."

"What did she teach? Defense?"

"Muggle studies."

Rory opened another door, George expected it to lead outside and paused at stepping into a small alcove. "What…?"

"Are ya sure ya need air, luv?" Rory closed the door, a lamp igniting to highlight how small the room they were in was as his hands dropped down to George's hips which he pulled into his own.

"We're in a closet…"

"Aye," Rory breathed against already warm flesh, "an overflow one that nah one knows but Minerva and she's a wee bit busy." His hips already moving in a slow rhythm that George was already meeting, "Ya feel how much I want ya?"

George could feel the hard length pressing into him, and his body was meeting the heady pace Rory was already setting, "…yes."

"You were beautiful the way you moved. I couldna take my eyes off ya."

"Rory…" George moaned, his body already aching to be touched.

"Hmmm…" Rory murmured as he began unfastening George's pants.

"I don't want to miss…" the words paused in his throat as sure, dexterous fingers touched him, "…the duels."

"We'll be…" Rory shifted pushing George's pants just a bit farther down, and reached beneath his own kilt to take his own flesh, "quick…" he murmured, before muttering a spell and guiding his length into heated flesh.

"ohh…" George moaned as his groin pulsed and hips bucked backwards desperately trying to increase the contact… "Rory…you're…so…" words failed him as a strong arm wrapped around his chest and warm fingers covered his heated flesh. "ohhh…"

"I've been…" Rory pushed himself farther in, "wanting to do this to ya all mornin'…"

"God…" George pushed back, "don't stop."

"I dunna plan ta." Rory ground out as he pinched hardened nipples.

"Ohhh…Rory, I…'m so close and you've only…oh….god…"

"Aye…" Rory met George's frantic movements, "love. That's it…take me…"

"Ro…ry."

"Take me…" Rory breathed as he pulled George farther back, "all the way in, love."

"You are so…deep…" George rocked forward as his back arched and his head fell back onto Rory's shoulder, "ohh…" he could feel tears running down his face as his body strained for something, and he wasn't sure what, but then he felt Rory push even farther into him and all he could do was moan from his soul as his length tightened and the first spasm of an orgasm began to travel up his flesh.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius vaguely felt his glass touching his lips, and a small part of him thought of stopping – he did after all have a duel to partake in. His logical mind whirled through the scenarios of the upcoming event. It would still be another handful of minutes away, and against Neville. Not that Neville wasn't gifted; he most certainly was. However, he had chosen a path like his wife – and fauna while dangerous could be quelled with a handful of spells; spells Pomona had taught him decades ago. He'd be able to counter Neville's offense with ease as he had picked up a few things from Pomona after all these years.

And in truth, he wasn't facing Rory, Harold, or Minerva…

Minerva.

The woman who was one of his dearest friends, who had saved his life a half dozen times, had introduced him to his wife, who had become a rock in the wizarding world, who had lived through so much and still found the strength to get up in the morning, had lost two of her children, a grandchild, and survived Albus' death despite their bond – but now at the twilight of her life as death grabs hold with two hands to claim its prize that it was forced to leave behind while taking her husband; love seemed to have blossomed.

And it couldn't.

He had learned the startling truth three weeks ago, that she was still bound to him – and he to her. And while he hadn't spoken to Minerva about it, he didn't need to. He had had thousands of conversations with her, and a fair number with Albus' portrait to draw references from and know that they were still indeed bound. Had been. Would be.

And that was ultimately what was killing her.

Once he understood the final dynamic, it had unfortunately – all made sense. Not easy to absorb emotionally, but logically well, like most things that was another story.

But that left a very real, very unique circumstance which he had read enough on the subject following Albus' death to know there had never been an instance of a bound person falling in love with another.

There was no more thought as he gulped down the amber liquid in a long swig.

"Filius?" Hermione questioned, having grown more concerned as the seconds of silence had passed into minutes.

"No, she has not dated anyone since Albus passed." He finally answered, "I don't think she has ever…" Filius carefully structured the statement around the truth, "fully gotten over his death."

"And the second?"

Filius twirled the empty tumbler between his stout fingers, eyes catching the reflections feeling like the damning glass as he cleared his throat; he was caught. He had seen very personal thoughts and felt the overwhelming feelings when he had momentarily entered Minerva's mind at her bequest to reconstruct the hallway three weeks ago – a burgeoning love for the younger woman opposite and the guilt that paralleled the love. However, he also knew she was bound; that she was dying and that as much as he _wanted_ to believe that anything could happen – logically, he knew that in this instance, time had run its course and Hermione wouldn't have enough of it. "Yes, I do believe," his voice caught as he lifted his eyes back to hers, "she could love you."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva wiped her brow and nodded to Helena as Arthur assisted Iris from the floor; his name automatically advancing – one quarterfinal set, Harold versus Arthur. Minerva heard Helena speaking with Michael about Iris's treatment; and she called Bonnie.

"Yes, Minerva?" Bonnie almost instantly appeared.

"Can you and Elgin locate Filius and Hermione and ask them if they will be here with ten to fifteen minutes? I don't believe two of the matches will take long, and also remind Filius that Pomona is dueling next."

"At once." Bonnie vanished and Minerva turned back around, trying to tamp down the worry as to what was keeping both Filius and Hermione. _Surely if it was serious, he'd have informed me._ But a wave of doubt crashed through her, because if it was serious – there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it; her reserves barely able to hold for the simplest of spells.

"Everything alright?" Helena inquired after calling for Harry and Pomona.

"Quite."

A blond brow arched but she said nothing as the contestants stepped forward, Pomona meeting Minerva's gaze with a quizzical one of her own – the question clear.

_Where was Filius?_

And Pomona easily read her friend's reply – she didn't know.

"Now – wands at the ready."

Minerva heard the doors open, as did Pomona and three dozen sets of eyes turned to see Rory re-enter. Alone. _George must still be cooling off from his duel, _she thought as he grabbed a drink from the table before stopping by Harold.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Bonnie _wanted_ to wait to interrupt, having only heard Filius' last statement; wishing she knew the context in its entirety. But she also knew that they were both due back, and from the partially drunk bottle – the conversation was as she feared, regarding Minerva; and she'd have to resign herself to not knowing as she had a job to do. "Filius, Hermione…" she appeared before them, "they have begun the second round. Harold and Arthur have both won their duels," her eyes turned to golden ones, "Pomona's duel against Harry is about to begin, and I don't believe Rory nor Kane's will take much more time – but both of their duels follow Pomona and Harry's."

"We'll be along before either of us have to forfeit." Filius replied.

Bonnie nodded, eyes catching the color of the worn label. _Oh dear,_ she thought to herself wondering just _how_ much they had ingested. "At best, you have ten to fifteen minutes." And with that, Bonnie left, and reappeared by her seat next to Elgin as Harry and Pomona bowed.

"Everything well?" Elgin said as he pulled out a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"Seemingly." Bonnie reached into the bowl as Harry deflected a hex, "Though it'll be interesting to watch Filius and Neville's duel along with Madame Tessa and Hermione."

"Ohh," Elgin turned as Pomona's spell reverted Harry's into a large whomping willow, "how so?"

"They've had at least a glass, if not two, of the Mistress' private label."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Filius waited a full heartbeat to make sure they were alone before he continued, "Your final two questions."

"Ahh, I thought you were going."

"Do trust that I have your best interests at heart."

"The jury is going to be out on that for some time, Filius." Hermione dryly replied as she pondered _what_ else to ask. "What did she do after the war with Grindlewald?"

"For the first month or two, I believe she remained on as an Auror but afterwards she left to find what many of us sought." He smiled softly at the younger woman, "Peace, Hermione. The things done and lived through were not easy to put behind those who partook in the war. Within a few years, there were a lot of suicides as people tried to pick back the pieces; tremendous turnover at the Ministries here and abroad. We lost touch for a number of years, until shortly before 1950. She said she had continued working for the Ministry, I believe it was the Department of Mystery because she wasn't on the official roles; and from her sparse comments, I wouldn't doubt if she was on an Unspeakable team because she'd vanish for long stints at a time. After she and Albus married, she left the Ministry and published two books and joined Hogwarts in 1956."

"What's killing her?" Hermione asked without pause as she watched his face for any sign of emotion.

Unfortunately, none found its way to his features.

"I can't answer that, Hermione." Filius solemnly answered, "but you have been around Minerva enough to know the answer yourself because while she obfuscates she won't lie outright; especially if she trusts the person. And she does you."

"Is there any hope of saving her?"

"She should have died thirteen years ago and lived; and I don't think death will permit her to evade it once more." Filius plunged ahead, "Know that she'll be dead by the summer's solstice and probably before the school year's end; she isn't well but is putting up a brave front."

"Why tell me this?"

"Because," Filius patted her knee, "I can't tell you the other and you deserve to know." He cleared his throat, "Now, can you tell me about the evening your children and parents were attacked; before Minerva arrived?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Pomona flicked her wand, forcing the vine to grow into the oncoming hex; and propel it onward.

"Pomona's getting tired." Helena remarked as Harry dodged out of the way of the vine that sprouted to grab him.

"So is Harry." Minerva stated, enjoying watching Harry try to put obvious theoretical knowledge into practical application as she was certain he had no experience from his movements prior to today. And it was beginning to wear him out, physically and Pomona was challenging him magically.

A vine grabbed his leg and instantly lifted him, making him airborne; and he shot the vine and another and another as they continued to sprout and hold him aloft.

"He's done…"

"No," Minerva smiled at his dangling figure as Pomona paused in her concentration to stun him, and his previous futile attempts at dislodging the vine from its grip on his leg worked; and the stunning spell Pomona cast went errant as he plunged to the floor, not bothering to cast a cushioning charm but rather his own paralyzing spell at Sprout.

A disconcerting thud sounded from the room as Pomona became motionless, and Minerva turned to Helena. "See."

"He gets that foolishness from _you_." Helena hissed and marched forward, motioning to Michael to join her as the board changed and Harry advanced.

_I know_, Minerva thought with a hint of pride as she lifted the charm on Pomona.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"And lastly," Filius steeled his resolve, "can you tell me how you felt the first time you kissed Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione's brow instantly furloughed, "Ahh, Filius – what does that have to do with anything? That was…years ago. Right at the end of the battle at Hogwarts and…how does this involve Minerva?"

"Then perhaps the moment when you first made love?"

Hermione spluttered, "I ahhh we don't know each other well enough, even…no…"

"Or when you first laid eyes on your daughter? Your son? It's not the particular event, Hermione. But the illogical feeling that is called love and the menagerie of feelings that one feels towards another when they love someone. That's what you need to focus on, not the logic. It's evident and has been for the last several weeks that you know how to move and understand the art of body movement; and while you still need to practice, at this point, you are over-thinking. You need to let your feelings exist _with_ your magic, as they are meant to. The greatest witches and wizards use their feelings while casting to enhance their magic; and at the basis of all feeling is love."

"And the whole business with Minerva?"

"The feelings of protection, desire not to see her in pain, these are aspects of love - whether you can admit it or not, Hermione. As I said, I hadn't believed it to be related to her; but I think it important for you to accept that your feelings affect your magic. When you focus on heartache, distress, loss, your magic becomes marginally weaker and more scattered than when you focus on love, joy, happy memories. Find that place when you duel," he stood, "and you won't have to work so hard to cast your spells. They'll flow more naturally. And remember, Hogwarts business." He started walking out, noting that the room was slightly off kilter as he paused by the doorway to both balance himself and turn back, "And it's the moment Pomona said yes, she would marry me."

Hermione turned as he finished, a smile touching her lips. "Thank you Filius."

Golden eyes flickered to hers as a shadow fell across his features, "Don't thank me, Hermione. I just hope one day you can forgive me." Filius didn't wait for a reply as he made his way down the steps – feeling far more tipsy than he should for two drinks which didn't bode well. He gripped the banister tighter, _it didn't bode well at all_.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Pomona watched Angelina tried to push back Kane's spell, as a welcome hand brushed hers. "Is everything well?"

Filius wiped his brow, the exertion from traversing the steps alone had almost been enough to just call the next duel, "Fine, fine." He replied trying to keep the room in focus.

Pomona glanced at her husband, the initial pass causing her to do a double take, and cast a silencing spell as she kneeled down, "Filius, are you alright?" A note of worry lacing her cadence at seeing the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"I'm fine. Well, not really, but I am – well, it isn't about me but…" he paused as he realized that he had been rambling to his wife. "Honey, I'm not certain if what I've just done will make things easier or harder for her."

"Who? And have you been drinking?"

"Minerva." Filius's gaze shifted past his wife to the emerald clad woman standing next to the silver one with maroon piping.

"What have you done?"

Teary eyes returned to meet his loving wife's gentle brown gaze, "I asked when I shouldn't have. I thought she was in love, not with her; but then how was I suppose to know."

Pomona desperately tried to understand her husband's random thoughts, but there was no basis. "You aren't making any sense."

"No, I don't think I am nor will for some time." He said forlornly.

"Let me get you something to clear your head before you face Neville." She muttered while standing, "So by the time it works you'll be able to lose with a semblance of dignity. Though I'm sure I'll hear about that for the next decade."

Filius turned as she left, a frown on his lips. "Lose? Posh." He muttered as Angelina's features stiffened and she fell over. Another quarterfinal set – Kane versus Harry.

He stepped forward, blinking the world back into focus as Helena called his name and Neville's. Wiping his brow, he ambled forward as Pomona stepped around to where her Filius had been only a moment before to see him step onto the floor. "Ahh hell." She muttered, palming the draught.

Rory's brow quirked, "Problem?"

Pomona shook her head, "No, but there will be." She held up the small potion, "He's been drinking."

Grey eyes flew from the bottle to the floor, "Nah, Filius wouldn't – he prides himself on dueling…" Rory stopped at seeing the set of her jaw, "shit." He muttered as his gaze flew back to the Deputy Headmaster who was drawing to a stop before Helena and Minerva. "If he loses because of this, he'll be hell for years."

"Ohh…" Pomona shook her head, "he'll lose." Rory's head instantly snapped back at the comment, and she sighed. "I told Neville a few things to make it a little more even – that even when he's completely sober, he'd have had a hard time to combat." She shrugged, "What? I don't want him getting complacent either…"

Rory chuckled. "Well, take a seat, dear – it'll be a duel to remember." He leaned over as she sat down, "After all, other than Minerva or Albus or the Flammels when was the last time he lost?"

"He hasn't since I've known him." Pomona whispered.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena winced as a hex knicked Filius' shoulder, "Filius is making it look a little too good."

"He's not making it anything," Minerva murmured as Neville deflected a spell, "he's struggling."

"Filius?"

"Mmmhhhmmm," Minerva replied as Filius wove a charm about his frame as a spell crashed into the protego charm pushing him backward a half dozen meters. "I wonder if Pomona gave Neville some advice."

"Would she?"

Minerva glanced to the other witches and wizards, noting that Pomona was sitting by Rory. "I asked her to," Minerva whispered.

"Oh dear heavens, what in Merlin's beard would possess you to do that?"

"Even with the advice, he should be able to take Neville." Minerva calmly replied as Filius' body was pushed back again.

"Obviously you were wrong." Helena retorted.

"Perhaps," Minerva admitted glancing up to see Hermione sitting next to Harry, "but I don't think so. I think something else is afoot."

"Like?" Doubt lined Helena's question.

"I don't know," Minerva said as Filius countered the hex simultaneously causing both wizards to be in a momentary deadlock, "but give it time and we'll sort it out."

"Filius doesn't look like he has much time." Helena remarked as the vortex of the spell came closer to him.

"Ahh, dear, don't let _that_," Minerva nodded to the string stretched out between them, "fool you. He's using the gridlock to catch his breath. Neville should have forced the spell errant and continued pushing."

"Are you sure?"

"I've done that…when I've had a little too much…"

Helena turned to Minerva, "What? You just figured something out, spill it."

Green eyes lifted upwards to Hermione, and then back to Filius as she took a deeper breath in – as the spell reeled. "Nothing," Minerva whispered, noticing how blue eyes remained on her for a few moments longer before returning to the duel, as she wondered what would be profound enough for Filius to drink – when he was dueling? He never drank and dueled at least, never enough to affect his wand work and spells; and obviously he had enough that he was struggling.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Harry flexed his hand as Michael removed the layers of ice, poultice and other sundry things he had laced down his arm, "Stay still," he murmured and Harry mutely nodded – too engrossed in the blazing duel going on.

"I see congratulations is in order." Hermione whispered sitting next to her best friend, and was rewarded by a large grin as Harry turned to her.

"Hey," He reached out with his right arm, the one he hadn't fallen on, to return her hug. "Thanks. Everything well at Hogwarts?"

Hermione couldn't hide the tears as she nodded, feigning a smile. "Yeah." She glanced to Michael and back to Harry with a slight shake and mouthed '_later_'.

His anxiety increased and the duel beyond instantly became forgotten, "Are you alright?"

Brown eyes darted to the diminutive man stringing a series of hexes together, and what she had relayed to him and she hadn't even told Harry…had only just started to admit it to herself…and to have learned that the person she was falling in love with – had perhaps six months to live. "I don't know, Harry." She honestly answered, as she glanced to Minerva for a moment before her gaze returned to worried olive eyes. "I just…" she laid her head on his shoulder, "hold me a minute, will ya?"

He kissed her head, nodding as he wrapped his good arm around her. "I got you."

She closed her eyes as the room moderately shifted, "That's good…" she murmured into his shoulder, curtailing her comment that she may have had too much to drink to quickly. She heard someone walk up behind them as a collective gasp was ushered and she shifted enough to peer out at the duel.

"I thought I said to stay still," Michael chastised.

"I didn't move my left arm." Harry retorted, not taking his eyes from the raging duel, "I think Neville might take him," he said tipping his head to speak quietly to Hermione.

"Maybe," she softly replied, mind not really on the array of colors lighting the room as jinxes, hexes, and curses were traded between Neville and Filius. Truth of the matter, she was surprised Filius had lasted as long as he had – because, in a way, she was certain he had been as shaken with her admission as she was with giving it.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius pushed against the spell inwardly cursing his wife as she must have spoken with him. _Of all days,_ he thought finally routing the spell errant, _she chooses today to make my life interesting._ He swirled and flicked his wand and he could see Neville already preparing to counter the obvious hex he had cast.

Not that that was bad, nor was the challenge, just why Merlin did it have to be today? He thought, eyes momentarily flicking to Minerva and then back to his opponent.

The distraction today…along with the alcohol was stifling him.

It wasn't logical. Two drinks shouldn't do this.

He paused in his conjuring spell as his muddled brain realized that it wasn't solely the drinks. Rather the _other_ information which was cycling through his consciousness. Vaguely he noticed Neville's spell spiral closer; but his mind was too occupied – how could it not be? He had only just discovered that Hermione loved Minerva.

Loved her.

So much so that it was obviously affecting her magic.

And she didn't have an inkling of what she was getting involved in; and it tore through his heart. Because she was falling in love with a woman who was bound; who couldn't fall in love with her – and yet somehow, he believed Minerva was.

A glint of light caused him to swing his wand and a large thud sounded to his right as the hex caused smoke and splinters to reign outward, he was fairly oblivious; mind still churning on the far more relevant issue – the duel could wait another moment.

Because if Minerva had feelings for Hermione and she was still bound to Albus; how was it even possible? Minerva's feelings, along with Albus' had been bound together – their lives – their souls; was it possible because she was still alive and he dead even though they remained bound?

He absently averted another jinx, mind beginning to clear – whether from the exertion or the adrenaline or the thought of a problem to solve; it only mattered his focus was returning. He wasn't as distracted by wayward thoughts of Hermione's heartfelt confession or what that would mean over the next few months for Minerva; well – in truth he was still distracted by them, but they were no longer his sole focus beyond remaining upright and avoiding the spells being hurled at him.

Feeling moderately better, he countered another series of hexes; causing an array of colors to spread outward – and with a wave of his hand; he charmed the sparkles of light and a flick of his wrist they brightened. And brightened…

Neville countered the brightness by transfiguring splinters into screen; filtering the light.

And Filius was reminded of a late afternoon duel with Minerva and a similar course of events occurring; however, her screen doubled and morphed into a netting that swooped in and entangled the flecks of light.

_After all, how do you teach – flare? _He mused, as he spun his wand. _That was something that Minerva had, in spades when she chose to unveil it. _The light pulsed brighter, _And Hermione too, but in a different way than Minerva. Neither one was flamboyant like Albus – but their styles were just as complimentary as was their intellect and a handful of passions. It was easy to see and understand why and how the two women would be attracted to the other. _

Filius easily sidestepped an off kilter jinx as sweat dripped off his brow as he swirled his wand; charming the dirt, the debris – levitating all of it and with a snap of his left hand and a flick of his right it meshed together and he engorged it. Making a piece of dust the size of snitches and flecks of dirt grow into a mix between bludgers and quaffles; the next heartbeat they were reigning downward and turning cherry red as he superheated them to enable them to burn through the screen.

With mild amusement, he watched as Neville jerked one out of the way and another before casting a protego charm to deflect the third one. However, as it crashed into the charm, it morphed into goo and oozed down, growing three times as large. As did each additional one that Neville's magic touched.

Within seconds Neville was standing in shin deep sludge, countering Filius' jinx and delivering another one while trying to banish the goo about his legs which only seemed to relish each spell Neville cast upon it – causing it to rise another four inches and surpass the height of his knees.

_The question he now had to face was what he was going to do about Hermione's growing love and Minerva's morphing affection – _he thought as he pushed his hand and wand down; causing the whole of the sludge to levitate and Neville to begin to lose his balance. He spared a glance to his wife whose face was morphing into a smile as she gazed at him, and he easily finished the series of spell he had been in the middle of; his heart becoming immeasurably lighter.

He stopped and started the charm a half dozen times, causing Neville and the goo to rise and fall repeatedly until he pushed the charm upwards and simultaneously summoned Neville's wand which happily glided to him while he let the wizard down while banishing the ever growing substance and then catching Neville's wand. A wild burst of applause rung outward as he brushed a hand over his forehead, not at all surprised by the volume of sweet and wet hair he found – because his robes were saturated too.

He gave a mini-bow before ambling to a stop in front of Helena and Minerva, "Ladies."

"I thought he had you." Helena stated.

"He almost did." Filius replied, eyes twinkling. "Seems that Pomona gave him a bit of advice."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was that last charm you used?"

Filius glanced to Minerva and back to Helena, "A levitation and summoning charm."

"But to negate and restart a levitation charm with such precision, is unheard of."

"So is casting a diagnostic spell without one's wand." Filius countered.

"Fair enough," Helena acquiesced before dropping her voice an octave, "who do you think will win the next match?"

Filius easily responded "Hermione," causing the Headmistress and Deputy to momentarily hold the others gaze before Filius continued on, "I'd venture that she will even make it past Rory."

"You sound like Minerva." Helena remarked before clearing her throat and her voice boasting outwards, "Tessa and Hermione."

"Is everything well at Hogwarts?" Minerva questioned.

"Quite." Filius fought off the urge to levitate himself closer and ask the thousand questions coursing through him, however, it was not the time nor the place. "Though I hope you don't mind if I ask one of the elves to procure a set of clean robes from Hogwarts."

"By all means," she said as Tessa and Hermione stepped onto the floor and Filius was surprised that Minerva kept her focus on him and not shift for a heartbeat – causing a wave of doubt to pulse through him. _Maybe I am wrong in how she feels regarding Hermione, perhaps it is nothing but friendship that she feels for her._ "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," he genuinely replied before heading to the sidelines as Helena asked for the two witches to pull their wands out and he met his wife in a warm embrace, "Lose…huh?"

Her rich laughter echoed through the hall at her husband's self confidence and rarely seen ego as she returned his hug and whispered a response, "You almost did."

"True," he said leaning back, "but then I thought of you."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

No sooner had Helena stepped back beside her mother, and she let a staccato of spells loose from her wand. She was not in the mood, nor did she have the patience to endure a long-winded duel; and the last thing she wanted was this upstart of a witch to challenge her again.

As the first percussion of spells resonated off of her series of protego charms, she sent another flurry of hexes upon Hermione.

She was not going to take any chances, not today. She was certain the woman before her was a fast study, probably would be able to master the notion of body movement within the year; but she also was not about to let her win.

She was the daughter of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Minerva Katherine McGonagall; and the woman before her knew it. And she'd be damned if she'd let her win.

She'd prove to her mother once and for all that the woman stumbling backwards was not her equal.

Because, while Hermione was good – she was better.

Even if her mother chose Hermione over her to help avenge her sister's death.

And she couldn't stop the coy grin from lifting the corner of her lip as Hermione's shoulder struck the wall. The woman was out of room to hide, and Tessa pushed on.

To think that her mother put so much faith in a woman who would be unconscious in less than a minute. And as Hermione diverted the next series of spells, she felt her frustration mount regarding the prestigious Hermione Granger.

The woman whose sole fame was derived from her association with Potter, and now she had taken the opportunity away from her to establish a relationship with her mother; and from her obvious lack of magical aptitude it was no wonder why her mother was dying faster. It was probably because of Hermione that her mother would be dead within six months.

She could feel her frustration mounting from both her internal musing and the way Hermione seemed to remain in the duel which was evident as she had to nullify three oncoming spells.

She glanced to her husband, her gaze sweeping over her uncles and past her aunt and mother, and she reared her wand back; wanting to end this façade.

"Enough games…" she muttered and conjured a flock of silver birds the size of clovers blanketing the area behind her before they collectively dove towards Hermione.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Rory and Harold both straightened their backs as the birds appeared out of thin air and sliced the air as they dove downwards. "Dear Merlin, she'll be in St. Mungos for a week." Rory whispered, feeling Harold's grip on his arm.

"Let's hope not," Harold replied praying that his wife's dearest friend's faith hadn't been misplaced. Because if Hermione was severely hurt today, she'd be unable to assist Minerva tomorrow.

Rory jerked his gaze from the screeching birds, gray eyes boring into blue ones. "They've found Philip, haven't they?"

Harold didn't have to answer, Rory could see the truth buried beneath icy eyes.

"That's why she had the family over last night." Gray eyes snapped to his sister, and then to the duel as they sliced through the protego charm. He, along with Harold and the rest of the spectators could only watch as Hermione was struck by first one then a second and third bird.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva heard Helena gasp as her eyes narrowed, "Minerva…?"

"Let it be," Minerva whispered, praying she was making the correct decision. "It isn't fatal."

"She'll be in St. Mungos…"

"I am aware." Minerva interjected, not wanting to hear how severely Hermione would be injured by her daughter's spell. She knew. It was one that Albus had cast upon Rory when they had gone full out about thirty years ago; it had landed him in the hospital for close to a week.

And with the injuries Hermione was going to sustain, she'd be unable to assist her tomorrow.

However, as dreadful as that notion was, and the permanent repercussions that would have on her life; she found herself more concerned with Hermione's welfare and that she'd not be able to make the dinner and the show this evening.

She felt her jaw clench as Helena's hand gripped her arm as the first onslaught of metallic birds pierced Hermione's protego charm. "Dear Merlin…"

And Minerva's heart beat sped up as the spell fully took effect, the birds turning cherry red as they blew apart and congealed onto her robes – burning the fabric and Minerva inwardly steeled herself in preparation to hear Hermione scream out in pain.

But she didn't.

Instead, she did what she always did – she surprised her.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione felt a whirl of panic as the miniature metallic birds came spiraling at her, reminding her of what she had done to Ron years prior, however, from their trajectory and fabrication she knew they were anything but friendly.

With ease, she conjured a protego charm hoping to forestall the angry birds; but they sliced through the charm as if she had crafted it from butter and her mind went into overdrive.

_What charm – spell would enable an object to penetrate a protego charm?_

One sliced her arm, another her shoulder, another her waist as a fourth one turned cherry red.

_Ahh, hell no,_ she thought already moving her wand to counter the effect but it was too late. One of the birds had already exploded, and she could smell the burning fabric and feel the heat scorching her skin.

As Tessa's caustic remarks from three weeks ago reverberated in her mind…

"_And there's a fucking witch half my age and talent who is supposed to be protecting her!"_

_"You saw her duel – and with mother's magic plummeting, it's only a matter of time until she gets killed!"_

_ "So, what – I can relish that she'll be dead in half the time!"_

_ "What? Glue the pieces when mother's magic blows her own body apart?"_

Immediately followed by Minerva's soft voice and twinkling green eyes…

"_We will discuss it over dinner…"_

Her heart sped up as her jaw flexed, fingers tightening as knuckles became whiter and a whirlwind of emotion swelled through strengthening her resolve as brown eyes narrowed at Tessa.

The daughter who had what could be described at best as a tenuous relationship with her mother.

The daughter who felt slighted at her for Minerva choosing to train her, and not Tessa.

The daughter of the woman she was falling in love with.

And as much as she wanted to retaliate in anger, the burgeoning love she felt for Minerva overrode her rage.

Because, she wasn't interested in coming between Minerva and her daughter; rather she'd much prefer to help bridge the gap separating them.

Especially as Minerva was…dying.

Tears instantly burned at the back of her eyes, not from the physical pain but the emotional one as a spell left her wand.

The spell burst forward, glowing and entrapping at first one, then the next, and another bird until the spell solidified into a tiger that lunged at the small metal creatures. The birds still flying at Hermione, she redirected to the floor causing them to burst into flames and at once she harnessed the fire and shot it towards Tessa.

The after effects of the alcohol having dissipated from the adrenaline and emotional upheaval as she pushed on; determined to make her dinner with Minerva as her wand flourished and a series of spells followed the fire bolt.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry inwardly winced as Tessa retaliated, and a spell knicked Hermione's left arm drawing another wound.

_ She was going to be as bad off as he if she made it past this round_, he thought as Hermione twirled and dropped to one knee to cast a protego charm causing her body to slide backwards a half meter.

He couldn't help but smile as she flung another series of hexes back at Tessa while standing upright; and he couldn't be prouder of _her_ as she was a force to be reckoned with.

And he was enjoying watching her put Tessa to task.

The elder witch's frustration was beginning to show as her lips pinched and Harry recognized the familial trait of her mother; but unlike Minerva, she didn't have the same stoicism or verve.

But Hermione did.

And that in conjunction with her knowledge from Minerva's trainings, he was certain she'd be the one to advance.

As she ducked and twisted, he reiterated the notion quietly to himself, because she just had too.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tessa watched as Hermione wove the alchemy charm and transfigured it into air, causing a rush of air and little else. And she couldn't help but feel her admiration for the younger witch marginally increase yet again.

There was no denying it, as much as she loathed to admit it, Hermione was good.

Well, better than good, if she were truly honest with herself. As there were less than three dozen wizards and witches worldwide that could have countered the metamorphic metallic birds.

She hadn't believed Hermione to have been one of them.

Apparently, she was mistaken.

Not that she relished the notion. Nor that the young upstart was seeming her equal.

Idly she banished the oncoming hex, and the next; as she pulled the rivets from wall and molded them into spearheads.

While this mundane spell wouldn't tax Hermione, it would enable her to set up what she hoped to be the final spell necessary to end the duel as it should have minutes prior. It was time to put this woman's dazzling performance to rest for the day.

Hermione morphed the charm and sent one back with equal fervor; and she could see the transfiguration spell lacing the metal.

After all these years in alchemy, it was second nature; and foolish by Hermione to counter her spell with something so basic. She wove her wand, intending to liquify the oncoming spell's base metal; but as the spells touched – light refracted everywhere as the solitary spell morphed into three dozen others less than two meters away.

Tessa felt her heart rate reach a crescendo as her pulse thudded in her ears while she tried to raise her wand in defense.

She tipped her shoulder back to miss the first spell, as a protego charm sprouted from the end of her wand colliding with a half dozen.

But it was folly.

As her leg and left side of her chest were peppered by the minute spells; causing her body to shimmer and in the next instant the world stopped.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Kane smiled at the deft spell work just done by Hermione Granger. "Well done!" he cheered, breaking the momentary silence as his clap sounded thunderous in the dance hall.

Instantly, the rest of the spectators followed suite, but his eyes were trained on the woman who had always ment so much to him.

Minerva McGonagall.

He had spent years as her apprentice, and it had taken him most of that time to see and understand the subtleties that lined her world.

She always seemed to remain in control, even when she had lost her son and granddaughter. Even now as her daughter stood in the middle of dance hall transfigured into a bronze statue; and she clapping in conjunction with everyone else – her expression remained stoic.

But he knew it was all a lie.

He had born witness one evening to the utter depth of emotion that Minerva kept well and truly hidden from the world.

It had both scared and endured her to him that night.

He had taken the following week off to recollect and balance his own thoughts after having completed a joint legimency spell that was necessary for him to partake in the fourth level mastery and to find a second animagus.

Their relationship had changed that night, as he was sure most Master – Mentor relationships do; but it was at that point he had become a part of _her_ family. Not the McDore family, but _hers_.

And while he and Esmerele were not fated to the other; he still felt an overwhelming desire to protect _her_. Even if what Helena had said was true and that she was dying, he couldn't help but want to prevent it or find an alternative solution.

He was certain that her fate was entwined with Albus and her bond; as it was unprecedented that someone who was bound could in fact live – which brought about how she had survived almost fourteen years ago? A question she had never answered, even to this day.

He watched as Hermione paused in front of Minerva and Helena, momentarily blocking his view; but he found his gaze following the victor from the duel as he thought back to _their_ conversations.

The peculiar exchanges and odd desire to also protect Minerva; her desire to protect Minerva was almost as reckless as his own. And he couldn't help but wonder what the nature of her friendship was with Minerva.

Because, it was obvious they were not lovers. He could ascertain that their scents were too distinct and not blurred.

Leaving him unusually curious as Harry greeted her with a ginger hug.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Filius could feel Pomona's eyes on his as he walked back to the center, the fifteen minute break between rounds seemingly having flown by. As he was still physically exhausted from the last duel, had a nip of a headache looming behind his right temple, and he still couldn't really focus. Not so much from the alcohol as the potion Pomona had given him after his duel had cleared any remnants of the whisky from his system; rather the emotional upheaval his conversation with Hermione had left him in. He couldn't stop from the thousand possible implications and the one overriding one – what was he going to do to protect Minerva and keep Hermione from getting any more broken hearted than he knew she already would be.

Absently, he heard Helena call for their wands at the ready as he faced his opponent, George Weasley.

On some level, he knew the match would be difficult. As George possessed a trait that none of the remaining Weasley's did but was undoubtedly genetic from Molly's side – creativity. He not only was a scrappy duelist, but an exceedingly creative one.

_ Perhaps that is what Rory sees in him,_ the stray overriding thought brought unexpected focus as George's hovering charm flew towards him.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Rory watched as Filius barely parried the hovering charm, and he couldn't help but be concerned. He knew Pomona had already administered an antidote to Filius following his last duel to counter any of the effects from the alcohol; but it appeared that his focus still wasn't on the duel.

And that didn't bode well.

He didn't know what Filius and Hermione had gone to Hogwarts for, but it had obviously left Filius troubled. As he seemed reticent, bordering on non-engagement, causing Rory to grow more concerned with each deflected or barely countered spell.

Grey eyes lifted to his sister and he could see the worry beginning to line her countenance. It was subtle, barely perceptible; but then again how many people had known her for as long as he?

A bright flash redirected his gaze back to the duel, and his concern eased as Filius finally shot back a series of spells. While it was nowhere near the volume that were being traded at the end of Tessa and Hermione's duel; it was a start.

He cast a glance to his next opponent, and the woman who had felled his niece, Hermione Granger.

She was still being treated by Michael, as was Harry.

And while Harry was _interesting,_ it was the woman who interested him more. She was laying her head on his right shoulder, both watching the duel and Rory drew his own gaze back to the duel. His thoughts, though, staying with the woman.

He had known she was good, otherwise his sister wouldn't have consented to train her. However, she wasn't _just _good. She had the underlying potential to be great as was demonstrated by her duel with Tessa. Not only had she countered the multi-phasic metal birds, but she had crafted a spell using Tessa's weakness. Knowing that Tessa worked with alchemy, she had imbedded a charm to react to Tessa's spell; causing the transfiguration spell to replicate.

It had been downright ingenious.

But it had been after the duel, the reaction that had surprised him the most, or rather, the _lack _of reaction by Minerva.

She had congratulated Hermione and spoken to her for a minute to ensure she'd be able to continue, and then he had watched as she had woven her way to speak with her daughter. It had been a brief, albeit, quiet exchange before she slipped from the room until only moments before George and Filius' duel.

He was certain she had gone to sit for a few moments, or perchance take another potion to assist in getting through the next handful of duels. However, he had been certain that he'd have seen _something_ more after how close Hermione had come to being hospitalized for a week.

Because, he _knew_ she cared.

His lip quirked upward as he watched his own lover conjure an impressive stonewall and dense fog in a heartbeat.

And that was undoubtedly the problem.

She did care.

And she knew she couldn't. So did he.

But she wouldn't permit it to show. Especially in front of acquaintances and even more importantly – her children.

Because while she did care, even though she couldn't, it did not mean that she'd let anything come of it; even if a small part of him wished she would.

However, he understood why she wouldn't. A pledge to her husband to remain faithful. A pledge he had given to Derrick and despite Derrick's death – he had kept that pledge for a long time. And while Albus had long since passed the veil, his essence had not – nor had their bond dissolved contrary to everyone's belief. She could feel him and he her; and as she so aptly put it last month – could he make love to George if he could still feel Derrick and Derrick he?

And as much as he wanted to answer her yes, he couldn't.

But that didn't mean she didn't love Hermione.

It just meant…that the young witch would never know. Nor could she.

And as much as he wished it could be different for his sister and the woman she was falling in love with, he also knew that it couldn't.

Hence her reaction, or rather lack of one.

But dear Merlin – how he wished things _could_ be different.

Rory watched as Filius both enlarged and made the fog denser, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for George. Filius did so love playing with the weather.

And despite his meandering thoughts regarding his sister and the woman a half dozen meters to his left; and the Shakespearean events surrounding them, he'd have to ponder them later.

From the way George was moving his arm, his lover was about to get beat – good.

He watched with morbid fascination and eternal thankfulness at both Filius' skill and proficiency. Because the man had a way to take the most simplistic of charms and make them impossible to counter.

Filius must have weighted the fog, making it more like trying to move through sand or molasses. And in the next blink the entire room became clear, save for one area surrounding George who was now unmoving; and Rory was standing already clapping along with Wendell, Harold, Pomona and several others.

Filius had charmed the weighted fog with a sticking charm too. Rory glanced to his lover's still form, while clapping making a mental note to explain to George later not under any circumstances to bring weather into a duel with the diminutive man.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched Arthur and Harold bowed, a glint of mischief in both their eyes and while she sincerely hoped Arthur could pull off an upset, the odds were against him.

However, she still hoped much to Helena's chagrin.

_As he had always been near to her heart,_ she thought as both wizards sent a half-hearted spell toward the other.

And unlike the last duel with bouts of intermittent flurries of spells being traded, the pace for this one was more akin to the blazing one between Tessa and Hermione almost instantly.

There was no testing by one wizard or the other. There were no attempts at trying to find a perceived weakness. Just an initial respective parrying shot to ensure both were ready, and then spells were being countered and cast in equal fervor.

A numbing jinx, paralyzing hex, spun into conjuring a flurry of hornets that were transfigured into bludgers that were crafted into a metallic statue that was blown apart after diving in front of another curse.

"Wow." Helena muttered as Harold and Arthur continued on, the spell work becoming more elaborate. "I haven't seen Harold duel like this in years."

Minerva merely smiled, eyes remaining fixed upon the duel lest she cast her eyes to where she wanted to. As Hermione was still being treated by Michael for the handful of burns and lacerations from the duel with her daughter. A duel that had nearly caused her to lose her composure on more than one occasion; for both Tessa and Hermione's sake. As Tessa had utilized a spell that bordered on uncouth as she seemed to have purposefully tried to incapacitate her. Hermione had managed to successfully stop the spell, and she had thought that the younger woman would retaliate in anger because of the nature of the spell utilized upon her; she was reminded of why she was attracted to Hermione. She had bested Tessa not in anger, but with skill, tact and a sense of irony.

Her eyes caught Harold pulling a small vial from his cloak, and he remembered his earlier question to both she and Helena regarding using what was on the person. While he hadn't used it then, it was apparent he was going to now. And Minerva felt Helena's back stiffen in conjunction with her own as he propelled the small dram size bottle outward, and a suspension spell fluttering from the tip of his wand and Minerva was surprised to see Arthur cast the same spell outward.

Emerald eyes locked on to the bottle, her keen vision straining against the light and movement to see what it contained; and upon realizing it was a grain of sand – it was too late.

The spells had intersected with the bottle and grain of sand, and despite having already lifted up her wand to deflect the shockwaves – she along with the rest of the bystanders were frozen in time.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Harold shook his head at Arthur's intuitiveness. "I see you've been reading."

"A bit." Arthur replied not willing to take his eyes off of the man before him, knowing that the room and all of its occupants were momentarily frozen as Harold had literally pulled them out of moving time for a handful of minutes. It was one of the latest breakthroughs that his department had uncovered, and was still in the trial phases. Harold being one of only three persons willing to attempt it for fear what the outcome would be. Because being stuck in a moment of time while everyone continued on with their life was not an outcome most were willing to wager their life against. "Dare I ask how long we'll be here?"

"At most, minutes."

Arthur tipped his head and shrugged, "Then let us not dally." He countered with a flurry of spells.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rory still marveled at the wreckage Harold and Arthur had reigned upon the ballroom, considering it seemed to go from a gilded hall to burnt ash in a blink of an eye and Arthur having been paralyzed.

It also seemed that for it to have been that expedient, Harold was exceedingly tired. Too tired.

He'd have to talk to him to make sure Harold was taking care of himself. He hadn't thought Harold was terribly out of shape, perhaps he weighed a few kilos to many; but definitely not enough to be the cause of the wet, matted hair, flushed sweaty face, and damp robes.

As he neared the center, he turned to the woman he was facing; and noticed that her robes still bore the half dozen burn marks from her previous duel. Marks that he was assured had wounds beneath, and he filed that away as useful information – that she'd have more problems going to her left than usual.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena drew back up to Minerva, "Care to wager?"

"Harold is alright?" Minerva asked before stepping forward to start the duel between Rory and Hermione.

Helena nodded and cocked her brow, waiting.

"If you care to wager on Rory, then by all means."

"Consider it done." Helena quietly replied so as not to be overheard by the two contestants. She watched as Minerva began the duel, and returned less than three minutes later. "Seems you were accurate," Helena stated as Rory blocked a jinx.

"Ohh?"

"They were suspended in time for the better part of ten minutes." Helena watched Minerva's face morph into concern.

"Are you alright?"

"It's difficult to explain." Helena honestly answered as the duel behind them intensified, knowing that Minerva would understand the complexity of what she had just stated. Not only had Harold stopped time, but they were bound and it had to have affected her too. And did.

Green eyes narrowed, "Helena?"

Blue eyes met hers, and then moved back to the heady exchange of spells. "I was there and here, as if in two times at once. I've felt that way three times before, and Harold had told me he was experimenting with a slice of time. I should have known." She paused, voice turning rueful, as she repeated his phrase, "A slice of time. But this time it was different, longer." She brought her gaze back to find Minerva staring steadfastly at her. "And by Merlin am I tired."

"After this duel, go lay down for twenty minutes."

"Minerva, it will be noticed."

"I'm sure St. Mungos, much like Hogwarts, occasionally requires its Administrator for a short bit." Minerva could see the hesitation, "For both yours and Harold's sake. A few minutes respite, as your bond was stretched. Trust me on this, love."

Recognition flashed in blue irises, "Do you feel drained at all times because of your bond too?"

Minerva's gaze flickered to Hermione and the way a protego charm rippled outward, her voice turning soft. "Much like you said, it is difficult to explain."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Alright Hermione!" Harry yelled out as Rory's body became still. "Yeah!" He cheered and others began clapping as her eyes found his. A smile breaking across her face as his widened farther, "Well done!" He said nodding to her, and he watched as she slowly stood upright and turned to McG and Helena as Harry was already moving forward.

He was in the next duel against Kane.

Helena countered Hermione's spells and with a nod to Minerva and Hermione left through the side door as Rory winced while standing.

Harry turned to McG to ask if the duel was postponed as Helena had left, but his question was nullified by her words. "Helena will be back shortly, I'll continue refereeing until she returns."

Hermione opened her mouth saying that she would assist, but Rory's distinct brogue was already upon the air. "As I seem ta be done for the day, I'll stay until Helena returns."

"Seems equitable." Kane stated and Harry nodded his agreement as Hermione wished him luck before heading towards the sidelines to rest. And Harry couldn't help but hope that he got through the next ten minutes well and with a stroke of luck, as that is what it would take to defeat the wizard he was about to face.

* * *

xoox

* * *

Michael applied another salve along Hermione's left arm, "I said _not_ to move." He scolded as Hermione cheered for Harry.

"Sorry," she half-heartedly muttered returning to her placid sitting position, "better?"

"You need to be in St. Mungos getting treatment." He cast a glance up and felt his insides turn cold as Harry dove and landed on his partially mended ribs. "Both you and Potter. To continue on is…"

"Real life," Hermione replied, "as you well know."

"But in real life, you aren't stunned; rather killed." Michael's voice chillingly stated, "Unless they are trying to capture you."

"I know," she whispered as brown eyes shifted to Minerva. It was something she tried never to think of, but Michael was accurate. The stakes being played today were high, but every time she was in a duel with Harkiss' followers, they were higher. Unlike the people here who were trying to capture and bring the followers to justice, anyone of the men or women in the room could or would be killed by a killing curse.

Innately her eyes had swept around the room, back to Minerva and then returned to the duel at hand as Harry countered a transfiguration spell morphing a snake into air.

Dozens of skilled witches and wizards who were so capable, but just like Dumbl…Albus, and they like her could be gone in a blink. Aberforth had already died, as had Adam Brunt and countless other previous professors, along with her own mother...and Hermione watched as Kane seemed to cut a strand of his hair and fling it outward.

Even as she was battling to save her parents and children, she hadn't even thought of using any of the unforgiveable curses. It had never entered her mind. Her first instinct was to paralyze, disable, immobilize her attacker, not kill them.

The hair morphed, grew and in a blink almost a half dozen men looking exactly like Kane was standing opposite of Harry.

_Damn_, Hermione thought as her jaw slackened, _how the hell did he do that?_ She heard someone sounding like Angelina asked her thought aloud. And from Harry's expression, he was wondering the same thing.

As Harry raised his wand, Hermione wondered at what point if ever it would take for her to utilize a killing curse and if she ever would. And she decided, at that point, she didn't want to know. She had survived one war and was into the second, and she had never had to kill anyone. Every single person she had ever attacked had survived, and she didn't know if she could survive knowing she had willingly taken another's life.

All seven wizards raised their wands and it seemed that seven spells engaged Harry's solitary one, not giving Harry or anyone else the knowledge as to which one the real Kane was.

Her eyes flickered to Minerva, and paused, because from the spark in her eye – it was apparent that _she _knew.

And her heart stopped as she processed her previous thought in correlation to Minerva. As she knew that Minerva had killed various wizards and witches. Had seen evidence on more than one occasion in just this year that Minerva had killed. What made her kill some and not others? Was she cognizant as to who she had and hadn't killed? And if she was, how did she move on after having killed someone?

Harry raised his wand again, and Hermione didn't bother watching the reaction that would invariably ensue. In her heart, she already knew somehow that Harry would win. She couldn't describe it, nor did she dare try.

Instead her gaze remained fixated upon the woman whom she was inexplicably drawn too for several heartbeats, as did her tumultuous thoughts. Thoughts that spun quickly away from death to what she wished – life. More importantly, an opportunity for Minerva's to be extended.

However, her musings were cut short as was her belief, because while Harry had discovered which Kane was the real one – it was evident that to do so had left him vulnerable. And Kane was and had capitalized on it.

Stunning Harry and ending the blazing duel with little fanfare.

Hermione watched as Rory thankfully stepped forward and nullified the stunning spell so Minerva didn't have to. But as recognition sparked again in Harry's eyes and theirs met, she reassured him that he hadn't let her down.

It was merely that Kane was good.

Real good.

And she was sure to join him on the sidelines as she was facing Filius next.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena felt a light tickle along her side and she rolled her head over to the side, eyes trying to focus on the small elf before her. "Bonnie…?" she croaked out.

"It is time to wake up."

Helena blearily sat upright, "I'm up," she said groaning as she ran a hand through her hair to push the unruly locks from her face. "How long was I asleep?"

"Twenty-four minutes." Bonnie replied as she handed a steaming cup of coffee with a dollop of sugar and hint of milk.

"You are an angel," she stood whilst taking the cup. "Have they started the next round?"

"Filius and Hermione will begin in four minutes."

Helena cocked her head to the right and then left, feeling her neck crack as she walked towards the mantle and set her cup momentarily on it so she could roll her right arm and shoulder. "Have you and the elves been watching?"

Bonnie chuckled, "Of course."

"And whom do you think will win the coming match?"

"I hope Lady Hermione. You?"

Blue eyes narrowed at the verbiage utilized by Bonnie before Hermione's name. In all the time she had known Bonnie, she had only ever heard her entitle very few women as Lady. "While Filius is a good friend, it would do well for Hermione to win." She grasped her cup taking a sip, eyes darting to the foundation of the tapestry and the initials that she and Minerva had often postulated as to who they were. She reached forward, fingertips trailing along the ancient fabric, and she tipped her head back – eyes scanning and landing on the light branch much farther inward than the spiraling branches that stretched generations outward.

The branch that held her best friend's name, and would in hardly any time join that of her forebears as death came and her name would turn silver.

"Do you think there is hope for Minerva?" Bonnie candidly asked.

Helena pulled her gaze from the tapestry, "I want to believe so, Meric's journal indicates there is hope, but…." her voice became weary, "I just don't know how."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva glanced to the clock, and then to the two approaching contestants. It seemed that either Helena had overslept, or Bonnie was having trouble waking her friend, either way, she was out of time.

And she'd have to start without Helena, knowing that there was undoubtedly a good reason, and that her friend would be along, soon.

Rory went to move forward to assist in refereeing, but she held up her hand to stay his movement. His expression asking if she was sure, and with a single nod, she returned her attention back to the approaching witch and wizard.

Both looked peaked, but determined as they pulled their wands out.

"Good luck to you both." She stated, before having them bow to the other and begin the duel.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I've seen some of the most unbelievable things in my life, and I can't help but want to believe that she will once again overcome the odds."

"It isn't merely about the odds, Bonnie."

Bonnie held her stalwart gaze, "I am aware, but in my life I have never concerned myself with odds as far as the Mistress is concerned. She, like you, exists in a place that defies them." Bonnie patted Helena's arm, "Perhaps that is why you two are such good friends and always have been." Bonnie could see the questioning gaze formulating on Helena's face and she elaborated, "You are each other's balance, she is your equal. And you are hers."

"Equal or not, I don't know what I will do when she isn't here."

"You aren't listening," Bonnie said, "life is balance." She could see the spark flash in blue eyes.

"Meric." Helena whispered.

Bonnie nodded, "Yes."

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Hermione dodged the flurry of spells that seemed to spring from the tip of Filius' wand at a speed that defied reason as a third one ricocheted off her protego charm.

He was being relentless.

And Hermione was struggling to maintain a defense, and she couldn't understand what had changed since the last time they had dueled. He had been fast before, had pushed her, but now…he was like another wizard entirely.

Except for the way he flicked his wrist and he was levitating several feet in the air, making them the same height.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena knelt before the elder house elf, "What did he tell you?"

"Meric has been gone for almost seventy years, I doubt the veracity of his words now."

"_What _did he say to you?"

"He and Lady Katherine both made me promise to protect Minerva."

Her head shook, "It cannot be, Helena. As much as I wish it to be true, it cannot. Because while she is alive, she remains bound."

"Meric's journals suggest that she lives past Albus."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione felt the numbing charm knick her knee, and she stumbled as her leg buckled beneath her. Thankfully the movement caused Filius' spell to be errant and she fired a spell back while nullifying the numbing charm.

Her leg erupted in feeling and pain from where her knee had struck the floor, as he rounded from the spell and fired back with a webbing of lightening.

The static prickled against her skin as the spell connected with a piece of wood she conjured. And in a strange way, it reminded her of the way Minerva's magic felt as it traveled along her skin.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

A deep sadness burned in the depths of golden orbs, "She has."

"Past their bond and to fall in love with another."

"You know as well as I that she is falling in love with Hermione, but she is still dying and will do so before the spring equinox."

"I know, and I have spoken to her but she believes Albus is her second love; Aegis her first."

"And you, you believe differently?"

"Yes, I do." Helena whispered.

Oxox

Filius felt the power in Hermione's spell shift, and he dug deeper into his magic hoping to push her further past the line of logic and to trust her instincts.

He could feel the sweat from exertion already running off his hair and down his face as he summoned the splinters flying outward and with a stroke and push; they shifted their momentum towards Hermione.

He watched as she went to conjure a protego charm, and a part of him almost felt giddy as she modified her spell so it transfigured the splinters to rain and let it wash over her as she sent a stunning hex imbedded in a sticking charm. His first spell peeled off the charm, his second nullified the hex.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Don't discount her love for Monsieur Black." Bonnie quietly stated, "She loved him, very much."

"Then how do you account her falling in love with Hermione?"

"I don't. Nor can I." Bonnie answered, "After all, how do you account for falling in love with Harold?"

"I…"

"Can't. It simply happened. Whether intended or not. Much like what is happening to her."

"And Meric? What did he tell you regarding Minerva?" Blue eyes pleaded with golden ones, "Please, tell me. If there is a way I can help her..."

"You can't." Bonnie breathed as a solitary tear fell off graying lashes, "No one can."

* * *

oxox

* * *

The water that had felt refreshing only moments ago now felt, clingy, tepid and far too uncomfortable as strands of her hair plastered against her cheek as she countered another barrage of spells; deflecting some to the left, the right as she dodged in conjunction to avoid a handful of others.

Without thought, she sent a double hex, feeling her magic strain with the effort and volume of its use for the day.

As brown eyes flickered to Filius, she could see that he was tired too.

But as he parried her spells, she knew that he'd not give an inch despite his mirroring fatigue no more than she'd grant him quarter.

He didn't like to lose.

She didn't either.

And with a muted groan, she poured herself into the next spell as she transfigured the dust in the air into metal; and then paralleled an engorgio charm to it, enlarging thick strands of metal that crashed into the floor in an attempt to create a cell.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"What did he say?" Helena prompted once more.

Heavy lids fell, covering golden eyes as her head and gaze dropped to the floor.

"Bonnie," Helena tenderly reached up barely resting a handful of fingers upon her shoulder, "if it'll save Minerva or give her a chance to live, please tell me."

Ears joined her shoulders and Helena felt her heart catch.

"Bonnie…?"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched the proficient display of transfiguration mixed with charms, by Hermione but inwardly smiled as Filius was already countering it before Hermione could finish. As much as she wished for Hermione to win, Filius was nothing short of a formidable opponent. And for Hermione to best him, she'd have to be quicker.

To highlight the fact, the metal flashed and was hovering above his left hand and in the next minute he cast it aloft and before another one of his spells touched it; Hermione's intersected his splintering the charm, color spewing everywhere as both Filius and Hermione hurled spells at the other.

Any lasting doubt regarding Hermione's ability and her decision to work and begin training evaporated as Filius was pushed backwards and Hermione arced her wand while moving a hair's breath out of the way, as wet hair clung to her face and her jaw was clenched in determination as she both countered and dodged the successive spells.

And she couldn't help but wish to be partaking in the duel against Hermione. To have that intent gaze focused upon her. To feel Hermione's magic ripple across hers. There was an intimacy to long, powerful duels; one that was better to remain untapped between them. Because she was certain, that much like her feelings, it would only heighten her desire to cross a line that she was determined to keep.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"I have known you a long time, Helena." Bonnie softly stated, finally drawing her eyes up to the blond headed witch. "I have watched you grow alongside Minerva. You are her most trusted friend. But her plight is even beyond your skill."

"If it wasn't Meric, then what did Katherine say?" Helena countered.

"To watch and protect their daughter."

Helena could see the muted spark, "What is it that you know?"

"Like you, I wish her to live, but I too have read every text within both the Manor and Ridge. And there are some irrefutable truths, even in our world. And you of all people, know this."

"I cannot help but _want_ to hope."

"Nor can I, but it doesn't change the fact that she will die. The only question that remains, is whether once she joins Albus if they will continue on together or if they will sever their bond and continue their journey separately." Bonnie gently patted Helena's hand, "Now," she smiled through the tears that had pooled in her eyes, "I am going to finish watching the Lady's duel and wish that she doesn't get herself injured this evening, because she and Minerva are to go out to dinner and a show."

And with that, Bonnie vanished.

"Out." Helena asked to the now vacant spot, and despite her utter fatigue and stiffness in her joints, she quickly pushed herself upright and ran through the aged library, across the hand woven rugs, her down trodden feelings momentarily forgotten as she burst through the door and jumped down two and three stairs at a time as she had done in her youth many times while visiting Minerva, and tore around the banister feeling giddy as a teenager.

How could she not?

Her best friend had a date.

She reached for the door handle, and forced herself to slowly turn the knob as she sucked in a deep breath feeling moderately winded as she stepped into the hall. Her keen eyes instantly scanning past the wall of onlookers and what had captured everyone's attention to land upon Minerva.

_That little shit,_ Helena swore under her breath as she glided deeper into the room as a cheer burst out of the crowd instantly followed by a groan, _I can't believe her!_

She found herself stopping along the far side of the room, less than twenty meters from Minerva, not able to enter the dueling area while one was in progress. She could feel Harold's questioning gaze, and she smiled at him and gave a subtle shake of her head. While she knew he could feel her odd jubilance, she was _not_ about to talk to him about it now.

_No, definitely not now_, she reiterated to herself trying not to let her impatience show at how long it was taking either person to win. _Didn't they realize she had pressing business to talk to Minerva about?_

_ Like how the hell she let 'that' slip her mind while having drinks the night before last? _

Swallowing her increasingly growing frustration, she forced herself to turn to the duel. And was momentarily shocked to see that Hermione was drenched, top of her robes, hair and sweat was running down her face; and Filius was as white as a sheet and hair as matted as Hermione's.

And from the way their spells danced about the other, it was no wonder they both looked like they did – they were dueling as the family used too. And while entertaining, her eyes remained on the younger of the two contestants.

The one who was bewitching her best friend and succeeding despite the sundry of reasons why it couldn't.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

A cheer went through the elves, as Filius' body went stiff indicating that Lady Hermione had won. And while she was clapping alongside everyone else, Elgin easily noticed that something was amiss.

"Did Blondie say something upsetting?" he quietly asked.

"We merely spoke of how little time a month actually is."

He needed no prompting, no other words, as he _knew_ exactly what she was referring to. The Mistress had left Mr. Brunt's journals about her private office along with those from her father, the date plainly written upon the texts. A date that was rapidly approaching.

Reaching forward, his small arm wrapped about her slight frame and pulled her to him, lips brushing across her forehead before it was burrowed into his shoulder.

Because while he couldn't imagine losing the Mistress, having known her for over fifty years; the woman in his arms had helped to raise her from infancy and protect her along the way only to now lose her after eighty-seven years.

There was nothing they could do except be there for her as the days rapidly approached while hoping for a miracle, but knowing that one did not exist.

And that after February 25th, their own lives would be torn asunder as the woman who had brought them together would be gone and they'd both have to make decisions regarding their new charges.

For the first time in over fifty years, their own lives would be split as he was paid to ensure the Head of Hogwarts remained healthy, safe; she, the head of McGonagall Manor.

Where that left them, he didn't know; and it scared him.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena swallowed her overwhelming urge to literally run onto the floor after the duel, forcing herself to pause and seek out her husband. After all, he was to duel next. "Good luck."

He smiled and nodded to Minerva, "Care to share the sudden mood shift?"

"Perhaps later," she coyly remarked, eyes sparkling. "I know how you do love mysteries, consider this one for the afternoon."

"Incorrigible," he muttered while walking beside her as the walls and floor were once again returned to their pristine state. "Well done, Hermione." He stated pausing before the younger witch who was standing in front of Minerva.

Tiredly, Hermione turned to the Harrisons, "Thank you."

"I'd suggest copious amounts of chocolate, and a few glasses of water."

"I thought I'd merely soak myself in ice," Hermione remarked drawing several light chuckles.

"Always an option, but I don't think it'll help offset the fatigue that's sure to come." Helena said.

"To come," she tipped her head to the side to meet blue eyes, "surely you jest as it arrived before _this _duel."

"Well _that_ is welcome news for later." Kane quipped drawing to the small group.

"Careful," Filius wiped his face as he arrived beside Minerva, "as you do have to win against Harold before having an opportunity to best the Lady of the day."

Minerva didn't bat an eyelash as she moved on, "Kane and Harold if you could please take your places." She motioned to the floor, "And I cannot thank either one of you enough for the brilliant duel. I'd suggest ingesting a pepper up potion, Hermione so it'll have started working before the final duel along with Helena's suggestions. Filius," she genuinely smiled at her friend, "ask Bonnie for a glass of malt to ease the ache in your joints."

"As I'm done for the day, I do believe I shall be taking you up on your offer."

Minerva nodded and both witch and wizard began walking away as she turned to the two wizards voice dropping, "Do both try to remember that is an audience watching."

As one, they turned to Minerva looking mildly affronted, "As though we wouldn't."

Even Helena's face turned dubious before remarking, "Right."

Minerva's brow arched, but otherwise she refrained from commenting, and merely cleared her throat, "Wands at the ready."

She gave the instruction to bow and stepped back, instantly feeling a silencing charm ripple over skin as the men instantly engaged the other, but Helena's question drove the blazing duel fully from Minerva's mind.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were going on a date?"

Green eyes jerked from the duel as quickly as Kane transfigured the spell, "What?" She asked as her voice rose in pitch.

"Let me see if this is clearer for you. Tonight, you are going on a date with Hermione."

"I most certainly am not going on a date."

"Dinner and a show." Helena countered, "Sounds like a date."

"Then we are practically engaged as you and I have been to countless dinners and shows," Minerva retorted.

"Bonnie set this up."

"Of course she did," Minerva barely noticing the way Kane's transfiguration spell nullified the protego charm, literally transforming the shield charm into something else, "she sets up ninety-five percent of my plans."

"And then what do you call this? A night out with a friend?"

"Precisely."

"Even though you've admitted you're attracted to her?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Helena; what would you have me say?"

"The truth; that you are going on a date with her."

Minerva let her eyes watch the steady flow of magic between the two wizards, as she most certainly was not going to agree with Helena's assessment which was in part the truth; but the reason for her concession to go ahead and plan the evening was that she truly didn't know if she'd be alive by this time tomorrow. And she was _not_ going to divulge that sundry detail to the woman standing next to her. "I'll concede to an evening out with a friend, but most certainly _not_ a date."

"I knew it!" Helena exclaimed.

"Oh do try and contain yourself."

A blond brow arched, "As if you would or did when our roles were reversed."

"That was a long time ago."

"As if that matters." Helena retorted, "Now, do give the details."

"Helena." Minerva's voice held a warning.

But true to her nature, she didn't care. "Oh posh, dear. Let me believe as I know a part of you does to that this could go somewhere and not that you will be dead within six weeks time. I also know that nothing but dinner and a show will come of it, because of your commitment and bond to Albus. And despite all that, you are still going out this evening. So, where are you going?"

"Please tell me that you are not serious."

"As a killing curse."

"Fine, Bonnie has set reservations at the Linden Tree and then we are to watch a show at Mermaid Arts Centre."

"And why didn't you feel like you could tell me?" Helena felt a weight settle upon her chest, "Did you think that I or Harold would judge you for going out with her?"

"Helena, it is selfish and I…"

"Think it's wonderful." Helena quietly interjected with a partial smile, "I'm thrilled that you are going to enjoy the evening with a _friend_. I only wish that," tears pushed against her eyes, "you would have told me."

A partial smile pulled at her lips, "I would have," green eyes twinkling, "tomorrow."

Helena felt a sudden draw upon her magic causing her attention to be momentarily pulled back to the duel, sparks brilliantly flashing away from Harold as a litany of spells were deflected away. "I know you feel guilty," she whispered, "but don't." Blue eyes turned back to her friend, gazing at her until finally she too turned, "Don't." She quietly repeated as her husband conjured a wall of fire, momentarily blocking them from everyone's view as she finished, "As I imagine since you've been to see not only to see Harold and I this week, but had dinner with your family, that you found Phillip and mean to go after him this coming week. So, please love, enjoy the evening for what it is." She turned back, a tear slipping from her blond lashes as her bond pulsed again; this time in concern for her.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Harry gently extracted Hermione from the throng of people giving her advice on how to best Harold; and on what not to use, what to use and somewhere in the middle she could have sworn it all overlapped. However, as he led her away, she vaguely noticed that the one person she _had _wanted to speak with was finally coming her way. Or rather had been until Harry had pulled her away.

"Figured you could relax the last few minutes," Harry stated as they stepped through the doors and into the quiet sanctity of Manor's hall.

"Yeah," she murmured, resisting the temptation to look back over her shoulder to see if Minerva had followed, but in her heart she already knew the answer, no. "How are you feeling?"

"My shoulder is on the mend, you?"

"Exhausted, but I'll manage."

"Did you drink a pepper up potion?"

"After my duel with Filius." She nodded back to the room, "Any advice?"

"Just the same you gave me."

"Don't get hit," they chorused together, smiles adorning both their faces. And he shrugged, "It's good advice."

"Generic, but good." Hermione quipped causing his smile to broaden.

"You know, you might take him and actually win this thing."

She chuckled, "I know. Can you believe it?"

A wave of seriousness swallowed the humor lacing his face, "Yes." He quietly nodded, "I do. You are the smartest, bravest person I know, Hermione."

"Don't be maudlin."

"I'm not," a sparkle flashed in olive eyes, "just envious." He reached up and laid his hand on her shoulder, "And so very proud."

Her lips quirked incrementally upwards, "Thank you, Harry." She whispered leaning forward and embracing him, "You are such a wonderful friend."

"Now look who's maudlin," he cajoled as they separated.

"Just too much magical expenditure for the day."

_Not counting the emotional highs and lows too_, he thought back to how the morning started with Ron and whatever happened at Hogwarts and then the highs of besting Wendall, Rory, Tessa, and now Filius. "So, have you thought of what to ask for if you win?" He motioned back to the main hall, as the final duel was to start within two minutes before they departed.

"Not really," she said walking through the doorway, "as I don't want to jinx it."

"She could probably put her hands on a copy of Clifton Dextor's transfiguration guide, or hell…" his eyes scanned past her to McGonagall, "probably knows your landlord and could put the fear of God into her so she stops gauging you on rent."

Hermione's lips pinched, "The first perhaps, the latter. No way. Besides, after this year, I'm hoping to buy a small place."

"Well, if from what Filius stated is trued, then go slightly bigger than a book, when you win."

"What would you ask for?" Hermione asked, pausing despite Harold already standing in the middle of the room, waiting.

"Maybe quidditch tickets…" he said as his focus came back to Hermione, voice becoming exceedingly soft, "and dinner." He absently nodded, "Yeah, probably dinner with her and then the tickets."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

It was easy to see that both contestants were tired.

Exhausted, really.

And why wouldn't they be?

They had engaged in four duels prior to the one that had just commenced. And Audrey just inwardly winced as the first foray of spells collided, because if they were tired before the duel, she didn't want to imagine how they'd both feel after.

Instead, she watched the duel and the breath taking display of magic that both Harold and Hermione were performing. It brought back memories of the duels she used to watch Percival's parents engage in with the Flammels or Harold or Derrick and Rory.

The quick parry and the throng of spells that followed, immediately offset by a defender blocking and moving to escape the flurry of hexes, jinxes and curses. How charms were imbedded in a conjuring spell that morphed from a transfigured object before a defensive spell collided and shrank the bolt to nothingness.

As Hermione's sapphire robe flowed about her, Audrey couldn't help but marvel at the younger witch's prowess. And it was no wonder why Tessa disliked her. As she would undoubtedly be taking the mantle that Minerva would be vacating all too soon, as the most powerful witch of the age; a mantle that Tessa believed she should inherit. However, despite Tessa's belief, she didn't have the innate ability or skill that her mother had. Not that she couldn't, it was something that she believed would come to her upon command and not something that had to be honed and refined; neither of which she was keen to do as that would mean she'd have to acknowledge that her mother's skill far surpassed her own and that she could in fact learn something from her mother.

A fact that she and Esmerele both called her on, which she stoutly disregarded. As Tessa wanted nothing to do with Transfiguration, or any area that her mother showed proficiency; unless her father could teach her. And while Albus was phenomenal in many fields of study, especially charms and alchemy, Minerva surpassed his expertise in Transfiguration and Defense in spades.

And now, at the end, her sister-in-law was having to stare into her own pride and she feared before Minerva's passing; Tessa would have to swallow it whole and finally acknowledge that perhaps her mother was as good as her father, and that she wasted a lifetime wishing she hadn't been. Missing innumerable opportunities to learn from Minerva as she rebuffed each instance with borderline disdain; still believing that her mother was a mere shadow to that of her father.

She didn't know if she felt sorry or not for Tessa. As she had spent almost thirty years as her sister-in-law, trying to alter Tessa's belief and perception regarding Minerva. Thirty years at having to watch her mother-in-law swallow her own pride as she would time and again reach out to her daughter and continually be rebuffed. Thirty years…she had been a part of the family, and even though she was an in-law, Minerva still took her under her tutelage and taught her that which she wished to know. Minerva was one of the most giving persons she had ever known, and still that had not been enough for Tessa.

And now thirty years later, it seemed that another person would be inheriting that which she believed was hers.

And Audrey couldn't help but smile at the irony. As Tessa was afforded the same opportunity as Hermione, well countless opportunities more if one were being honest. It's just that Hermione grasped the solitary one given, while Tessa let well over a hundred slip through her fingers. And in doing so, the very thing she believed she was entitled to that it was readily apparent that she'd never receive – her mother's mantle.

The one thing Tessa had profusely and stoutly detested throughout her entire life, but now at the end, it seemed it was the one thing she most sought after. And she probably could have had it, had she merely embraced but one opportunity so readily given.

Instead, the woman whose body twisted to avoid the hex, would inherit the title. And for that, Audrey couldn't be happier; because Hermione, like Minerva seemed to care past her own desires. She was a woman who Audrey looked forward to knowing, and hoped to have an opportunity to do so. It seemed that Minerva had chosen her as her successor, as was highlighted by the brilliant display of magic today. And perhaps that was the true difference between Tessa and Hermione; one was the matriarch's daughter, her heir – and by such, believed she was entitled to that which Minerva held; the other, a friend who wanted nothing but help and was willing to do what needed to be done in order to achieve the goal.

And that the parody that she had witnessed between Hermione and Minerva; perhaps that is what upset Tessa the most.

Either way, Tessa was the one who would have to live with the choices and missed opportunities.

She watched as Harold's body was propelled backwards until his back slammed and left an imprint in the wall from the force of the colliding spell; and she could only hope that the remarkable woman wouldn't have to bear the brunt of Tessa's fallen pride.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold straightened his back, feeling it catch as he eyed his opponent and knew that the next series of spells would delineate the winner, as they were both too tired to prolong this any longer as was evident by their last foray. Both had cast elaborate combinations and a cacophony of spells that neither was able to wholly avoid, but they had both been able to avoid enough to still be standing.

Somewhat.

He felt his stomach roll, and spit out another slug.

He'd have to deal with _that_, later.

As he was _not _about to lose to the young woman, not because he didn't think she didn't deserve it. Hell after the gauntlet Minerva had put her through, and for her to still be standing, she deserved to win on merit alone. However, it was for a far more personal reason – for both he and Helena.

Or more importantly, for him.

And his conscious.

Because he was going to ask what he had no right to ask of her for his prize.

And with that firmly in mind, he twirled his wand between fingers; mind hashing a viable plan as his stomach clenched again.

* * *

Xoox

* * *

Hermione cocked her head to the right, her entire left side on fire from the last bout of acrobatic moves she had had to partake in to avoid the litany of spells Harold had flung at her. The only consolation was that he was turning as green as pea soup; and with far too much ease, he spit out another slug. She didn't know how he was able to stomach the sickening event, but she was sure it was no different than her fighting through the numbness in her right leg.

However, the one thing she was assured of, was that one of them would fall soon. They were both too tired, they were getting careless and trying to find a hole in the other person's defense thereby leaving their own open.

And as he lifted his wand, she matched his movement; mind drifting back to Harry's conversation before the match.

Because, she couldn't help but ponder _what she would ask for_. As it had irrevocably changed since this morning when she had thought of being able to obtain an obscure book or two.

Surprisingly, after her discussion with Filius, she found that if she were truly being honest with herself, it wasn't objects or books or anything of substance that she wanted; but something more personal. Something that _only_ Minerva could provide her. A weekend without distractions, a weekend away from Hogwarts, a weekend away from the stress of the wizarding world and Harkiss, a weekend where she could see if the innate pull she felt towards Minerva was reciprocated and if it was, do something she had been _wanting_ to do for some time, to lean up and kiss Minerva McGonagall.

And for Minerva to kiss her back.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva had hoped that Hermione would pull off the upset, but Harold had an unfair advantage – his bond to Helena. And no one save her understood the dynamics of what that meant, however, now at the end of the tournament, after they had both dueled four other opponents, it was becoming apparent that Hermione didn't have the same reserves as he. Because, how could she? He was tapping into Helena's.

And still, she fought on. Pushing him, forcing him to dig deeper, and she was surprised to see a discharge pulse outward with enough strength to propel Harold backward twenty meters and slam into the wall with enough force to leave an impression.

Both Harold and Hermione pausing, the duel obviously having already left a mark on the other as she winced while stretching her side and he spitting up another slug causing Helena to groan beside her.

"I don't know if he'll take her." Helena whispered, "He's utterly exhausted, and I don't want to even tell you how nauseous he is."

"She's as exhausted as he." Minerva replied, but could see from her weight was dispersed that one of Harold's spells did make it through her defense last round. "And she's favoring her right leg."

Blue eyes narrowed, and easily noticed what Minerva was referencing. "That isn't good."

"I don't believe this duel will last but a dozen or spells more," Minerva murmured as both witch and wizard lifted their wands.

Helena could feel a gentle draw on their bond as Harold hefted two body bind hexes at Hermione, and the room was surprised as Hermione's counter spell sliced through and dissolved the oncoming spells while charging at Harold. And she could feel his momentary puzzlement and curiosity before it was squelched and he lifted his left hand; a pulse extending out and Helena almost collapsed from the sudden, sharp draw of magic as the pulse intersected with the oncoming spell as the distinct sound of his wand clattered to the floor.

And everyone watched, Minerva included as the spell gradually came to a stop only centimeters from him; his body's magical signature and that of Helena's pulsing around him as he stopped the spell. His gaze having been fixed upon the ball only centimeters from his chest, and then he snapped his head up to Hermione; light splaying off his face showing a mix of awe at either what he had just done or at the spell Hermione had cast – but it didn't last long, because in the next blink he pushed his arms forward and in the next heartbeat, his hand was catching his wand and a spell was hurling behind the ball at a speed that quickly overcame the ball fracturing the spell that had been hurled at him; and Hermione's eyes grew to the size of bludgers as her wand whirled through the air to try and stop what she had cast.

And Minerva felt her heart lift that it seemed as if she'd best her own spell, but as her eyes flickered to where Harold should have been; she realized that Hermione would in deed lose. As she, like everyone else, had been focused on the immediate; and not the next instant which was where Harold was already at.

Emerald eyes glanced to behind Hermione, and was not at all surprised to see Harold step from a wisp of smoke and with barely a wave; Hermione's body froze and then in the next instant, she and he were across the room as the last of the spell that Hermione was defending against crashed in a cacophony of color and sound against the barrier separating the participants from the onlookers.

Minerva instantly began clapping, as Harold dropped to a knee and spit out another slug. "Well done!"

The room broke into a raucous applause, and Harold took another steadying breath; as he wiped his mouth before forcing himself to stand and unparalyze Hermione. She took a harrowing breath, their eyes meeting the others and he gave her the briefest of nods before slipping his wand into his robe and striding across the room and embracing his wife. He held onto her for a long moment, twirling her in the air before setting her down and looking at their dearest friend.

"I believe," he swallowed the vile slime back down, "that you owe me a prize." The room in its entirety quieted down, intent to hear what Harold was going to ask for.

"That I do." Minerva smiled at him, "Pray tell what is it that you seek?"

"The first," he leaned forward and whispered in her ear so no other could hear, "your word that you will not die while going after Phillip, even if you shall be a squib for the last month of your life."

"And the second," she breathed out, voice obviously shaken by his request as he leaned back.

"Not until I have the first," he said aloud.

Her jaw tightened, and emerald eyes hardened until finally she consented, "Very well."

"Dinner next Friday evening with Helena and I. Of course," he reached over pulling his wife to him, "it'll be your treat."

"I'll forward the arrangements tomorrow evening."

"Wait, what was the first part of the prize?" Seamus asked, "I didn't hear it."

"I'm afraid Mr. Finnigan, that that is between me and the winner." Minerva clearly stated, eyes remaining upon Harold as she continued on, "I thank you all for coming this morning, and I shall see you in two weeks."

Helena turned to her husband, "I don't want to know what you asked, do I?"

Clear blue eyes met hers, and she knew the answer. _No._

She nodded, "Very well. I'll be home later, but do see Michael for the slugs dear. I fear my stomach can't take much more." And with a fleeting kiss, she was gone and beside Hermione and Harry talking about treating the younger woman's injuries.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"I believe I can handle this," Helena snapped at Michael, "go see to my husband."

"I'd have thought you'd prefer to treat him."

Helena lifted her hand to her mouth, and shook her head. "Not really, no."

Hermione felt bad, "Sorry about that."

"Ahh, it'll pass." Helena stated with little fanfare, and turned to Harry, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I broke my clavicle earlier."

"Why don't you go ahead and visit Ginerva, they can treat you better at St. Mungos and you can rest while talking with her."

"I'll be fine. Besides there is a fairly large group of us going to get some lunch at Fortescue's."

"Hermione won't be joining you, I need to treat her side from what earlier today, and lift the numbing hex from my husband. It'll be at best an hour before she's ready."

"Just go, I'll catch up with everyone tomorrow."

He cast a glance to Helena and then back to her, "You sure?"

She nodded, "Yeah, besides I really want to take a shower."

"Call me later, we'll do something." He leaned over kissing her cheek, "You did awesome, love."

"You too."

Helena waited a hair's breath of a second before interjecting, "Do you want to shower before I treat the area?"

Hermione's eyes flickered to the handful of people still talking to Minerva, and was about to say that no, she was fine, but Helena was watching her and she found herself nodding, despite wanting nothing more than to remain. "Yeah, actually. That would great."

Helena didn't comment, and merely asked for Elgin who to Hermione's surprise arrived next to them. "Would you mind taking us to Hermione's rooms."

Elgin laid his hands on both Blondie's and Hermione, "You'se did us very proud today, Madame Hermione." And with a muffled ruffle, they were gone and back at Hogwarts as though nothing had changed, when in reality – everything had.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: While I had hoped to include Minerva & Hermione's evening out; I didn't want to 'rush' the end of the day, so the day got broke into thirds. __And just for the record, I doubt I'll be writing another 'tournament' again. They take a lot out of me as we have already hit 60 pages between this chapter and the last one, and the fun part of the day is just getting ready to start ;)_

_As always, I hope you enjoyed!_


	95. Chapter 90c January 23rd, 2010

**Chapter 90c ~ January 23****rd****, 2010 (Saturday)**

**Part III**

Minerva felt rather than saw Elgin depart, and upon lifting her gaze she saw that Helena had left with Hermione. _Damn her_, Minerva inwardly cursed as she tried to recall what Wendell was saying as her daughter bid Malcolm farewell stating she wished to remain a few more minutes to speak with her. And Minerva didn't know whether to laugh outright, or just break down and cry in frustration at what the next half hour meant; not counting _what_ her best friend was relaying to Hermione – who still did not know of the whole of their plans.

_Just great,_ she thought wondering how the day could become any more complicated; unfortunately its name was Ronald Weasley as he pushed his brother Charlie and she couldn't help but wonder when five o'clock would be here as she dropped her walking stick and with a tremor split the boys apart.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Helena absently flicked through the defense against the dark arts journal, thanking whatever miracle Michael had bestowed upon her husband as her stomach finally settled down. "Finally," she muttered leaning her head back, taking a deep breath.

"How bad was the nausea?" Hermione inquired as she stepped out in a pair of shorts and shirt while pulling a brush through her hair.

"Rather uncomfortable," Helena turned her head as Hermione came closer, and she nodded to the short chesterfield. "Have a seat."

"If I start dozing, it's not the company." Hermione winced while sitting, "I'm just exhausted."

Helena raised her hand and with barely any movement a faint diagnostic appeared before her, "I'm not surprised, and you probably should sleep for an hour or two."

"How long have you and Harold been bound?"

Helena absently answered as she read the information before her, "Thirty-nine years."

"And why do it?"

Blue eyes slid past the diagnostic to meet Hermione's, and instead of the coy remark on the tip of her tongue, she found herself pausing and seriously considering answering the younger witch. Not because her best friend was falling for her, but because she was willing to wager her precious stash of malt from Minerva that the attraction Minerva felt for Hermione was mutual; but Hermione had absolutely no idea what she was getting involved in. And that the outcome would be many things, good not amongst them. "Have you at least read a book on the topic?"

Hermione shrugged, "Of course. Bonding, A Marriage Alternative."

Helena couldn't keep the disdain from the inflection in her voice, "Roger Axon." She shook her head while pulling her glasses out, "Damn fool."

"So, then you aren't very fond of him?" Hermione quipped causing Helena's face to lighten despite the previous sourness of her expression.

"Hardly, the man makes Gildroy Lockheart seem sane."

"Ouch," Hermione muttered, "that's harsh."

"As is trying to read and lend credence to his published material," she placed her glasses on, "I'm going to begin with your right leg and nullify the numbing hex that is interlaced with the muscles; and then remove the locked joint charm on your ankle; before we move to your left side and heal the sores and pulled muscles and other soft tissue."

"Locked joint charm?" Hermione leaned further back into the cushions as Helena lifted her leg, "Can't say I've heard of that one."

"It doesn't help that I'm a healer, as it gives Harold a variety of ways to stop someone in a duel."

"That is a scary notion."

"As are Axon's publications," Helena set her hands upon either side of Hermione's calf, "as the feeling returns, it will burn."

"How swell." Hermione involuntarily clenched the handle of the brush.

"Just relax," Helena whispered and with a muted spell, she focused on the sinew and bone; a glow pulsing from Hermione's leg as she felt her magic pull and Harold's instantly swell to assist her.

"Why is Axon's book so off the mark regarding bonding?"

"It only highlights the negatives," Helena muttered as she continued to nullify the hex, "and not the positives."

"What could possibly make you _want_ to bond with someone who when they die, you do too?"

A soft chuckle slipped past supple lips, "Death is not enough of a deterrent."

"How can you say that?"

"The intimacy that exists between the two who are bound is unlike anything," Hermione's sharp intake of breath momentarily intersected her commentary, "that can be described. There are no barriers left between them."

"But…" Hermione pushed her head back into the pillow, "wouldn't you lose your individuality? And what if you wanted some time alone, I'd think…ah…damn!" She clenched her jaw as her fingers tightened around the brush handle, "that hurts!"

"Alone takes on a whole new meaning," Helena answered, "as you never are. And after some time," she paused as her thoughts drifted to her dearest friend, "it becomes impossible for you to fathom being alone again."

"But how do you live with the constant intrusion?"

"Loving someone isn't intrusive, Hermione." She let her fingers roll over the muscle and bone, "And feeling their love for you, every moment of every day, is intoxicating." And Hermione's eyes snapped open as Helena pushed on her calf.

"Jordan said that it increases the combined lifespan." Her voice rose an octave, "That is barring any complications."

"The bonding of two persons can either increase or decrease their lives. As everything is shared, from the good to the bad."

"The nausea for instance," Hermione interjected.

"An example of the bad," Helena whispered, "whereas sex," she glanced up over the rim of her glasses to see brown eyes boring into hers, "would be the epitome of good."

"It can't be _that_ different from before, right?"

Blue eyes held brown ones, unyieldingly before finally responding. "But it is."

A deep burning shot up Hermione's calf and into her thigh, causing a deep moan to be pulled from her and then it was gone just as fast; and Hermione watched as Helena ran another diagnostic spell on her leg. "After the last few minutes, I can say that I'm not feeling as bad about the slug thing with Harold."

"Careful dear I haven't touched your ankle," Helena quipped.

However, Hermione let the remark fall away as she was far more curious about the previous topic. "How can it be different? I mean, really, the mechanics are the same."

A rueful chuckle slipped from Helena, "But the feeling, is not." Blond locks shifted as she again turned slightly to meet Hermione's gaze, "I feel when Harold is happy or when he's nauseous, and in particular I feel his anticipation and it is building off mine. Think about the precious moment before you reach an orgasm, and all that you feel, now multiply that by three and you'll start to have a rudimentary concept."

"Even though there are only two of you?"

Helena's lips quirked, "Yes, even though there are only two, but it feels endless. I can't put it into words, for that I am sorry, but I can tell you that I couldn't imagine not having become bound to my husband. Despite the official policy at St. Mungos regarding the topic, personally I would recommend it."

"But what if Harold was struck with a curse that blinds him in his right eye, would you not become blinded too?"

Helena withdrew her wand, "Partially."

"Partially, how partially?"

"Everyone's bond is different, the strength, closeness, the magic, draw, the whole of the bond. Because of the bond, I may become partially blind and instead of him becoming blind, he also only becomes partially blind because the effect is spread over two versus one."

"But if the bond is not that strong, then it could cause the one person, say you to be partially blinded and Harold to be fully blind?"

"A possibility, but doubtful. In the handful of persons who are bound, the blindness would have been spread over both persons and not have solely affected one while adversely affecting the other. Rather the person struck with the curse would not have suffered as badly as the curse would have been mitigated by the bond."

"How many people, couples, do you know of who _are_ bound?"

"Ahh," Helena waved her wand, a pulse went out and with her hand she was already moving Hermione's foot, "that is a _very_ good question, but will remain for the safety of all involved unanswered."

"It can't be that prevalent, I mean; the ramifications of being bound especially during Voldemort's uprising would have been difficult."

"It was." Helena honestly answered.

"I didn't mean," Hermione realized what her previous comment sounded like, "you and Harold as you are both so vivacious and…"

"We almost died several times. Others weren't as lucky, however, there are still some people who lived through the ordeal with Voldemort and some new couples who have chosen to become bound. And as I said, it is something that I personally would recommend."

"It doesn't seem that many people have done it, or I'd have heard of it before this past year."

"Doubtful, as it is not something that is talked about. Only my closest friends and family know of Harold's and my bond."

Hermione adjusted herself, "So you are telling me, people whom I've known for years could be bound to their spouse and they've never told me or anyone."

Helena set Hermione's foot down, "Yes."

"Is there like a club or something that those who are bound belong so you know?"

"I'm a healer and the Administrator of St. Mungos, so I know most of the couples who are bound across England."

"Do I know anyone other than Harold and you who are bound?"

Helena's world momentarily stopped as she tried not to look away as she answered, "Yes, you do and no, I won't be telling you."

"Are you sure I do?"

"Quite," Helena succinctly replied while shifting Hermione to her side so she could begin repairing the burns. Hermione wasn't silent for even five seconds as her brown hair fell across her shoulder so she could once again look at Helena.

"If being bound to someone helps to negate the effects of a spell as it is spread across two people versus one, why hasn't Minerva sought to bind herself with someone?" Hermione's mind went into overload at the possible implications, "Have you spoken with her about this? Of course you have, which bodes the question as to why she hasn't? I mean, surely since Dumbledore's passing she has had suitors. Hell, she probably had them throughout their marriage too since they never publically announced their betrothal. And while I imagine she'd be reluctant to divulge her condition, but to a lover I'd have thought…unless she hasn't found someone she can be close enough to. Or she isn't willing to risk their life? Or is there more? I mean, I have known her for the better part of six months; and I haven't seen anyone who I would think she was romantically involved with. But of course that doesn't surprise me, as she continually keeps her life shrouded in mystery and with as secretive she was about Dumbledore, I can only imagine how secretive she'd be regarding a new lover." A light chortle left her lips, "Tessa would not be well with that."

Helena finally commented on the topic, the meaning lost to the babbling woman in front of her, "No, I daresay she would not be."

"How do you think Percival would be?"

Helena continued diagnosing how severe Hermione's side was, "Shocked but far more understanding if it meant that Minerva was happy."

"And," Hermione's thoughts backtracked to a very real, very plausible possibility, one that the woman less than a meter away could answer. And her heart suddenly sped up at the mere notion of what she was about to ask. "has she?"

Helena didn't dare to glance up, appearing far more intent than she actually was as she could heal the wounds before her without thought. She had mastered that particular incantation years prior thanks to her time on the front lines in Belgium. "Has she what?"

"Been involved with anyone since Dumbledore's death?" Hermione breathed, heart hammering in her chest as her stomach recoiled at the mere notion of what she had just asked. Because as the seconds ticked by, a handful of thoughts pierced her consciousness; _Who would she have been involved with? Would she be willing to be again, to save her life? _

_How would I feel if that were to happen? _

Helena stopped feigning being engaged and met Hermione's gaze as she answered with steel lining the solitary word, "No."

Hermione almost flinched at the firmness contained within Helena's voice as her heart both lifted and sank simultaneously. "So her being able to bond to someone to alleviate the effects of her condition and elongate her life are futile?"

Being the Administrator of one of the largest medical facilities in Europe had barely prepared her for answering the question just posed. After all, this was not regarding a hypothetical situation or even a friend; but her best friend – who was dying because of the very thing Hermione was suggesting would save her life. "I'm afraid that the subject, and its entirety is a dead end."

"How can you be so stoutly adamant about it regarding Minerva when the alternative is that she'll die?" Hermione bristled, suddenly feeling a spark of anger ignite.

Helena's jaw clenched as she tried to reign in her temper at Hermione's comment, knowing that anger versus tact and wits would be ill-advised. "Because it is not an option, and shan't be. And as much as I wish it were, there are no more miracles Hermione. She is dying."

"Even if she bound herself to someone?"

Helena opted for a different tact, "Could you imagine spending the rest of your life with Seamus Finnegin?" Hermione's face blanched, "I thought not. Being bound is far more intimate, and while I would recommend the process; I would not do so if the couple hadn't been married for several years because once done it cannot be undone without a tremendous cost. Additionally the spell will not take unless both persons truly want it to happen, and then there is the adjustment period following the process while the couple grapples with what it means to be bound. Minerva, anyone, who binds themselves to another; has to be in love with that person – Hermione. And while it sounds like a plausible notion, at this juncture Minerva hasn't been in a relationship since Albus' death and with everything else going on, I doubt she'd initiate one."

Despite wanting to comment, Hermione didn't. Instead, her mind leapt forward at the miniscule ray of hope; not willing to focus on the mountain of obstacles that were lying in the way of prolonging Minerva's life. Because, from what Helena said, it _could_ happen. Vaguely, she felt Helena's deft fingers continue to heal her side, as she pondered Helena's commentary and the possibilities.

One option was to find a suitor who Minerva could love, and that would be willing to bond himself to her. However, if she hadn't dated anyone since Albus' death that made it more difficult unless she found someone whom she was with prior.

It took all of a heartbeat for the image of Aegis Black to come to the forefront and as much as she wished it hadn't – she couldn't stop the mental image of the two of them sweeping across her Manor in an elegant dance; Minerva gaily laughing with her head tipped back exposing the length of her neck…and Aegis leaning forward…

Hermione closed her eyes to try to stop the visualization that was piercing her heart; because as much as she _wanted_ Minerva to live; she realized that it would be very difficult to watch her love another.

And she pondered a far more appealing and in reality, a fantastical option that she was sure would never come to fruition. As she wasn't sure if she'd be willing to bond to anyone – even Minerva. But for a moment, as another spell washed over her side, she let her head rest on the cushion and imagine a world where Minerva did live…and _she_ was able to be with her.

* * *

Xoox

* * *

Minerva let an audible sigh leave her lips as her daughter finally departed the Manor, "Bonnie," she breathed turning away from the floo network, "I'm going to return to Hogwarts to rest for a few hours."

"Do you require some assistance preparing for your evening?"

"No," Minerva quickly replied before a look of reproach filled her face, "rather several minutes to go over the arrangements planned for the evening."

Bonnie's eyes scanned over the Mistress, "Of course," she reached her hand out, laying her fingers upon Minerva's forearm, "and I'll come over early in case you'd like some assistance."

Minerva swallowed her pride, "Thank you, Bonnie."

"Get some rest, Minerva." Bonnie whispered as she released Minerva's arm.

"I am indebted for all of your assistance this morning."

"As always, you are more than welcome."

Minerva smiled in return and reached into the container, withdrawing some floo powder, snapped her wrist; and in one fluid movement exited the Manor and entered her office to a chorus of hellos. She held up her hand, "I'm going to lie down for a while, if there is an emergency; please relay it through Albus."

"If you don't mind answering one question before retiring," Everard interjected causing her to pause, hand resting upon the brass banister, "who won the duel this morning?"

"Harold," her eyes flickered to Albus, "beat Hermione in the finals."

A flurry of commentary flew from the portraits mostly that of surprise, except from the four Founders and Albus; however, Minerva had moved up the stairs, her husband's eyes following her before she disappeared from view and having to answer any further questions.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie waited until Minerva disappeared into the bathroom, before apparating into Hermione's rooms; surprising the younger woman. Brown eyes eased at seeing who the intruder was, "Good afternoon, Bonnie. You gave a bit of a fright," she closed her book as she sat fully upright, concern instantly lacing her features, "is everything alright?" she questioned as a frown began lacing the elder elf's face.

"It seems there was a slight miscommunication between you and Minerva," Bonnie began walking towards her bedroom, "regarding dinner this evening."

Hermione stood, "Excuse me?"

Bonnie waved her hand, the torches springing to life; "Your dinner with Minerva this evening."

"I'm due in her rooms within a few minutes."

"That, you are." Bonnie opened the wardrobe's door.

"What are you doing?" Hermione went to close the door, but it remained steadfast as Bonnie cast a look back to her and then continued rifling through her dress robes and dresses. "Bonnie?"

Weathered fingers paused as golden eyes flickered to Hermione, "Dinner is not at Hogwarts."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as her mouth slackened, "What?"

"Rather the Witchery, followed by a show at the Mermaid Theatre."

"Mermaid Theatre…" Hermione breathlessly breathed as she repeated the impossible.

"For a show by Anúna," Bonnie returned to her previous task, "Michael has been asking for her to attend one for a year; and she thought it time to concede…at my urging." Bonnie added, "She needs some time away from Hogwarts to rest."

"With me?" Hermione swallowed, "Why not Rory or Helena or…her children?"

Bonnie withdrew a brick colored outfit, "Minerva asked you, as you are in need of a reprieve too after everything with your family." A gentleness laced yellow orbs, "Of which, you have my deepest sympathies regarding your mother." She extended the robes outward, "I'd suggest something of this caliber for the evening."

"Ahhh…" Hermione grasped the outfit, "thank you." She answered and then moved past Bonnie's comment regarding her mother, because for the moment, she didn't have time for it. "But what do you mean this caliber? And why would Minerva believe that I need dinner away from Hogwarts? If anything, she needs it more than I. Which of all people, you are acutely aware."

"Hence my urging." Bonnie carefully replied, "She believes it is to let you have night away, and while true; it also enables her an evening off – which she, like you, needs."

"Are you always so meddlesome?" Hermione inquired, finally glancing at the set of robes Bonnie had withdrawn.

"I'll be back in three minutes to take you to Minerva's rooms." Bonnie replied without answering and departed; leaving a sputtering Hermione in her wake. "Three minutes…" she muttered and then felt her stomach sink, "shit…" her eyes flashed to her reflection, "you've got to be kidding me."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva nodded to Bonnie, "If you don't mind seeing if Hermione is ready?"

"Of course," Bonnie relayed, "she should be, as she just needed a few minutes to finish up when I was there previously."

Minerva's response fell unto the silent room as Bonnie had already vanished, "Previously…" deft fingers finished fastening her cloak, as she waited and pondered precisely what Bonnie had meant. The seconds passed with agonizing slowness until a flash to the left and Bonnie reappeared, Hermione alongside. And her heart immediately skipped a beat at seeing the younger woman. She was wearing the tailored cloak she received at Christmas, it spread over her body as if molded to her skin; hair brushing along her shoulders as brown eyes met hers and she couldn't help but vaguely notice the soft shade of rose adorning her lips. "Good evening, Hermione." She permitted a hint of a smile to lace her face, "I see you've learned we are going out for dinner."

Hermione finally remembered to breathe, "With just enough time to adjust my evening's attire."

Minerva's brow imperceptibly rose as her eyes flickered to Bonnie whose gaze faltered, "The dinner was meant to be casual, merely away from the stress of Hogwarts." Green eyes finally returned to brown ones, "I hope you didn't overdress."

"Bonnie suggested something not based on my teaching robes, but of a casual nature."

Minerva bit back any further commentary regarding Bonnie's meddling, and reached over touching the silken material. "If you are ready?"

Hermione let her eyes travel to the gloved hand barely resting along her arm, "I thought you were going to have Bonnie or Elgin take us to the gates, so as to not strain your magic by adjusting the wards."

Minerva lifted a silver sickle with her left hand, "There are other means of transport, my dear." And with barely nod to Bonnie, a whispered word left refined lips and the women were swept from the Headmistress of Hogwarts office only to arrive in an ally cattycorner from the restaurant.

"Surely there are closer and far less expensive eateries for us to dine at this evening." Hermione began, however, Minerva was already moving ahead.

"Nonsense, the food is not costly; and it is oft times exceedingly well done."

"But it is nowhere near Bray…"

Minerva paused, weight resting upon her walking cane as she turned to Hermione; "True. And while going to the theatre is an option for the evening, it is one that I was going to inquire later if you were up to it; or myself for that matter."

"Minerva," she took a step closer, "I just...this is so extravagant, when a simple diner would be an ample respite for the evening; let alone going to a show too."

"Please," Minerva motioned to the restaurant, "let us merely enjoy our dinner. I have frequented the Witchery for decades and the appeal lies beyond the cuisine, rather the anonymity."

"Of late, the appeal of being momentarily invisible while amongst a crowd is something I can almost not recall." Her eyes flickered to the Witchery, easily remembering the first time they had gone and the anonymity surrounding them.

"Then, please join me for a quiet evening without Hogwarts or Johannes underfoot." Minerva reached out her hand, and thought for a moment that Hermione would not join her due to a moment of hesitation; but then Hermione's hand was resting atop hers, and a gentle smile spread across youthful features as they proceeded across the street - their hands remaining together until Hermione reached forward and opened the door.

Both women checked their clocks, Hermione noticing that Minerva manually undid the fasteners; and she couldn't help but marvel at how far the woman went to maintain a pretense as she slipped off her own cloak. "Thank you." She watched as Minerva gave her name to the host; and before she had an opportunity to inquire how long of a wait they had; they were being shown to a table.

"Bonnie made reservations." Minerva carefully stated as they made their way through the restaurant, before they were seated. She reached over and pulled the napkin from the plate, "How are you feeling this evening?"

"I'm sure, about on par with yourself."

"But I didn't duel this morning."

Hermione smoothed out her napkin, "No, but I didn't have two corridors fall upon me just three weeks ago, either."

Minerva let the retort roll off her, not rising to the bait. "And how are you this evening?" She tried again.

"While still tired, far better after lying down for an hour this afternoon. And yourself?"

"I too laid down for some time this afternoon," Minerva candidly replied.

"Good evening," a handsome young man stood beside the table, "my name is William and I shall be your server this evening." His eyes flickered between the two women, "Would either of you care for a glass of wine or something else?"

Minerva didn't bother picking up the wine list, "Would you rather a white or red this evening?"

"Actually," Hermione turned to the server, "If you have a bottle of the 07 Le Macchiole Paleo Rosso or the 06 Favia Cerro Sur."

"We have the Favia Cerro Sur, Madame."

"Please bring the bottle," Hermione relayed, noting an amused expression spreading across Minerva's face. "Unless you were wanting a white wine this evening?"

"Red will be fine," Minerva replied, "I didn't realize you were that versed in wines."

"My parents…" her voice caught, "love wine." She forced a smile upon her face, despite the tears pooling at the corner of her eyes, "It was a way to help bridge the gap between our lives as they would never truly understand what I do. And you? You are fairly knowledgeable in both red and white wines."

"My time between the war and Hogwarts."

Hermione discreetly wiped her left eye, "Now, now…I told you, surely this once; you can answer me directly."

"Ladies," William reached forward and took the glass, gently pouring first Hermione's and then Minerva's, "would you care for an appetizer?"

"Undoubtedly," Minerva answered, "however, if you could be so kind and give us a few minutes to peruse the menu."

"Of course," he stated while wiping the bottle and setting it upon the table.

Minerva took a hearty sip of her wine as William departed, leaving them once again alone; the comment hanging between them.

"Well…?" Hermione quipped causing a sparkle to emit from emerald eyes, "I'm waiting."

Minerva momentarily debated on whether to answer the younger woman, and from the expression on Hermione's face; it was apparent that her thought had been portrayed on her face. "I don't think that you'd find my youth as interesting as you believe it to be."

"Interesting or no, it doesn't nullify my curiosity."

"You know, curiosity is said to have killed the cat."

"That's why they are afforded nine lives."

A coy smile crossed regal features, "Touché."

Brown eyes narrowed, "Did you have an intense, sordid affair?"

"Sordid, no." Minerva finally conceded, not wishing to fence or obfuscate the whole of the evening with the beautiful woman opposite. If she was to enjoy the evening, then she would have to make a few accommodations; and as long as Hermione didn't steer too near her bonding – she was willing to be fairly and what some would say, uncharacteristically open this evening. "Affair, yes."

Unconsciously Hermione sat a bit straighter, "With who?"

"The American Ambassador for a few months until..." her thoughts drifted to a time from long before, and it was Hermione's gentle touch that brought the world back. "I realized it was futile."

"Why was it futile? Was he married?"

Minerva shook her head, "No," she quietly answered, deciding to forge ahead into territory that she hadn't delved in to since marrying Albus, "but my attraction to another was."

"Really?" Hermione stated with a hint of surprise before she could stop herself.

Minerva's brow rose imperceptibly, "Quite."

"Was it…Albus?"

"It was several years following the war before Albus and I healed our discord, and much to my chagrin I was rather…free regarding my lovers during that time."

Hermione noted the slight rosy hue lacing Minerva's cheeks, "There is no need to feel embarrassed."

A light chortle left her lips, "Not embarrassed, Hermione. I don't regret what I did, nor the relationships I had during that time; and I must say, that I had several. I was at a very different point in my life; young, restless, and so very much trying to move past a war that scarred all that it contacted."

"If you had numerous relations prior to the one you had with Albus, why haven't you had any since his passing?"

"At first…" she let her eyes fall to the partially filled glass, "I couldn't believe he was gone. Then Esmerele passed, the mess with Johannes, Voldemort, having to rebuild Hogwarts, and when I finally moved past it all; it never felt…right."

"What if…" Hermione fought her own nervousness as she dove ahead, "I was speaking with Helena, and she is bound to Harold; it stands to reason that if you could find someone…"

Minerva's eyes instantly jerked to Hermione's; the hue of her skin becoming two shades whiter as her stomach fell to the floor, and she found her mouth opening to interject – but for the moment no words were at her command.

"…I know it's a long shot, but perhaps you could and bind yourself to another. Helena was not keen on the notion, and I'm sure that you have your reservations but…"

"No." Minerva finally managed, voice coming out far raspier than she'd have liked, but she was no less thankful for the power of speech to once again be within her control.

Hermione didn't stop at the simple rebuttal, "…it'll afford you an opportunity to a much longer life."

"Absolutely, not." Minerva stated, steel lining her thick cadence.

Brown eyes scanned green ones, "Why? What is your aversion to becoming bound if it'll extend your life?"

"I will not hasten another's death," she clipped.

"You don't know for certain that their life will be shortened, perhaps becoming bound will nullify the curse that is killing you."

"It won't." Minerva honestly answered.

"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione questioned leaning forward.

"Just know that it is not an option."

"Minerva," Hermione began but was cut off by the woman opposite.

"If it were, I'd tell you. But it is not. Now please, let us not speak further of this, this evening."

She could see the turbulent emotions resting just beneath the surface and opted not to press this evening, "I didn't mean to push, I merely wanted to cite another option."

Her jaw flexed and she nodded, "I know."

"Then tell me of how you wish to capture Phillip?" Hermione asked, assured that the topic she just laid out was one that would move them past any awkwardness. Wanting to rewind the last five minutes of conversation, to once again be in the company of a relaxed Minerva McGonagall.

"With the element of surprise," Minerva finished the last of her glass and reached over pouring herself another hefty measure. "More?"

Hermione lifted her glass and finished the partial glass before extending outward, "Please."

"Are you familiar with voice activated port keys?"

"Aren't they all?"

"Unlike a traditional portkey that anyone can activate by knowing the correct word; these will only activate when the designated person's calls out the appropriate word."

Hermione's fingers brushed against Minerva's as she took back her glass, "How are you able to maintain the activation with the charm?"

"I don't know," Minerva set the bottle back down, "I've asked Harold to procure several that will activate by either of us using the word, now."

"Then Harold and Helena both know that we are going after Phillip?"

"Just Harold." Minerva corrected. "We spoke the night before last, after Helena went to bed."

"And he's getting you the portkeys via the department of mysteries?"

"I'd imagine."

"And where will their final destination be?"

"Somewhere within the Ministry, guards will be standing by to take the prisoners. There are four others with him, it is apparent that their purpose is to lure me or Harold into a trap."

"Then we won't be going alone?"

"I've always found it interesting to watch what happens when the trap is sprung," A devilish glint passed across emerald eyes, "especially if one knows of it and has time to plan for it. Because if there are too many persons, we will not succeed; they will be alerted to our presence before we can capture them."

Minutes passed by as Minerva explained her plan to Hermione; pausing in the middle to order a serving a bruschetta. Hermione questioned and Minerva continued on; her plan becoming morphed as Hermione added details and ideas augmenting it – until both women were satisfied with what they'd be partaking in in just a few hours, at the witching hour.

"To a rather apropos name," Hermione remarked, "don't you think?"

"One would say that the timing is serendipitous." Minerva agreed.

Realization sparked in brown eyes, "Was Harold's first item that he won earlier regarding tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, he asked that I promise to return home." Minerva answered without hesitation, "And then he went on to asking that I attend dinner next week with he and Helena."

"Why wouldn't you return?"

"He's worried that I'd do something fool heartedly while capturing Phillip, to ensure Helena's safety even if it was at my peril."

"Then I'm glad that he won, and he elicited that promise."

"And if you had won, what would you have asked for?"

Perhaps it was the way she asked, or that she was halfway through her second glass of wine, but she could feel her cheeks flushing under the intense emerald gaze. "Truthfully, I gave thought to asking you to join me for a weekend away from Hogwarts, because barring a miracle I doubt you'll take any time until after the mess with Johannes is over. One way or another. And you need the break, just as desperately as I."

Minerva didn't initially respond, her fingers deftly spun the glass within them. "It seems…that your request has partially come to fruition." She said finally glancing up, "While not a weekend, we are away from Hogwarts for the evening."

Hermione nodded, "That we are." She lifted her glass, ignoring the blush she was certain still laced her cheeks as a tender smile graced the plum shaded lips opposite her. "To an evening away from the mayhem."

"To an evening between friends." Minerva whispered as she touched their glasses together.

The bruschetta came, along with a second bottle, which William finished off the first by pouring the last remnants into their respective glasses. Their conversation shifted and began revolving around Hermione's father and how his recovery was progressing, and that he had been delayed from leaving St. Mungos for another three days. Minerva insisted that he would be welcome to use her home in Crete and that all the arrangements had been made; including those for her children to ensure they remained away from the growing threat, and that two elves would be seeing to their needs whilst there.

A gentle debate spread between them regarding the elves assistance, Hermione finally conceding that the elves were not ordered to assist her father. That those who were going had volunteered to assist but they were being paid.

"Then at least charge their wage to me until my father returns home."

"I'm afraid that is not possible, as Bonnie automatically draws my account for their pay."

"Have her draw mine."

"I'd rather not, so as not to cause any suspicion as to why there is being additional funds drawn bi-weekly from your Gringott's account."

"Surely Johannes wouldn't be able to know if I am committing bi-weekly draws upon my account."

"He has persons within the Auror department, it stands to reason he has someone within Gringotts too."

"Then how do you suggest I set up an account for my father while he is in Crete to buy food and other supplies?"

"I was going to route the expense through my properties and have Bonnie handle the logistics on how to get the food to Carl and the children."

"Must you think of everything?" Hermione retorted as she reached for the last piece of bruschetta.

"I haven't worked out how you and Ronald will see the children every weekend."

"That's easy, just bring them to Hogwarts every weekend and forgo them seeing their father." Hermione finished with far more adamancy than she intended causing green eyes to deepen with concern.

"Despite yours and Ronald's quarrel, do not let it adversely affect his relationship with the children."

Hermione's lips pinched as she tried to quell her comment, to no avail. "It isn't I, rather he, Minerva as you are acutely aware regarding his commitment to Rose and Hugo."

"It isn't that he doesn't love for them to come and visit him, Hermione; he is merely trying to ascertain how to fit into their lives."

"Well he's doing a piss poor job of whatever you call it." She downed the remainder of her glass, "And why are you defending him? He blamed you for placing them in harm's way."

"The first question I have, is whether you blame me?" Minerva countered, causing Hermione to momentarily stutter at the hundred and eighty degree turn.

"No," Hermione genuinely replied, tone innately becoming softer, "never. You care for them as though they are part of your family, and almost died protecting them along with me and my parents. And through yours and Harold's intervention, you've saved Molly and Arthur twice as well. Which brings me back to Ron? I was married to him for thirteen years, have two children by him, and I have reached my limit with his juvenile attitude, so I ask again; why do you defend him?"

"Because he is Rose and Hugo's father, and your previous husband; who still loves you." Minerva quietly continued, "And whom you still love, even if you aren't in love with him anymore. Though, he hopes that you are."

"Last month he asked me to come back, and I declined." Hermione admitted, "And since then, he is blaming you – anything and everything he can versus taking ownership and being who I thought he was."

"Who did you think he was?"

Hermione was saved from having to immediately answer as William came back to take their order; she opted for roasted duck and Minerva the filet mignon – their glasses refilled before he left them to continue their conversation which shifted to Ginny and her welfare. They both agreed that it was doubtful whether she'd be able to continue her quiddich career, but with luck she'd be able to regain her full mobility.

Slowly their conversation turned to Harry, initially how he was doing with Ginny in St. Mungos before morphing to his performance this morning at the duels. Initially Hermione was concerned at Minerva's reaction, in that she had started working with Harry; but her concern quickly gave way to laughter as Minerva had her relay some of their practices.

"…fell over." Hermione said between chuckles, "It reminded me…of the first time I tried it; God, that was a long day." She watched Minerva nod in agreement and begin speaking, vaguely aware of her response. Her mind was too busy cataloguing the way Minerva's words seemed to roll off plum lips in the most delectable way, and how after four glasses of wine there was a hint of rose flushing her skin augmenting how dark her hair truly was. "No," Hermione managed to answer, "they've been sporadic. But I chose to focus on the practical and theoretical piece." She briefly nodded as Minerva acknowledged hers and Harry's vastly different learning styles, she couldn't agree more and said so; while her mind remained riveted on what she was beginning to deem the essentials – the way her cadence changed causing her accent to deepen or lessen depending on the topic and the emotional investment.

However, much to her dismay, William brought their respective dinners and while they continued talking about Harry's tutorial; she wasn't able to _watch_ Minerva. Instead, she relegated herself to listening to her delectable voice while she began cutting the duck.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva rinsed her hands, pausing to glance at herself in the mirror; her right hand innately drifting up to the gentle laugh lines along her eyes – _what am I doing?_ She thought while shaking her head, Helena's words echoing in her consciousness; _You're going on a date?_ "Date implies opportunity," Minerva stated to her reflection, "which is not the case."

She shook her head, "Enough of this silliness," she muttered not willing to dwell on what couldn't be; and forced herself to merely focus on what was, "she's a good friend." She whispered to herself as her hand fell from her face, "Nothing more."

Though her gaze momentarily remained upon her reflection, and she forced herself to squelch her thoughts – because while she could never become what her heart was craving, she could help the woman she was falling in love with heal the divide with the father of her son and perhaps even find another to love.

With a resolve she didn't feel, she returned to soft lighting and a welcome sight. Hermione's gaze was momentarily diverted elsewhere, permitting Minerva a rare opportunity this evening to study the becoming woman. She had worn a deep red, long sleeved blouse with dark gray slacks and black boots; Minerva would have thought that color of red would clash with her reddish chestnut hair, instead it seemed to accent it.

"If you ordered another bottle, I believe we'll be remaining here versus going to the performance this evening."

Hermione's gaze instantly fell upon the elder witch, "Albeit tempting, I hoped you'd manage to arrange both." At seeing the beginning of a question, she explained further while standing, "Wine and a show."

Involuntarily Minerva's lips curled into a smile, "I've learned over the years, most things can be accomplished."

Hermione chuckled, "And wine at the performance?"

"Not insurmountable, but assuredly problematic."

"Your coats, Madame McGonagall." The host came around, handing them both their coats, "And will there be anything else this evening?"

"No, thank you. Have a pleasant evening." Minerva stated while slipping her cloak on, and her fingers deftly began fastening the buttons after wrapping her scarf about her neck. She glanced up to see Hermione waiting on her as she took her gloves from the pockets of her cloak, "Ready?" She inquired, heading towards the door.

Hermione followed, opening the door, "Would you like me to apparate us to Bray?"

Minerva stepped through, "Perhaps another time." She commented as the door closed, Hermione stepping beside her with a questioning look but it turned into a smile as black gloved fingers withdrew a gold galleon from the depths of her pocket and she motioned for them to keep walking; her arm slipping around Hermione's and then a whispered word fell upon the air and they both felt a tug upon their navels – the buildings shifted, and the distinct shape of the Mermaid Theatre came into view.

Hermione felt Minerva withdraw her arm, and felt a pang of loss; wishing she had kept it draped over within hers until they again checked their cloaks. "It's a lovely theatre."

Minerva waited for the car to pass by, before walking across the street, "The acoustics are good."

"Now, who are we seeing?"

"Anúna." Minerva replied as they joined other patrons heading towards the entryway, "They are an Irish choral ensemble."

Hermione took the offered ticket, "Between the Celtic Women and Anuna, are you sure you aren't Irish?" Hermione ribbed causing her smile to widen as Minerva's brow rose skywards.

"Ticket Ma'am." The worker stated, and Minerva didn't turn from mirth lined eyes while handing her ticket to the seated woman.

"Hardly," she replied, her accent unusually thick as if to illustrate her heritage, "though you won't find many world renowned Scottish vocalists."

"So we'll get bagpipes and drums?" Hermione quipped.

"If so, I'll ask that they leave the pipes and merely play the drums for you." She dryly retorted.

Hermione basked in Minerva's rare humor and easy manner, "Sounds enjoyable."

"Shall I ask Peeves to give you a preview; he does so love to play to a good beat."

"While enticing, I must remind you that he is not from Scotland either."

Minerva paused by the bar, "Would you like anything else?"

"Then we won't be having a bottle?"

"Doubtful."

"If they have a cabernet that would be great." Hermione replied and before she could blink Minerva had managed to arrive at the counter and was already being served. While waiting for her return, she removed her gloves and unfastened her cloak.

"I'm afraid you'll be drinking a merlot as their choices were not as verse as earlier." Minerva said while handing her a glass.

"Here…" Hermione took Minerva's too, "let me, so you can undo your cloak."

Minerva pulled her gloves off, and with feigned ease she unbuttoned her cloak as well; "Thank you." She stated while taking her glass back.

Hermione nodded, holding her plastic glass up, "To a good performance."

Minerva clinked her glass, "Of that, we can be certain. Michael is a very gifted artist."

"Then you've seen them before?"

"It's been some time, but yes." Minerva replied while taking a hearty sip.

"How long have you known Michael?"

"Years."

A brown brow arched, "That was definitive."

"I thought so." Minerva quipped causing Hermione's face to partially sour before her question cut through to Minerva's heart.

"Will there ever come a time that you won't evade when answering me?"

"My dear," her contralto thickening with emotion, "you are the one person of late that I rarely evade. In reference to Michael, I taught his sister at Hogwarts; he wished to be a wizard, however, he and his twin were blessed with another gift – that of music. You may know his sister, Janice Everett."

She couldn't stop her eyes from widening, she had worked with Janice for years. "Really?" Disbelief lacing her words, "She never mentioned that she had a brother."

"Two," Minerva corrected, "twins. And no, I doubt she does, as she married Anthony Evans and as such…"

"Doesn't speak of her muggle relations." Hermione whispered in understanding, as she knew Anthony Evans as a prior Death Eater.

"Unfortunately, that is true." Minerva could see a hint of emotion flare at the notion of having to hide her heritage. "Hence why I did not wish to speak of it this evening," she softly stated and with a gentleness rarely displayed in public, Minerva stretched out her hand and lightly ran it beneath Hermione's jaw to keep their gazes fixed. "Remember not all witches and wizards are as Anthony but one could only hope to be in as deep of love that Janice has for Anthony." Minerva's fingers slipped from the smooth skin, "Hence why she remains with him and not her family."

Hermione barely managed to force any words from her constricted throat, "But to lose her family…I cannot fathom loving a person who did not accept all of me – especially my family."

"Love causes people to do strange things." Minerva quietly remarked.

From the soft tenor of her voice, Hermione knew she was speaking from personal reference and probably regarding Aegis Black. "But to discount one's family…"

"Everyone is given a choice Hermione; it's what each person does that defines who they are." Minerva finished off the last of her merlot, eyes slipping past Hermione to track the additional volume of persons moving into the theatre.

Hermione preempted Minerva's comment, "We should probably move to our seats."

"It seems you've read my thoughts." Minerva said as she deposited her glass.

"Hardly," Hermione replied before finishing the last of her merlot and mirroring Minerva's action set the glass on the tray, and then completed her sentence. "though I'd wager if someone were able to read your thoughts, they'd be offered a hefty sum of galleons for what they learned."

"I daresay it would perhaps total to a handful of sickles." Minerva remarked as she stepped into the theatre and began making her way to the seats. She paused at the 5th row from the front and began edging her way to the middle; she could feel Hermione behind her and she couldn't help but relish the other witch's nearness. At the appropriate seat, she draped her coat over the back of her chair and sat down only a few seconds before Hermione joined her.

"You and I both know that isn't quite true." Hermione turned behind her and then looked around the rest of the theatre. "These are wonderful seats, Minerva."

"Thank you."

Hermione began perusing the program, looking for who 'Michael' was. Which she found almost immediately, "When you said Michael," she lifted the program and pointed to the picture of Michael McGlynn, "were you referring to him?"

Black brow arched as she scanned the paper, the briefest of nods accompanying her response, "Yes."

"Why am I not surprised?" Hermione muttered to herself as she continued skimming the biography about the man.

"When are you ever surprised?" Minerva quietly countered.

Brown eyes lifted ever so much to meet Minerva's steady gaze, "Rarely, but you seem to do so on a regular basis."

_As do you, _Minerva silently replied but let the moment pass, "We all have a gift at something."

Hermione felt herself drowning in the warm eyes as she lightly chuckled and forced her gaze back to the program lest she give herself away completely, "Are there any songs they are singing this evening that you recognize?"

Minerva carefully un-tucked her glasses and donned them for the first time of the evening as she flipped through the program, until she found the performance listing. "Several, but there are also several new ones that have been added to the play list; while most are not new songs, they are new to the performance."

"Do you have a favorite?" Hermione asked as the lights began to dim.

"I had one," Minerva answered, "but I shall see if it remains the same after the performance."

Hermione's voice dropped, "What was it?"

Minerva removed her glasses, as she whispered in response, "Dúlamán."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

It was far different from the private performance of the Celtic Women; in not only the energy but the choral range of the vocalists. The Celtic Women had a small musical orchestra, whereas the performers of Anúna sang with little musical additions. The songs quickly passing, one into the other; Michael speaking between most so as to give a brief history or anecdotal reference regarding the song about to be performed; and Hermione was swept away by their powerful performance and the company alongside.

* * *

Oxxo

* * *

The final strands of the haughting performance of Jerusalem stilled and Minerva felt a tear slip from her lashes as she closed her eyes and gently clapped along with the rest of the concert hall. Her thoughts, however were fixed in forgotten memories of gentle timbered voices echoing across the lochs and misty moors.

She vaguely heard the next chords of Ceann Dubh Dílis begin, and let the music waft over her battered soul. Thoughts of childhood, youth, hope…and love interspersed with Hermione's comforting presence; enabled her to finally relax from the long day and even longer weeks.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Both women were striding from the Mermaid Theatre side by side, "I really liked Ríu Ríu along with Dúlamán. You?"

"While Dúlamán is still a favorite, I was rather taken with Jerusalem this evening."

"I've never heard anything like that before. It was moving, and held an odd tenor that raised the hair on the base of my neck, but I wouldn't equate that as one of my favorites."

Minerva paused as at the curb as a car drove by, "It reminded me of my childhood," Minerva continued, "every Wednesday morning gentle strands of music would pass across the land, the same song sang at each person's own rhythm."

"Can you still hear it on Wednesday mornings at the Manor?"

Minerva stepped into the street, "I don't know, as I haven't been there on a Wednesday morning upon the grounds in decades."

"Perhaps Tenian would know?"

"Perhaps." Minerva withdrew a bronze knut, and held it before them both enabling Hermione to see it, "We have an early morning, are you ready to return to Hogwarts?"

Hermione _wanted_ to answer that she was not. That she wanted the evening to continue, that she wished to spend more time in Minerva's presence without anyone else around; but Minerva was right, they did have an early morning. And as much as she _wanted_ to remain, she knew that this evening – they couldn't. "Of course," she reached out and wrapped her hand around Minerva's arm. "And as you've brought a port key, it seems as though I won't be apparating us back."

"Then I shall impose upon your skills in the morning." Minerva's comment was stated with a gentle smile and then the world blurred and hook pulled upon their navel and they were standing in Minerva's living suite within Hogwarts.

Hermione grudgingly let go of Minerva's arm, "I had a wonderful evening."

"It was most relaxing." Minerva carefully responded, and despite wanting to prolong the evening – she said what she needed to say, as she needed to sleep before having to rise in just a scant few hours; Hermione needed to sleep too. "And I shall see you in the morning."

Hermione nodded and forced herself to turn, wanting to remain, to ask if Minerva was interested in having a cup of tea or perhaps play a game of chess; but knowing that she needed to wake in less than five hours – she drug herself through the door, each one feeling heavier than the one prior. "Have a good night."

Minerva glanced up and smiled at Hermione as she paused in unfastening of her cloak, "I bid you the same." She forced her gaze to lower and not to linger, but found herself lifting her eyes as soon as the door closed. As she was both thankful and disappointed that Hermione had left for the evening.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Hope you enjoyed!_

For those that asked, a tournament bracket was uploaded along w/ a picture by Dani; and at some point (unless one of you marvelously talented and computer persons can) I'll figure out how to post a link to Blondie's wondrous youtube videos and also Shoheen's pictures. The posting can be found at: asouldreams(dot)blogspot(dot)com


	96. Chapter 91 January 24th, 2010

**Chapter 91 ~ January 24****th****, 2010 (Sunday)**

Minerva's eyes went wide as the portkey activated and the dusty warehouse vanished and she was standing in a well-lite cordoned off location with twenty Aurors' wands leveled at her body.

Instantly her eyes flicked up, scanning the sea of faces as yells littered the area and several Aurors advanced towards her and the others who arrived with her for them to drop their wands.

"Gawain!" She yelled over the cacophony, and she felt a stunner strike her leg causing her weight to shift and knee to fall heavily into the marble. "Gawain!" She yelled again, wandlessly disbanding the forsaken spell as her heart pounded in her chest at who was here and who wasn't.

Several more Aurors moved to surround her when she had had enough, and cast a spell to enhance the volume of her voice, "GAWAIN!"

Everyone stopped and turned, to her.

The men who had been trying to leave whom she had captured were lifting their wands as they realized that she had accompanied them; while the Aurors stared at her and finally realized _who_ she was. A flurry of spells instantly swept towards her from the detainees and several protego charms fluttered between her and the spells; which she could care less about as she began heading towards the man in charge – the Aurors finally letting her through.

"What are you doing…"

The rest of Gawain's question was cut off, "The quickest exit?"

Gawain's face paled, "Minerva…what's wrong?"

"Now!" Minerva prompted, eyes flashing down both ends of the room and the doors upon either side.

"Through there." Gawian began to point but Angelina was already moving towards the door.

"This way –" She called out, not bothering to look behind her; knowing that the Headmistress was following; as was Harry.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione opened her mouth, words upon her lips for Minerva to watch out; but it was too late and she was already gone.

The portkey having activated and taking Minerva with most of the men and women into the bowels of the Ministry.

_Shit!_ She thought as Phillip and two others turned to her.

"That was awfully nice of you to drop by." Phillip crooned as he rolled the wand between his fingers, "We insist that you stay a while."

And Hermione jerked the first curse into the rafters while summoning the table to take another, "I'm rather keen on taking you back to Azkaban."

"Good luck." Phillip replied as he flung another curse at Hermione, who barely avoided the spell.

Hermione could feel the sweat running down her back as wet strands of hair whipped against the flesh of her face, and she let the numbing hex impact her calf – leg stumbling under her weight; but she remained focused and immobilized one of attackers, leaving Phillip and one other.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

By the time Angelina thrust open a door and grabbed some floo powder, Minerva's wand had already summoned the network; her knee throbbing as she called the Head of Hogwarts and within a heartbeat she was standing in her office.

Alone.

Neither Angelina or Harry had managed to join her; and as the fire roared again – obviously one if not both coming; Minerva didn't have time. Hermione's life was at stake. With a moan of pain, she pulled the wards to her; an uncharacteristic percussion rippling through the office causing several of the portraits to wince from the noise and Minerva was gone as Angelina rushed into the now empty office.

Her gaze swept across the room, and then stopped at Dumbledore's portrait. "Where is she?" she asked in a breathless voice.

"Who?" He cryptically answered.

"McGonagall. She came here, and there is no way she used the floo; so where is she?"

Salazar's voice cut across the murmurings, "Obviously not here."

"No shit," Angelina muttered, "but where the hell did she go?"

"The Headmistress left some time ago to assist in Phillip Renoir's apprehension." Everard stated and Angelina shook her head.

"Tell me something I don't know you blasted gallery!"

"Perhaps it is better for you to return to the Ministry and await the Headmistress there." Rowena calmly replied, "As we have no further information that would be assistive to you." And as one, the portraits shimmered and they were all gone.

"Damn!"

* * *

Xxoxo

* * *

Hermione dodged the binding hex, but she was too off balance to avoid the oncoming curse and felt bile at the back of her throat at what being struck would mean. As the cruciatus curse impacted her ribs a breathless cry left her lips as pain swept through chest and down the length of her body.

"Capture me?" Phillip taunted as he stood fully upright, head tipping to the side as he gazed down at the gasping woman. "Hardly." The other man laughed too, and Phillip leaned forward; "Tell me how you and McGonagall found me?"

Hermione went to spit out, hell no, between her gasps but the pain intensified as her body spasmed more.

"Now, now." Phillip remarked, "Surely you realize that I am not going to release this until I get what I want; as I'm _not_ Harkiss. I will leave you in this curse until your mind snaps; so as I ease this…remember that."

Hermione's jaw clamped down as she desperately tried to remember what Minerva had taught her…

Minerva.

The pain momentarily abating as her thoughts turned to the woman whose black hair was as dark as the night, and skin as milky as the moon…

Her fractured mind tried to recall the simple word that would ease the damnable pain and free her from the curse. Pain that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere; as though it pulsed from her soul and lived in her bones.

Instead she could only focus on the way rose lips curled into a smile or pinched when she was trying to hold back…then a word fell from her haven; and she found her mind grappling to hold onto the word.

Lib…

Er…

Io…

She tried to piece together, but it was uttered to slow and she almost lost hope but felt the intensity of the curse ease and she latched onto the word in a heartbeat – _liberio._

The spell washed over her skin and she could finally see through the tears as the world returned to focus.

"I'll only ask this once more," Phillip continued on, "how did you find me?"

Hermione noticed that her wand lay only centimeters from her fingers, and she chuckled. "Not happening."

"Ahhhh…" Phillip focused on the spell, and as she didn't move, his eyes grew larger.

"Surprise." She breathed, and fingers latched onto her wand blowing him backwards into the wall, before casting a protego charm between she and the olive green robed wizard.

A loud pop sounded to her left, and she glanced over her shoulder as she tried to scramble upward to see Minerva.

Her heart lifted, but fell as Minerva screamed.

"NO!"

Hermione turned back in time to deflect part of the curse that came from Phillip's wand; but only part.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva yelled as the rictasempra curse was about to impact Hermione. She watched as Hermione tried to deflect it; but knew it was too late as it collided with her spell and Hermione's body was blast backwards until a sickening thud sounded through the room.

For a moment, Minerva's mind stopped as she watched in horrifyingly slow motion Hermione's body slid down the wall – dark blood already staining her midnight blue robes. Her eyes widening as her wand clattered to the floor, hand coming upwards and Minerva was forced into action as Clyde sent a blasting curse at Hermione.

Quelling her fatigue, Minerva arced her wand and transfigured the curse into a thousand gardenias which showered over Hermione's body; but Minerva never saw one. Her entire focus was upon Clyde…and Phillip.

And with barely contained anger, emerald eyes blazed as her voice rumbled from restraint; "You shouldn't have gone after my friends, Phillip." Minerva said as she strode forward.

"She'll be dead in minutes, Minerva. Are you willing to risk her life for mine?"

"It won't take minutes," Minerva rotated her wand, voice hardening as was her resolve. Because to do what she had planned; would hurt, a lot. "Drop your wands and you will leave alive."

Phillip chortled, "You don't kill people."

"Traditionally that is true," her lips pursed and cadence thickened, "but for you I'm willing to make an exception." She watched Clyde swallow – hard. And with a flurry and a flick, a rustle jerked Clyde's attention and in another instant; his body was struck by a stunning spell. "Last chance." She stated wand out, voice and face devoid of emotion but her eyes were murderous.

Phillip didn't wait long, and he yelled in frustration at the meddlesome witch as he sent a flurry of curses at her. The first one collided with a stray, hastily summoned chair; the second one errantly struck the wall, and the third spun into a ball and then morphed into a plasma bolt that lunged back at Phillip.

Minerva didn't stop, drawing on her magic and ignored the way her fingers didn't want to move forward or the how her body wanted to pause and not cast another spell – because it wasn't an option; Hermione's life was hanging in the balance as was Helena's well being. And she pushed on.

She could see how he was deflecting the plasma ball, forearm and wand moving to the left; leaving his right side open and she sent a morphing jinx and a half breath second later a stunning spell.

Miraculously, he blocked both and she clenched her jaw as a burning rippled up her arm and she did what she knew she needed to do; casting a barrage of transfiguration spells at objects around the room and him. Until in a roar of Gaelic, she snapped her wrist and forced the rest of the spells to finish their transfigurations as pain ripped through her, wand falling from numb fingers as Phillip's body became entombed within amber – body frozen.

She let out a labored gasp, head turning upwards as the door opened and Craig rushed in – wand drawn out; features morphing into rage at seeing her and Minerva tried to summon her wand; but Craig had already summoned it to him.

"Tell me how to free Phillip!"

Minerva leaned back, a tired chuckle leaving her lips. "That shan't happen."

He lifted his wand and with a flick, a long gash appeared along her right cheekbone; "Now!"

"There are only a half dozen people in the world who can undo that spell, Craig. And not one will do it, if I'm dead."

He flicked his wand again, causing another welt on her other cheek, "We'll see…" But his body collapsed from a stunning spell erupting from behind him. Minerva's eyes jerked to the left to see muted brown ones barely coherent as blood spilled from Hermione's lips and her wand arm sank to the ground.

"Stay…with me, Hermione." Minerva unsteadily gripped onto the edge of a chair and pushed herself upwards. "Hermione…"

"Hurts…" Hermione breathed out, trying to focus on Minerva.

"I know." She replied, not able to stand and with force of will; pushed her body across the room until she was beside Hermione. "Let me see…" Minerva breathlessly stated as she peeled Hermione's hand away from blood soaked robes, and winced at the volume of blood already lost. "We need to get you to St. Mungos."

"…gwarts." Hermione murmured at seeing blackened fingers.

Minerva placed Hermione's hand back against the gushing wound, hers applying additional pressure atop. Tear filled eyes met Hermione's, and then Minerva leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon her clammy forehead. "Forgive me, my dear." Minerva whispered and Hermione couldn't respond as a deep burn erupted in her bones interspersed with the calming measure of Minerva's magic; before a soul shattering scream rung in her ears and the room wavered, magic drifting over her and then pulsing before everything became white and a hint of almond mixed with the overwhelming scent of blood as an additional weight settled across her chest.

Almost instantly she heard a rush of noise, and she blinked as the weight was removed – the blurry image of Minerva being lifted with charred hands and even her neck…as she realized they were within the walls of St. Mungos.

"…what…'ve you done…?" Hermione muttered as she felt her body being lifted too, and an oxygen mask being placed over her face as they began to cast diagnostic spells upon her. She tried to reach up to pull the mask down, to tell them that they needed to take Minerva to Hogwarts but her arm was restrained; and she pushed through the pain on her other side and removed the mask. "Get…'elena…"

"Her blood pressure is too high, we need to get her into trauma 3."

"'elena…"

"We have you." The healer absently stated as he continued with the team. "Ready a transfusion…"

Hermione reached up, grabbing the healer's hand. "Get…" she felt another measure of blood run down her cheek, "'elena. And send," she felt the world begin to lose focus, but forced the words from her throat as the memory of gentle lips touching her skin began taking her away from the myriad of pain. "Min…erva to 'ogwarts."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"You son of a bitch!" Helena snapped as she strode from the floo, eyes ablaze as she stared at her husband and his best friend.

"Ahh…" Gawain stood, "I'll leave…"

Blond hair whipped around, "Don't even think about it Gawain! As you knew of this too!"

Gawain didn't dispute whatever she thought he knew, he merely tried to back farther into the chair hoping that Helena would forget about his presence.

"How are Hermione and Minerva?" Harold asked, unfortunately knowing why his wife was beyond enraged.

"Don't even try!" She snapped, "How could you plan this with _her_ and not tell me?"

Her dodging the question was not a good sign, "We spoke three evenings prior regarding a possible location and a manor in which to capture Phillip. Now, I know neither have died, but I am concerned…"

"Concerned!" Her voice shrieked, cutting his off. "Concerned you say! You should have damn well been concerned three days ago."

Despite his best intentions, he could feel his own ire igniting. "Perhaps Minerva's mirrored my own at the time, regarding you."

"I'm not hanging on death's door! Dammit Harold, you know she is unwell; what in Merlin's beard would possess you to aid her!"

Harold turned to Gawain, "If you could give us the room."

Gawain stood, but Helena latched onto his arm. "Oh no, Harold." Her eyes latched onto her husband's, "He stays, as he is as involved in this as you! Half of the Ministry is here already, meaning that you both knew…"

The door opened and a tired looking Minister stepped in, "Harold…" he let his voice trail off at seeing Gawain and Helena; her knuckles white from the death grip upon Gawain's forearm. But it was the blood littering her robes that concerned him, "…are you alright, Helena?"

"Arthur, now might not be the best time." Harold stood.

And Helena outright laughed, "You haven't told him, have you." She said knowingly, blond brow arched as she glanced back at Arthur and then her husband. "Ohh," she let go of Gawain's arm, "please do tell…"

Gawain's jaw flinched, "How is she?"

A sea of blue met and waves of emotion rippled between them, "I told you before, and it hasn't changed since the last time I answered."

"Michael said she was badly burnt."

"Burnt…" Helena's jaw clenched as she tried to keep the tears at bay, "does not begin to describe how badly she was affected."

Harold stepped neared, voice softening; "How is she?"

Helena pushed him away, "She's in a coma!" Tears beginning to fall, "Are you happy now that I'm safe? Your collective plan has enabled me a measure of safety, but I very well may have lost my best friend! Damn you!" She screeched, "And damn her!"

Harold reached out, wrapping his arms around her; "But she's alive." He murmured into her hair and with a nod, Gawain moved and gently guided Arthur from Harold's office.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_"You cannot remain here." _

_ Minerva tiredly blinked open her eyes, hand immediately coming to head as she tried to bring the world into focus despite the blinding headache. "I know not…" she heard a moan and on some point realized that it was from her as she sat upright, "where I am."_

_ Blue glowing eyes drifted just beyond her reach, "Within."_

_ Minerva's retort died upon her lips as the ache along the right side of her head dissipated, "Hogwarts." She stated simply as the androgynous shape came into focus. "If I am here," she lifted her hands, "then where is Albus?"_

_ "How curious." Hogwarts stated kneeling closer and tipping its head. "After almost dying to protect the woman, you still cling to the man who exists beyond."_

_ Minerva's lips pinched, "As I've already stated I am bound to he, as he is to me; which you are acutely aware of."_

_ Hogwarts leaned closer, "Then how can you be she?"_

_ "She, who?" Minerva asked feeling a wave of trepidation dance along her skin at his obscure reference._

_ Eyes scanned her face, and then gently a hand stretched outward and touched the marred hair, "There has been no other, but the question still remains."_

_ Minerva reached out, stilling the gentle movement. "You are speaking in riddles."_

_ "Ah, but to speak plainly would alter that which must be." A kind smile passed across the unearthly face, "Either way, you must leave – " arms lifted outward, "here."_

_ "At least tell me where here is?" Minerva countered._

_ "Within your mind."_

_ "If that is so, then how are you here?"_

_ "The more pertinent question is why are you?"_

_ Emerald eyes narrowed, "If you can be here, Albus can as well; so why is he not?"_

_ A rich laugh danced outward, "Alas, we have come full circle; but still no further to obtaining that which either of us seek." Hogwarts rocked backwards, "Once you leave here, the man shall return; but I ask that you answer one question before you do."_

_ "Only if you tell me where we truly are."  
_

_ "The vast in between, but instead of you drifting towards the man you are forever bound to; I momentarily interceded to speak with you – without his presence."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because I would like an answer without his influence."_

_ Minerva reigned in her temper, "He would not influence my answer."_

_ "In this instance, I am assured he would."_

_ "What would make you think that?"_

_ "He loves you and is bound to you." _

_ "And I am to him."_

_ "But is it not true that you do indeed love," the blue-hued face shimmered until Minerva was staring at a Hermione's face, "her?"  
_

_ Minerva could feel her jaw clench as her nostrils flared, the shame of her growing feelings almost as suffocating as acknowledging them. "You know that my feelings regarding her continue to evolve."_

_ "Evolve." Hermione's face repeated._

_ "Is that your question?" Minerva bristled._

_ Hermione's face melted into the nondescript one of Hogwarts, "You did not answer the initial part of my query."_

_ "If you must hear the word, then yes; I do believe I am falling in love with her. But I shall not act upon it, nor is there a future with her as I'll be dead within months or in all likelihood, less."_

_ "When you die, will you nullify your bond with Albus or remain bound to him and return to her in the next lifetime?"_

_ Unlike before when asked the question, she hesitated a brief moment before her clear contralto rang outward, "I'll remain bound to Albus."_

_ "However, a part of you wishes to explore the feelings you have for her?"_

_ Minerva sighed, the harrowing truth spilling from her lips. "Yes." She quietly admitted, "But wishing does not make it so. Nor does it annul the commitment I made to my husband."_

_ Seconds ticked by in silence, Minerva unwilling to comment farther – ashamed at her admittance; Hogwarts pondering her statement in conjunction with its assumption. Until Hogwarts edged a hair's breadth closer, having come to a conclusion. Its words barely loud enough to be construed a whisper, "When the time comes and your body is wreathed in fire; know that I will be here, waiting for you."_

_ A deep Scottish lilt danced between them, despondence lacing her words. "As will my husband, as I'll be dead."_

_ "Yes." It harrowingly replied, "You will be."_

* * *

_Xoxo_

* * *

Kane stared at the block of amber, "I won't."

Gawain's features twisted in disbelief, "Craig said that there were six others besides the Headmistress who could counter this spell. As you were once her apprentice, I am certain that you know how."

Coal eyes flashed, "I never said that I couldn't; rather that I wouldn't." Dexterous fingers ran along the sculpted edges, "Nor will the others who can."

"Why?" Arthur asked stepping forward from the shadows.

Kane's head snapped around, hair flying along his shoulder as his sculpted jaw flexed and his dark brow rose, "The same reason you'd prefer not to, Minister. At least not until you are sure, Harkiss is stopped. And when _you_ are sure, then I shall release him. And not a moment before."

"Then he is alive?" Gawain asked.

"I believe he is petrified, but alive." Kane answered.

Arthur carefully interjected, "While I appreciate your ideals, we need to know what he does if we are to catch Johannes."

"And what of the other seven captured?"

"Unhelpful." Arthur stated, "We need him to learn of Harkiss' inner circle and how to stop him."

Coal eyes snapped to the man ensconced within an amber prison and back, "If I release him, what assurances do I have that he will not escape again?"

Gawain stepped forward, "I'll assign an auror team to watch him in conjunction with Azkaban's detail."

"Not good enough."

"Why the hesitancy?"

"Because," Helena strode into the chamber, causing the three men to turn to her, "it's a transfiguration master's prison that is only invoked when there are no other options; and only an upper level master is capable of countering it. And if one is cast…"

"No other master will counter it without the master's blessing who cast it." Kane finished as he stepped towards an ashen Helena Harrison, "And how is it that you know?"

"As Minerva's equivalent in the healing field, it is my job to know." Her eyes slipped past Kane to the man who had caused more than one sleepless night, "I won't counter it, Gawain." She finally stated, "I can't." She stepped around Kane, "He almost took my life." Tears blurring her vision, "Harold's. Hermione's. Minerva's and who knows how many he _did_ take before he was stopped." She reached out, fingers grazing the surface, head shaking as a quaky voice left trembling lips. "And the cost…of what it took for her to put him in this." She cleared her throat and turned around, steel lacing her words and fire burning from the depths of her eyes, "So, no I won't do it unless you are asking me to release him only to be given the Dementor's kiss."

"We need him to find Johannes." Gawain countered.

"No." Helena repeated.

"Love, we must." Harold entered the chamber, "Or it is for naught."

"After everything she did…"

"He's captured, not killed." Harold spouted, "Granting us an opportunity to obtain knowledge as to Johannes' whereabouts and a chance to stop him once and for all."

"Harold if he escapes…"

Blue eyes pleaded with his wife's, "Don't let fear rule us."

Kane reached out, placing his hand atop Helena's. "Harold's right, but know that if he does escape again – " his voice paused to ensure that the elder witch believed the sincerity of his pledge, "I will find him. And kill him."

Ever so slowly, Helena nodded and as one both she and Kane turned to the block of amber; their wands working in symmetry as they gradually began undoing the spell. Sheets of amber falling from Phillip's body until his hair, and then face was exposed and a loud gasp left his lips – and both witch and wizard stopped. Kane turning to Gawain as sweat dripped from his face, "Ask your questions."

"I thought you were going to release him."

"He is." Kane stated breathlessly. "When you are done, I'll finish."

Arthur didn't waste any time, "Where is Johannes?"

Phillip blinked as he gasped again, trying to understand where he was and why he couldn't move. "What…have you done?"

"You are entombed in amber, and shall remain until you answer the Minister's questions." Harold stated stepping forward.

Phillip spat at the man, "I will have your wife!"

Gawain clutched Harold's arm, "Where is Johannes?"

A maniacal laugh left his lips, "In hell, where you will all soon be." He stopped laughing as his gaze landed upon the noted healer, "Except for you, well…at least until I'm done with…"

His sentence went unfinished as his body went slack, a red stunning spell having struck him from behind. "We'll find what we need another way." Arthur stated while lowering his wand, "It is apparent he won't or is unable to betray Johannes."

Kane lifted his wand, "Then if there are no objections, I'd prefer to return him to his previous state."

"If you mean encased in amber, then yes. What can I do to assist?"

Kane's lip curled into an impish grin, "You are one of the most skilled wizards I have ever met, Harold; but this one time, I don't think you can as it is based in transfiguration." He lifted his wand, and then slowly lowered them again before turning to Helena.

"If you would be so kind as to counteract the stunning spell?"

Helena drew her eyes up to Kane's and there was a long pause while they stared at each other, both fully aware of what that would mean to Phillip for the interim; minutes, hours, years and perhaps decades aware that time has passed. Finally Helena nodded and raised her wand and with a flick of her wrist, Phillip was lifting his head only to have Kane begin maneuvering his wand in an elegant configuration as muted words left his lips and the amber began crystallizing around Phillip's head and then in a yellow flash Phillip was again ensconced in amber and Kane fell to the ground, spent.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

She pushed the healer away as she tried to stand up, again. "I'm fine."

"You may feel fine, but you aren't ma'am." The healer placed her hand upon Hermione's shoulder, "Please let me get the healer in charge." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but the healer shook her head. "Please, Miss Granger."

Hermione paused in her movement at the worry lacing the healer's voice, "Fine, I'll wait until I see the healer."

Relief passed over the healer's face, "I'll be right back."

And Hermione eased back into the bed, a moan slipping from her lips. "Take your time," she breathed to no one as she tried to ignore the way her whole body ached; mind trying to move past the throbbing pain that enveloped her side.

"You were lucky, you know that?" Michael's clear voice ringing in the room.

Hermione barely picked up her head, not willing to move; the pain momentarily gone. "Good to see you too."

"Do you have any idea how close you came to dying this morning?"

"I have a fair idea," Hermione replied as she turned her head, "my chest still feels as though it was cleaved apart."

"If you hadn't deflected the spell, it would have cleaved you in two. We had to reattach the muscles along your second and third rib, regrow the bone, and repair the stress fractures along your spine from what I gather was the effect of a cruciatus curse."

"So I'll be fine in the morning and am free to leave." She quipped.

"If I release you, it'll be under Poppy's care; and you must remain at Hogwarts for the next week and no classes tomorrow. Understood?"

Hermione winced while sitting upright, "Yeah. Though I have to wonder why you are going ahead and releasing me when the healer previously in here was adamant about me staying."

Michael handed her a pile of clothing, "Helena instructed me to release you."

"She did?"

"And she asked that I relay that Minerva is in coma."

Hermione fought down a wave of panic regarding Minerva's condition, "You're sure?"

"Helena was clear on the diagnosis."

"Is she at Hogwarts?" Hermione swung her legs off the bed and grabbed at the pants, eyes fluttering close at the pain.

"Here…" Michael stated walking around the bed to assist her, "let me help." He took the pants and bent over to ease her feet through the legs. "Now up you go."

"Why are you helping me, again?" Hermione asked through a whimper, a cold sweat breaking across her brow.

"She said to get you out of St. Mungos if you were able and willing, and back to Hogwarts." His answer coming out in a rush as he helped her balance, "And when I asked her why, she said it was in the patient's best interests. Mind explaining what she means?"

"My children are staying with me until I can set up other arrangements."

Michael nodded but it was clear that he didn't fully believe her, "You won't be able to pick them up for several weeks."

Hermione muttered an affirmative as she slipped the hospital gown off and painfully pulled on a t-shirt. Several minutes later, with Michael's assistance, she was standing before the floo network and calling out her destination.

The flames flashed green and with a suppressed whimper she stepped into the grate and out into Minerva's office; the distinct scent of ginger and spice blanketing the air. Her eyes flashed to the pearl clock, it was just after seven in the evening as she noted that the flecks of green had shifted again and appeared to have become still smaller as had the blue.

Innately she turned to the vast gallery, "Is she upstairs?"

Godric's image shifted to a lower portrait, "She is. And how are you?"

"I've been better," she admitted, right hand wrapped around her ribs. "Are the children well?"

"Both the Gryffindors and your own are fine." Rowena answered before Godric had an opportunity, and while Hermione found it odd; her mind was too distracted to pay it any more heed.

Hermione set her small bag beside the desk, removing only her wand before gingerly making her way up the brass staircase. Each stair feeling as though she were climbing the steps of the Eiffel Tower; that by the time she reached the top, she was exhausted and surprised.

She had expected to see Minerva's family sitting around her living suite, but it was empty save for what could only be construed as a cold cup of tea along with the latest Transfiguration journal resting upon the coffee table that she had been reading upon her arrival at just before four this morning.

Shaking the thought, she carefully moved towards Minerva's bedroom; and with a wave of anxiety she reached forward and turned the knob. And felt a smile pass across her face at the most welcome sight of Helena sitting beside an awake Minerva. "Hey," she said leaning upon the door jam, "thought you were in a coma."

Both women lifted their gazes, smiles adorning both their faces; "And you were to be in St. Mungos." Minerva remarked.

"I was feeling so good, that I thought I'd make a break for it." Hermione playfully remarked, eyes remaining riveted upon Minerva; the way her smile broadened, eyes sparkled into a deeper shade of emerald. And she found her voice betraying her thoughts aloud, "I almost lost you…"

The words suddenly sounded distant, muted, as if being spoken through water. She spun her head around, hand upon her wand as panic flooded her veins and she dropped to one knee only to see the room still empty. Wand still gripped within her hand, she stood and turned back to see only Minerva and she was heading towards her.

"Where's Helena?"

"Probably already back to St. Mungos." Minerva said as concern filled green orbs. "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded while dropping her wand, "Yeah, but that was a little too close." She whispered while stepping nearer to Minerva.

Long fingers reached across her jaw, "Yes, it was." Minerva breathed as she too stepped closer; causing Hermione's eyes to flutter close at the gentle touch that seemed to beckon her ever nearer until she could feel the moist, heated breath touching her lips…and she opened her eyes…

To see pearly white walls…

She blinked again, and a sea of faces swam into view as muted voices rang across the air; and she tried to reach out to feel _her_; but instead her hand was entwined with a larger one…and she rocked her head as she forced heavy eyes open again. Harry's concerned face blurrily within reach, "W…ere's…" she licked her lips as she tried to focus, "Min…erva?" She breathed out as she felt fingers tighten upon her own.

"At Hogwarts." Harry replied and Hermione felt as though she nodded as she answered, but her mind was already trying to return to the alluring thought of Minerva leaning nearer until their breaths intermingled and those soft lips gently touched her own.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The last evening rays of light sprinkled into Milan's office as her hand once again ran over the moving picture, tracing the blackened flesh. "What happened to you?" She whispered aloud as tears pressed against her eyes as she easily recalled the four testimonials from by-standers coming and going from St. Mungos; as there had of course been no comment issued from the prestigious institution regarding Minerva.

All four stories mirrored the others, which was itself, no small feat – but it was the content that worried Milan and not the synergies. Because, from their statements, she had been completely unresponsive. Two healers had to lift her and upon doing so they could see that her hands looked to have the flesh burned from her bone and even the area about her neck was singed.

And for the first time she began to realize that the woman who was so much more than any would know or believe may actually die.

Her heart stopped.

As did any doubt regarding whether to print or hold the story. Because while the world needed to realize what lengths the woman went through to protect them; she would keep her promise to Minerva. If Minerva could endure _that_ to keep people safe, then she would keep her secrets.

It was the least she could do.

And with one more glance to the horrifying photo, she whispered a spell and it along with the testimonials were bathed in fire; wishing the fire could replace the image that had forever been burnt into her mind.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena had told her children and everyone else that Minerva was recovering and would be up to visitors in a day perhaps two. But as Filius quietly crossed the room, his heart sunk as he approached her bedroom door. Because she had been lying, grandly. Only he, Poppy, Helena, Harold and Gawain were aware of the gravity of Minerva's condition.

She was still in a coma.

With an absent wave, he opened the door and stared into the tired visage of the Hogwart's matron. "Any change?" he asked while levitating his body.

Helena's voice immediately drew his attention, "None." She answered glancing up to him from what appeared to be a medical chart over the edge of her frames. "Brain activity is still very weak."

"Were you able to ascertain how long the gap was between her arriving at St. Mungos before being brought here?"

Poppy interjected, "Dily's was able to determine from the other portraits that the time was close to forty minutes. But what I don't understand is why she went to St. Mungos versus coming to Hogwarts."

Filius and Helena's gaze remained upon the other for a moment, golden and blue eyes measuring what or if the other knew something before turning to Poppy simultaneously. Helena's voice strangely soft, "Hermione wouldn't have survived."

"And her other vitals? Magic?"

"Vitals are solid," Poppy answered, "but I haven't been able to even register any of her magic."

"Nor have I."

"Do you believe it is correlated to her being in a coma?"

Helena and Poppy shared a nod before Helena replied, "There has never been a documented case where a person's magical signature won't register while in a coma. And no, Filius, I can't predict how long she'll remain in it. Or if, she'll ever wake up."

Poppy stood, gaze fixed upon Filius. "Do you mind staying for a while?"

"Neither of you need to stay, I will." Helena interjected.

But Filius nodded, knowing the reason why Poppy asked had little to do with Minerva's welfare and wholly to do with Helena's. "I had planned to."

Poppy let her fingers trail over his shoulder and with a nod to the Deputy and St. Mungos Administrator; she slipped from the room.

"And where is Harold?"

Helena's jaw rippled, "At the Ministry," she curtly stated as her eyes fell back to the chart in her hand.

"Then he won't be coming here this evening?" Filius surmised while floating over to the chair.

Glacial blue eyes snapped back to his, "No."

Filius inwardly sighed, _it was going to be a long night_.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed!_


	97. Chapter 92 January 29th, 2010

**Chapter 92 ~ January 29****th****, 2010 (Friday)**

"I don't think that this is wise." Harold snapped.

"I don't give a damn!" Helena said rounding on her husband, "Just like you didn't regarding my thoughts last week."

"That is **not** true!" He rebuked, "And I refuse to have you think otherwise!"

"You are going to stand there," Helena's voice rising in pitch, "and say that you and Minerva didn't plot on how to capture Phillip purposefully getting me drunk so as to keep me in the dark?"

"You already know the answer, so stop berating me for…"

"Berating you! I haven't even begun…" Her voice dropped to a deathly low rumble, "to berate you for what you did."

"I'd have thought after a week of trading barbs you'd have gotten it out of your system."

"Yes, we have and I don't foresee that changing any time soon." Came her chilling reply.

"Dammit, Helena!" He roared, "Last weekend has **nothing** to do with this evening! And you are talking about _**her**_life!"

"You don't think I, of all people, don't know that!"

"You aren't acting like it!"

"She loves her!" Helena screamed back.

And with every ounce of self-restraint, Harold replied in a calm voice. "And is bound to Albus."

"Don't, Harold!"

"She is," he continued on, "and will remain bound to him until she draws her final breath. It doesn't matter how much she loves Hermione," he cautiously reached out to his wife, "she won't betray Albus." His voice dropping as Helena's ire began to dissipate, "No matter how much you want her to be happy."

"You're right," Helena's cadence holding a hint of dejection, but her features slowly became resolute, "but I want you to invite her anyway."

"Helena," Harold's hand fell away from his wife's arm, as a warning note rang in the air.

"I get it." She said, blond hair brushing across her shoulder, "I do. But you don't get what I'm saying."

"Then say what you mean, and stop speaking in riddles."

Helena paused in the doorway to their kitchen, voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you do so like mysteries."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva grabbed her cloak as she replied to his question, "She was released today."

Albus sagely nodded, feeling his wife's emotional upheaval regarding leaving this evening, "Will you be able to see her before joining Harold and Helena?"

"I haven't the time," she clipped in response.

"Nor have you made the time this week to see her, despite wanting to."

"Albus," her voice held a warning to it, "let it be."

"Minerva…"

"Don't." She brokenly whispered by the door. "I'm barely managing." Emerald eyes pleaded across the expanse, their bond gently rippling, as she inwardly begged him to let it go.

"Then don't go this evening, as you are still…unbalanced."

A mix of a laugh and cry left her lips, "If it were anyone else, I wouldn't. But, it's not. And, I need to push on with what little time remains."

"They will understand if you post pone for a week."

"I don't have many weeks to post pone it to."

A flutter of doom echoed between them, "Love, there is enough time."

"Not anymore," she whispered as she turned and deft fingers palmed her walking cane; the distinct clicking pinging just off beat to her rhythmic steps; leaving behind a wake of melancholy.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Long fingers sunk into the floo powder as her husband's words reverberated in her mind,

_You have time…_and she felt the pressure behind her eyes increase, because that was one thing in conjunction with her magic, she no longer had.

To say her prognosis was grim was being kind.

She had weeks to perchance two months left, if she used absolutely no magic.

None.

Not that she wanted to, after trying a modest summoning spell on Wednesday. It had caused burns up her arms, and the nausea following had been worse than the burns. She could still feel Hogwarts, the wards realigning, the thrum of magic contained within the hallowed halls, and her own along with the final strands of Albus' at her disposal – but while she could still use and had a hint of magic left, her body's visceral reaction and final consequences were just not worth it.

"Minerva…" Severus' unusually kind voice interjected her thoughts, "are you well?"

Her gaze immediately snapped to his portrait, and with a nod she snapped her wrist. "I'll be late this evening, I'm having dinner with Helena and Harold."

And without a further word, she stepped from her office and out into pub, La Dana. She bid Jacques good evening and exchanged a few niceties before striding from the quaint pub and into the streets of Nantes, France.

It had been a long time since they had gone to Nantes, or more precisely La Cigale. Thankfully the air was cold on her cheeks, and biting on her skin helping to stymie morose thoughts as her long gait brought her ever closer to her destination. Because, the last time they had been there was just over fifteen years ago for her and Helena's annual celebratory dinner.

The familiar canopy came into view, defying the stark winter weather and with a few more steps she was striding through the door and momentarily swept away by memories.

"Madame," Minerva blinked away the rubble and partially closed restaurant from Grindlewald's days, to the last time she had come here alongside Albus, to now – where she was in the twilight of her life and alone. She let the host ramble for a moment before stating that she was joining a party under the name Harrison.

"_They arrived just a few minutes prior. If you will follow me." _He motioned into the restaurant.

Minerva had already removed her gloves and unfastened the top part of her cloak. Her eyes easily adjusted to the lower lightening as they wove through the guests.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"Again, it was not necessary." Hermione reiterated, still moderately surprised for the peculiar invite this evening from the Harrisons.

"It's the least we can do, after helping Minerva and almost getting yourself killed." Helena genuinely replied as her eyes noted her friend's arrival. She looked beautiful, as Helena knew she would. And she was interested in Hermione's reaction as Minerva drew closer.

Harold began to stand, Hermione turn and Helena watched.

Shock displayed upon both of the women's features at seeing _who_ else would be joining them this evening. Minerva's eyes had widened, pupils dilated and then her stoic features snapped into place as a gentle smile adorned her lips. And as her eyes dropped to Hermione, she could see a warmth fill brown orbs and rounded features, and dare she believe a hint of something more?

"Hermione, a pleasant surprise." Minerva stated and tipped her head to the other two in respect, "Harold, Helena."

"How are you?" Hermione asked as Minerva handed her cloak to the host before sitting beside her.

"Moving a little slower." Minerva replied drawing a smile from Harold and Helena, "And yourself?"

"The same," Hermione said with a hint of humor, "but thankful that I was released from St. Mungos." She turned back to Helena, "Not that I don't enjoy visiting your prestigious institution, but I much prefer the role as a visitor and not as a patient."

"Too true." Harold commented and then cleared his throat, "We thought it fitting to ask Hermione this evening after she almost died last week too trying to capture Phillip."

"Quite." Minerva succinctly said, thereby indicating to her two longtime friends that she understood their reasoning and was moving on – face portraying that she was here to merely enjoy the evening.

"Let me be clear on one front," Helena shifted drawing Minerva's full gaze, "I am still exceedingly unhappy at both you," her eyes pinned Minerva, "and Harold."

Minerva shared a look with Harold and she inwardly cringed; easily able to see the stress their actions had caused to their marriage. "Helena…"

"I'm not finished." Helena clipped and she watched Minerva bite back her comment with a small measure of satisfaction, "What you both did was reckless, and exceedingly selfish." Her voice cracked, "And if things were different Minerva, I'd not be here this evening."

Hermione inwardly winced from the stilted dialogue between Helena and Minerva, easily deducing that Minerva's most recent venture – like her, did not go well as the conversation between the two women continued.

Minerva reached across the table, grabbing Helena's hand. "Well I certainly am glad you came." She squeezed Helena's fingers, "And do not continue to be too hard on Harold, dear; as I would have gone after Phillip with or without his help."

"I don't believe you would have waded in, without support…" she tried to counter, but like moments earlier; this time, Minerva's lilt brokered no room for argument.

"I knew Phillip's location before I had drinks with the both of you last Thursday." Minerva interjected, eyes holding Helena's; but peripherally noticing the slight shock upon Hermione's face. "So, know that I waited for a mechanism to capture Phillip and the persons with him, and your husband provided that. I am many things, Helena, though rarely reckless without reason." Her voice dropped, steady contralto rippling across the table, "And no matter what you believe, I need you to understand that with or without any support or aid I would have stopped Phillip."

"But Merlin the cost…" Helena's soft tone giving way to the tears.

"It was no cost versus the alternative, my dearest friend living in fear."

Harold had noted Hermione's interest at his wife and Minerva's dialogue, and also where the course of the present conversation would lead, "I have to say, an amber prison." He reached out taking his wine glass, "Is rather fitting."

Helena squeezed Minerva's hand and sat up, taking her own glass, "Yes it is."

Hermione lifted her glass, "From what Harry stated, he was encased in a solid block of amber."

"He is." Helena succinctly stated and Hermione opted to curtail her questions, adding that piece of information to the litany of items she was in need of having time to research.

"I propose," Harold moved his arm towards the center, "a more apropos toast." He watched as Minerva's fingers gently took the wine goblet, and from her careful movements could only imagine how she was truly feeling this evening. And almost didn't want to know, lest Helena discover and his penance was lengthened not by years, but what would feel like nothing short of decades. While they had both been at Hogwarts on Monday, and assisted Minerva, she had asked that they not return unless it was for a visit by late evening and that she would be fine. She had sent word daily through Dily's to Helena that she was progressing and that neither had any reason to worry, her magic had buoyed and she was feeling better by the day. However, from the paler of her skin, the dark circles partially masked, he knew Minerva was operating on will alone and still was not well. "To friends."

Helena touched her glass to Minerva's as she said, "Best friends."

Minerva echoed Helena's sentiment, as Hermione whispered Harold's toast; the four glasses clinking before each took a sip. Minerva the first to speak, "Has Gawain gleaned any new insight from those captured last week?"

"Douglass along with Andre and Aegis are principles in Johannes' ranks." Harold replied setting his glass down.

"If that is so, can we really trust Aegis?" Hermione questioned.

Harold's jaw tightened, as did Helena's, but it was Minerva who answered. "In regards to stopping Johannes, yes."

Hermione could have cut the sudden tension in the air with a knife, it was obvious that there was a history with the Harrisons and Aegis that went well beyond Minerva. "And past that?"

"Rory and I…" Harold began but Minerva interjected.

"Past that, is not our focus."

Helena could see the lack of understanding and sighed, "He was one of Death Eaters who almost killed Harold and Jordan the night the Potters' were slain." She gave Minerva a poignant look before returning her gaze back to Hermione, "So, placing any trust in Aegis, has been a contentious point with not only Rory but Harold and I as well."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, "Then why place any faith in him?"

"Because," Harold's voice immediately drew the table's eyes, "Minerva asked it of us, a détente as it were between Aegis, us and Rory until Johannes was stopped."

"What if," there was a strain in Hermione's voice as she looked to Minerva, "you're wrong?"

"As much as it pains me to say it," Helena breathed deeply, "she isn't. Aegis is the one who ensured that Lucius donated blood to sustain Minerva after the corridor incident and warned us regarding another pending attack."

"However, it doesn't mean that I am not concerned that he may betray me or any one of you or the Order." Minerva admitted.

"Do you think he will?"

"Not while I'm alive." Minerva honestly answered, "However, I doubt the détente will last if I die before Johannes is caught." Hermione's face blanched as did Helena's, Harold seemed unfazed by the statement as she finished, "And I'd suggest proceeding with caution regarding information coming from Aegis at that juncture."

"How can you say that so, detached?" Hermione finally asked, voice still an octave higher from her shock.

Green eyes didn't blink nor did she let an ounce of emotion leech past her wavering walls as her clear contralto rang outward as if she were merely teaching another transfiguration lesson to third years; because despite wanting to break down, to indicate that her world was falling apart all around her, that she was only able to utter what she had to because in a month's time it would no longer be theory but fact – she couldn't. Not to Hermione. And with every last breadth of willpower she kept her resolve and maintained her stoicism while she answered, "We almost died last weekend, and there is a very real likelihood that a time will come when I shan't be so fortunate." She paused to indicate the importance of what she was about to relay, "And I'd much prefer that my dearest friends won't be blindsided and ultimately hurt or worse yet killed because they did not take appropriate precautions."

Harold could feel Helena's worry flutter, and he inwardly bemoaned giving into his wife and inviting Hermione; especially with what was transpiring before their eyes. Minerva was closing down at Hermione's questions, and Hermione was pushing into an area that Minerva guarded as closely as Helena's life. "You needn't worry, love." He said, interposing into the conversation and hoping to begin to derail what would amount to a disasterful evening. "If something does happen, you can rest assured that listening to Aegis will be the least of my priorities."

"That's because you'll be going after his head, instead." Helena remarked.

Harold shrugged, "True. Though it'll draw an end to another one of my mysteries."

Minerva quelled her initial commentary, and took the bait. "What mystery regarding Aegis remains?"

"The expression donning his face when I _stop_ him."

"I'd much prefer if you'd let that mystery go." Minerva said with a sigh, concerned with what that would or could mean to both Harold and Helena's lives if Harold wasn't successful. And if he was successful what that would mean to Aegis.

"I know." Harold sincerely stated, "But, I don't know if I can."

"Do try." Minerva gently commented.

"Let us not speak any more regarding this." Helena said trying to restrain her own mirroring feelings on the topic. "It is an old wound that is better left alone for the evening."

"If you could clarify one piece," Hermione asked and held up her hand immediately to forestall any groans, "not regarding Aegis, but Phillip. You said," her eyes went to Minerva, "that you knew where he was before last Thursday. How? And if you were able to find him so quickly, how is it that you haven't found Johaness?"

"I learned of Phillip's whereabouts through Aegis." Minerva carefully replied, "And then procured facts regarding his comings and goings, others with him and such enabling me to formulate a strategy which you were integral in its implementation."

Brown eyes didn't waver as she met muted green ones, "You didn't answer the question."

Neither Harold nor Helena verbally commented on how Minerva responded, they were still too shocked by Hermione's direct response. It had been a long time, and only a few persons who willingly challenged their friend head on.

"You're right, I didn't." Minerva finally replied.

"Then you have a way to find Harkiss and end this?"

"Finding him has never been the principle problem," Minerva paused and picked up her wine glass, before finishing, "getting to him has."

"Why not amass the Order and Aurors and go after him?"

"Because when I have known where he will be, it has been because of Lucius or Aegis and if we do not succeed in capturing or killing him, either Lucius or Aegis if not both will be killed. Unfortunately knowing less than an hour prior does not enable one to amass the numbers we'd need to ensure his capture."

"Then why not plan a strike like last Sunday?"

"He doesn't remain in one location as Phillip did and despite Helena's belief I've been trying to discover a way to end this madness without sacrificing myself."

Helena's eyes sparked, "That night you almost died from exposure, you saw him."

"I was within ten meters of him." Minerva replied as she turned the glass idly within her fingers, "That's how I knew of the attack upon Azkaban."

Hermione felt foolish at her softly spoken statement, _how could I have not realized that she'd have known where he was and what she has sacrificed to do what she has_. "You didn't go after him that night."

Minerva subtly shook her head, "No," her mind drifting to how she had _wanted_ to morph into herself and try to take him on even though she'd have been significantly outnumbered, "but the thought did cross my mind." She feigned a smile as she banished the memory, "However, I would have died and he'd undoubtedly still be here, and Lucius along with Narcissa, Draco, Pansy and their son Scorpio would be dead for betraying him."

"Do you know where he is now?"

Minerva didn't hedge or pause in the slightest as she answered, "No. I haven't spoken with Aegis or Lucius since before New Years."

"But you said you learned of Phillip's whereabouts through Aegis."

"I did, but it was not I whom he spoke to." Minerva's brow arched, "And no, I shan't be asking." She said to dissuade any further questions, "As I'm not well enough, and neither are you; nor Harold. Harry is too distracted with Ginny's recovery, Filius and Pomona have been running Hogwarts while you and I have been temporarily waylaid and are in dire need of rest, Gawain's resources are stretched and there remains one if not persons in the Auror department that are in league with Harkiss, and Rory..." a hint of tenderness laced her words, "has found love once more and for however brief, I want him to be able to enjoy it for a few weeks more. So…" she cleared the emotion from her cadence, "he'll remain where he has been until an opportunity presents itself."

"As long as it isn't this evening," Harold said reaching forward, grabbing his glass, "as I intend to have a bottle of port after dinner."

"Just one." Helena quipped.

"That depends if it is only Minerva and I drinking it," Harold coyly remarked eyes flashing to Minerva, "and you owe me at least one glass tonight."

Minerva nodded, "Indeed I do."

His smile spread, "Splendid."

"And if I have one too many, you can stop by in the morning to ensure that I'm awake to make it to Tessa's for breakfast."

Helena rolled her eyes, "Why did you do that to yourself when you knew we were going out?"

"Kat asked." Minerva simply stated.

Harold nodded as he set his glass back down, "One of us will make sure you won't be late."

Hermione remained quiet, trying to garner another layer regarding the strained relations between Minerva and Tessa as the conversation continued on unabated.

Minerva's jaw flexed, and her words were slightly more formal than usual when having dinner with Helena and Harold; but she answered nonetheless, "Thank you. I don't think I'd hold my tongue if Tessa began again regarding Hogwarts."

"Then perhaps I shan't ensure you are up." Harold jested.

Minerva's brow rose as her lips pinched, "Helena, do forget my earlier remark, as Harold assuredly deserves whatever he has been getting this past week."

"He is right, whether you want to admit it or not. You have let her bash you for years regarding Hogwarts, and I do understand why, but for once, don't you want to set the record straight?"

"Of course I do, but what good will come of it? I hardly see the children as it is."

"It's not as though you'd see them less." Harold remarked drawing a look from his wife. "You were thinking it as well." He rebuked, and pinned her with his gaze, "So don't even."

Helena was momentarily spared as the server came and asked for their order, which, caused Hermione to rapidly pull the menu into her lap almost knocking her wine glass over but thanks to Helena's quick hands saved her robes and the contents. "Thank you," she said as her face flushed in embarrassment regarding what almost happened.

"Do you know what you'd like?" Helena quietly asked to Hermione who upon opening the menu felt even worse as it was in French.

"Ahhh…" Hermione's eyes scanned headings, trying to discern what each one was, and held up the menu to the server indicating what she would have.

_"And the sides, mademoiselle?" _

Hermione stared at him, feeling her blush deepen but then Minerva's cadence sounding oddly relaxing as she replied in French. Hermione waited until Minerva finished and Harold began before turning to Minerva, "What did you just order for me?"

"I hope you don't mind, I changed your entrée to roasted chicken with salad, smashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli."

"And the dressing?"

"What would you like?" Minerva gently inquired.

"Balsamic vinegarette." Hermione answered, and Helena was already speaking to the server, a smile and nod directed to Hermione indicating it was taken care of. "Does Tessa hold her children over you?" Hermione quietly asked as Helena finished her order.

"Hold over her," Helena stopped speaking to the server to answer Hermione's question, and Harold frowned but quickly continued with Helena's order and Helena her answer, "dear. No what Tessa has done…"

"Helena." Minerva interjected, her tone holding a warning.

But Helena charged heedlessly forward, "Don't Helena me. She's my niece and I love her, but dammit to hell Minerva; she stepped way over the line regarding the children and the rules in which you can see them. It was Tessa's attempt to force her mother to resign Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"She only permits her to see the children away from Hogwarts, as she stoutly refuses to bring them to Hogwarts. She only consented to bring there the handful of times this year because of Minerva's waning health, and still she slights Minerva at every opportunity to see them."

"That is not true." Minerva began but Helena would have none of it.

"Really? How about Malcolm's birthday? You told me yourself how she purposefully had the tutor stay with them versus you and asked you to arrive two hours later." Minerva tilted her face downward as her jaw flexed, and Helena reached across the table to take Minerva's hand as she quietly finished, "I didn't bring this up to hurt you dear, but to say that I would take a small amount of satisfaction from you skinning a bit of hide from Tessa for what she has done."

"Yes…well…" She let go of Helena's hand, and discreetly wiped the tear away on her lashes, "now she has to contend with her children _wanting _to see me and I have to admit enjoying the way she tries to finagle not permitting them to visit."

"So she was not thrilled at Katherine's invite?"

A smile crossed her lips, "That is the understatement of the evening."

"If that's the case, then we can drag ourselves to breakfast too." Harold deadpanned, and he shrugged off Helena's disbelieving look.

"We can't just invite ourselves over to Tessa and Malcolm's." Helena finally retorted.

"Of course we can," Harold said with a note of conviction, "they used to stop by all the time before Kat was born, and even after or have you forgotten how often they'd stop by for tea hoping to draw Minerva from Hogwarts for a visit."

"I had forgotten about that." Helena quietly remarked.

"The children will be thrilled to see you both," Minerva said hoping to move the conversation past Tessa.

However, Hermione wasn't ready to let the topic drop. "Tessa must have a reason regarding her feelings about Hogwarts and your association to it."

Neither husband nor wife responded, instead they joined Hermione and looked to Minerva who sighed in response. "She blames Hogwarts for taking Albus, Esmerele, and all the years before, after and in between. And that we placed Hogwarts safety above that of our family."

"She thinks that everything would have been different if Minerva and Albus didn't teach at Hogwarts." Helena elaborated, "And that they wouldn't have been involved in the wars if they weren't at Hogwarts. But, if they weren't at Hogwarts, I shudder to think if Minerva would still be here and if Albus would have lived as long as he did; as it kept them grounded unlike the Grindlewald years when Albus took a mulit-year sabbatical and Minerva was an Auror."

"So, she has been trying to use the children to leverage you away from Hogwarts for years?"

"Leverage is a little strong, but she would like to see me retire for innumerable reasons including my health." Minerva honestly answered.

"And you haven't because…?" she let the question hang out there, hoping Minerva would answer it.

"I wasn't ready to retire." Minerva said with little fanfare.

"And the more she dug her heels in…the more you did too." Hermione said with understanding.

"In some ways, Tessa and Minerva are quite similar hence why they grate on the other so terribly. And as for where Tessa inherited her stubbornness, it certainly came from Minerva; sweet Merlin. When she was a teenager, summer was dismally long for the whole family."

Harold couldn't help but smile, "Albus used to jest that that was why Tessa was born with red hair, so her temper could match her mother's but she'd have reason for it. Merlin, Tessa would get so irate at him for comparing you and she."

"So, now, you two hardly speak?"

"After Esmerele's passing, we have tried to keep an open dialogue."

A frown adorned Helena's face, "That is Minerva's considerate way of saying she has been biting her tongue for years."

"Perhaps we should move to how wonderful you and your brother are getting on." Minerva retorted.

"You have a brother?"

Helena's face pinched, "Yes, and that was low, Minerva."

"As was your commentary regarding Tessa." She quietly snapped.

"Was it not true?"

"True or no, I do not appreciate the topic to be…"

"Hermione is a friend, and she will not divulge the discord regarding you and Tessa. And for the record, she did not and has not brought up your children's fight three weeks ago, and the obvious tension within the family. It might help her to understand _why_ Tessa is acting like she is, and why you do nothing regarding it – much to my displeasure. I know you aren't well, and I can see it in your stilted movements and the ashen pallor of your skin and you probably won't be well for some time; and dammit, it would be nice if you had someone besides me to balance your daughter and her skewed attempts at assisting in your well-being." Helena turned to Hermione, face set in stone, "I have a brother, Hershel. He and I had a falling out regarding Harold; and we haven't spoken since I became engaged." The tenor in her cadence became unsteady, "He was one of the Death Eaters that came that night to kill Jordan and Harold; the only reason he didn't kill Harold…"

"I told him he'd kill his sister as well, as we were bound." Harold finished while rubbing his wife's back, "I don't know what happened to him, he left in a rage just as Minerva arrived."

"Jordan doesn't know nor did our son." Helena whispered, "And it is as tender of a topic as Minerva's relations with her daughter."

"I didn't mean…" Hermione began feeling dreadful for inquiring about a topic that obviously had a deep chasm of hurt and history surrounding it.

"You didn't," Minerva tiredly interjected, "and Helena was correct, and I an old fool."

"We are both fools," Helena agreed, "but I refuse to admit to being old."

A wane smile pulled at Minerva's lips, "Then you will be leaving your glasses at home for the coming week."

"I fear I'll never get caught up if that were to happen."

Hermione enjoyed watching the conversation of the three friends rise and fall, the gentle camaraderie that had developed over decades of friendship; but most of all, she relished how unguarded Minerva was. Granted, Minerva was probably far more guarded than usual because she was there, but she rarely saw this side of the woman. And if she did, it was usually after several drinks or at the end of a very long day; and even then, it was for the barest of moments. The conversation drifted to the appetizer and the last time they had been at this restaurant and how the evening had ended with Albus sitting for close to an hour with children and parents alike coming to him and asking to speak with him as they had believed him to be Father Christmas.

Helena wiped the tears from her eyes, "I remember the pitiful look he gave us as we continued drinking without him."

"That's just because he was relegated to his solitary glass of wine while we finished off another two bottles."

"I don't believe it was the solitary glass, rather the hot cocoa the young lad spilled on his slacks and the inability to clean or dry it until we left." Minerva said, the memory of evening sweeping over her.

"I'm sure that was only part of it, as he was probably more heart-sickened to have a good cup of cocoa spilt and not drank." Helena quipped.

"Too true." Minerva agreed.

A smile adorned Harold's face as he turned to Hermione, "And what of you?"

"Me?" Hermione blinked not understanding.

"Yes," his blue eyes kindly drew her further in, "you. You've been deathly quiet of late, so what of you? The prophet's duo watch is under the impression that you and Mr. Weasley will be remarried by the summer's end."

"Ahhh," Hermione winced shaking her head causing Helena's smile to broaden at what that could mean, "No. At our current rate, we'll be lucky to still be speaking to the other by summer's end."

Minerva frowned, "I thought it was getting better."

"He does wish to reconcile, but I no longer do."

"Why?" Minerva breathed before she could stop herself.

Helena found herself holding her breath as Hermione met Minerva's gaze and responded almost immediately, "I'm not like Molly and I want more out of my relationship than to be a dutiful wife, and I don't want my life becoming stagnant as it had."

"How did he take it?" Helena questioned.

Hermione peeled her gaze from Minerva, "I think he's having a hard time coming to grips with it. But my answer will not be changing, and if anything the past several weeks and his actions have only reinforced my decision.

Harold's brow furloughed, "His actions?"

"Accusations regarding my friendship with Minerva being the cause of my mother's…" Her voice caught and she paused as she fought to remain in control of her emotions, "death and our children's lives being placed in danger."

"Ahhh, yes." Harold nodded, "Not a wise accusation and one that could and probably will have a lasting effect on his career at the Ministry."

"I thought you agreed not to influence Gawain." Minerva stated, drawing a curious expression from Hermione.

Harold cast Minerva a sidelong glance, "I have not."

"Nor the entire division." Minerva pushed, acutely aware of her friend's ability to side-step a problem.

"No one from the Unspeakable division will intercede, Minerva; but your father-in-law," Harold said turning to Hermione, "has. He ordered Gawain to assign him to third shift, indefinitely. Which came none too soon, as the Auror department wanted his wand for his commentary regarding you, Minerva."

"He's lucky that Arthur only placed him on third shift, especially considering his relationship to you." Hermione commented.

Minerva flinched, "My relationship?"

Harold and Helena edged slightly closer, as Hermione nodded her head. "Aren't you the one who paid the Burrow off after Cedrella passed enabling Arthur to keep his family home as Aegis was otherwise occupied?"

"Minerva," Helena whispered, "is that true?"

"Cedrella and Aegis were twins," Minerva breathed in response as she turned and took in the woman sitting next to her, "how on earth did you deduce that? Not even Arthur knows for certain."

"You said that your relationship with Aegis stretched well beyond to helping the other's families; Cedrella was his sister. And one afternoon, Molly chatted about Arthur's mother and how she had died before his seventeenth birthday but the property had been left to him. Aegis was not able…"

"He was able, but without the connections as he didn't want it to tie back to him as his family would have disowned him; much like they had Cedrella."

"Does Arthur know that his uncle is Aegis Black?" Harold questioned.

"No," Minerva said with a mournful expression, "and I am uncertain if he'll ever learn of it. He knows that Cedrella was a Black, and he is related to the Black family; however, he is unaware of the whole lineage. And I doubt Aegis will rekindle any relations with him; as Molly killed his niece."

"Pureblood lineage is enough to give me a headache," Hermione's commentary drew a round of smiles and a curious set of emerald eyes that remained on her for several seconds as if trying to determine what else she had been able to deduce regarding Minerva.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"No," Harold said between gasps, "that was here."

Helena and Minerva shook their heads, "It was not."

Harold nodded, "August of '44."

Helena could feel Harold's certainty, and began to nod. "I think he's right."

"I was in…" Minerva narrowed her eyes, the memory almost beyond reach as she tried to recall what town she was in that dreadful summer, "Paris."

Helena waved her hand, "Up to that month, remember you were reassigned to Nantes along with Filius. We met at the encampment, the three of us and Eliza and William came here between the bombings for dinner."

"Alright, you were right, I give…" she said holding her hands up as a rose hue crept up her neck.

"There were five of us," Harold animatedly turned to Hermione, as Minerva tried to get him to stop talking, "that came here for dinner one evening."

"For Merlin's sake, at least lower your voice." Minerva hissed, causing Helena to laugh louder.

"It's not like they'd remember us, Minerva." She wheezed, trying not to laugh at Minerva's expression and failing miserably.

"The war was still raging on, the soot and dust littering the air made it hurt to breath. Being ingenious wizards and witches, we made our way here for a bit of French cuisine. And after not having had much by way of food for close to a week, the meal tasted as if it had stemmed from Hogwarts kitchen itself. The chicken was supple, the wine flowing, and it wasn't until after the curfew sounded and we received the bill that we realized our mistake." He paused, and waited – elated that Hermione pieced the problem together.

"You didn't have any Francs."

Harold shook his head, "Not a one. So our esteemed friend, here, unbraided her hair; cursing at us under her breath the whole time, and proceeded to unfasten the top several buttons of her blouse before standing up and making her way to the back to speak with the owner."

Hermione's eyes widened as she turned to Minerva, "Oh my God…you didn't."

Helena nodded, "Oh, she did."

Minerva's blush deepened, as Harold continued on. "She disappeared and…we all left."

"That most certainly did not help my intended solution." Minerva said while clearing her throat.

And Hermione was almost afraid to ask, "What did you do?"

"Even a decade later; she didn't have to pay for her meal when she came here. So…either a wonderfully cast memory charm or…" she shrugged and Minerva's face became a shade deeper.

Minerva's brow quirked at Helena, "You'd have been far more apt to try your wiles than I, I felt horrible for what I did to him for…"

"Days." Helena finished shaking her head as the laughter began ebbing from her features, "Especially when you came by and he offered you food a week later, after our supplies hadn't arrived."

"How often did the shipments not arrive to your post?"

Harold sighed while pulling several bills from his billfold and laying it on the check, "It was a rarity when it did."

"Minerva's friendship with Francis probably saved our lives." Helena soberly stated, "She would pick up a meal every day about five o'clock, and she'd split it amongst nine of us and anyone else who needed it."

"Was it just food that didn't arrive regularly?"

"No." Harold softly answered, as he handed the check and payment to their server. "We were constantly short on supplies, including medicinal ones."

Minerva stood, "Yes, we were."

Hermione was positive something had happened by the suddenly solemn mood surrounding the other three, "I'm sure it was a difficult time." She quietly stated as she followed Minerva to the front.

Minerva reached the host, and gave him her ticket, retrieving her cloak as she made a decision. "We are going to Harold and Helena's for a nip of port; you are welcome to join us."

Hermione paused as she slipped on her own cloak, "Are you sure you want me to go?" Her eyes flicked to Harold and Helena as they moved closer, "I don't want to intrude any further."

Minerva shrugged on her own cloak, "I wouldn't have invited you if I thought you were." Her fingers nimbly began fastening the buttons.

Hermione turned momentarily away from the host and sealed her seam line before turning back around, noticing for the second time this week that Minerva was wearing a muggle cloak. But, her comment was temporarily delayed, as Helena and Harold drew next to Minerva.

"Are you joining us?" Harold asked as his fingers splayed along his wife's back.

Hermione forced herself not to glance to Minerva, "Yes, if that'll be alright."

"That's wonderful," Helena stated, and the small group began walking outside. "Do stand close though."

Hermione took a marginal step closer, "Aren't we apparating?"

Minerva exited from the restaurant, "Not this evening," she replied while stepping between Hermione and Harold, entwining her arm with Harold's while wrapping her fingers around Hermione's arm. "Go ahead Harold." Harold waved his hand and a swirl appeared just inches before them, "Welcome to…" they stepped forward and Hermione felt a wave of blackness before a rush of frozen air blasted their face, "the Harrisons."

Hermione blinked as her eyes adjusted and she found herself staring at a small knoll with a window, door and soft lighting that stretched outward over the snowy ground highlighting what she was sure were magnificent gardens during the summer. "Harrison's Hovel…" she murmured in awe by the home nestled into the side of a hill.

"It looks rather different in the spring." Minerva remarked as she slipped her arm from Harold's and was about to let go of Hermione's when her hip caught and Hermione immediately steadied her as Harold and Helena continued on having not noticed. "Thank you." She whispered as Hermione met her gaze and smiled back.

Seconds later, they were inside, Harold and Helena excusing themselves and asking Minerva to make herself at home and show Hermione around leaving them momentarily alone as they both undid their cloaks. Hermione once again noticed how Minerva was manually unfastening her cloak, but the opportunity to ask slipped away as Helena came around the corner.

"Do you like port, Hermione?"

"I don't know." She answered as Helena ducked into a room down the hallway. "I've never had it."

Minerva hung her cloak up, "Well, just remember that it goes down smoothly, but it has a bit of a kick." She said while steering Hermione to where Helena had vanished, into the den to see Helena pouring four glasses.

"I'll try and keep it mind," Hermione answered as she gazed at the myriad of photos adorning the quaint room. There were pictures of Harold, Helena, Jordan, Matthew, Samantha, the other children, an older picture of the Harrison's and she edged closer to see the same features of a boy that was within Minerva and Albus' photo album. _Their son_, Hermione realized as her eyes continued scanning across the photographic representation of their lives until she found her gaze involuntarily halted at the picture resting on the end table and the two women laughing, arm wrapped around each other, as they intermittently waved to the camera. Neither woman had really changed, Helena's face had become slightly softer and not as defined whereas Minerva's had morphed from being not as sunken to healthily refined – which considering her current health spoke volumes.

Helena glanced up and noticed where Hermione was looking, "We had just returned from a long weekend before I married Harold."

"How long have you two been married?"

"Ahhh," Harold's deep voice resonated across the room, "59 years, 60 come June 18th."

Hermione smiled at him, "60 years – are you going to have a party to celebrate?"

Helena handed Minerva her glass and they held the other's gaze, "We were going to, but with everything…we've decided to wait and see."

Hermione had turned at Helena's soft declaration and watched the interplay between the two women and was certain that the hesitation was derived from ensuring everyone's safety. "I can't imagine being married to someone for 60 years." Hermione whispered, "I barely made 10."

Helena handed Hermione a glass, "You'll find someone."

Minerva forced a smile upon her face, at Helena's comment and raised her glass. "To finding someone."

Helena and Harold glanced to each other, and then to Minerva who met their gazes before glancing to Hermione. "To Hermione's good fortune." Harold stated as he strode forward, and Helena reiterated the sentiment.

However, Hermione waited a heartbeat and said as the glasses clinked together, "To sixty years, well…fifty-nine and a half but who's counting?" The group chuckled and gave a hearty swallow, Hermione enjoying the smooth flavor as it blanketed her palate.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Two glasses later, Minerva was bidding them good evening and collecting her cloak to leave; Hermione following suite.

"Again, thank you for the enjoyable evening." Hermione sincerely stated as she gave Helena a brief hug and then Harold as they respectively replied they too had a good night, and hoped to do it again, soon.

Hermione stepped back and reached to the floo powder wanting to wait, but curtailed the desire and threw the powder into the grate calling out Headmistress of Hogwarts and she stepped into Minerva's office.

Instantly the gallery of portraits sprung to life, as did several of the surrounding torches.

"You are not Minerva." Everard commented.

"Exceptionally astute Everard." Phinneas sneered.

"As if you thought it wasn't her as well." Everard bit back.

"You were released hours ago from St. Mungos, are you just now returning home?" Albus questioned.

Godric partially answered, "She was here for a brief time earlier and then left for an engagement."

However, she didn't have to respond as Dily's did for her. "She's been at the Harrisons with Minerva."

The rooms chattering fell silent as all eyes turned to Hermione, and she found herself taking a partial step back, thankfully saved as the flames flashed again and Minerva emerged. "I see they have momentarily detained you." Minerva said, wishing to banish the forsaken soot from her skin, as it brought memories from Grindlewald and the way the furnaces burned day and night spreading ash for dozens of kilometers back all too clear.

"They are a curious lot." Hermione carefully replied, as Minerva moved to the staircase and she couldn't help but be reminded of the oddity regarding the cloak which was draped over Minerva's forearm and she came to a decision. "Do you mind if I use the internal passageways this evening and spare me a few steps?"

"Of course," Minerva replied gripping the banister as she inwardly bemoaned at having to maintain her façade for a few moments more when all she wished to do was collapse into a heap and sleep after taking a draught for the pain and one to help curtail any possible hangover. "Will you be bringing Rose and Hugo back here tomorrow evening?"

"I've asked Arthur and Molly to go ahead and keep Rose and Hugo through the coming week."

Minerva literally pulled herself up the last stair with her right arm, her hip having lost most of its mobility a half dozen steps prior. "Are the Potter's children still there too?"

"Sirius and Lily, yes." Hermione absently answered and then paused at the nature of the question and way it was asked and it only highlighted how much _had_ changed since the first of the year – as she and the family weren't addressed or spoken about in a formal fashion, and her heart buoyed despite the question she was about to ask.

"I'm sure the house is still running in a semblance of chaotic order."

"Chaotic order," Hermione smiled as she crested the final step, "I'll pass that along to Harry." She murmured, "He'll appreciate the sentiment." Her eyes landed upon Minerva who was drawing up to the edge of the chesterfield and laying her cloak upon the back of it.

"I doubt Molly would." Minerva said turning, fingers balancing on the leather back.

"Assuredly not," Hermione agreed, taking a step closer to Minerva as she softly asked the question she had wanted to countless other times this evening, "Are you alright?"

Minerva paused, "I'm tired, but otherwise, fine."

"It's just, you are…" Hermione's eyes flashed to the cloak and back, "wearing a cloak without magical seams."

Minerva felt her breath catch in her lungs, and she closed her eyes knowing that her previous expression had already said all that she couldn't. "I haven't been well," she whispered not able or willing to see Hermione's face.

Hermione watched as Minerva's jaw flexed as she foraged ahead, "For how long?"

With pain staking slowness, Minerva forced her eyes open and steeled herself at the overwhelming concern staring back at her. And as much as she wanted to obfuscate, she couldn't. She didn't have the heart left too. But somehow she found the strength to answer Hermione honestly, at least in part. "I haven't fully recovered since the New Year."

"The New Year?" Hermione breathlessly stated as her mind leapt forward, "What do you mean, haven't fully recovered?" Brown eyes frantically searched the tired green ones only a scant meter and half away from her, "That means you weren't well when you came to Surrey with my parents or last weekend…" the moment hung between them as Hermione grappled with the knowledge and the implications, "that's why Helena was so upset with you…" she breathed out in realization, as her eyes widened, and vague memories of last Sunday coalesced, "Merlin Minerva, how badly were you hurt Sunday?"

"Other than a slight welt, I escaped unscathed from any adverse spell work."

"And what of your own magic?" Hermione questioned, afraid to hear the answer she already knew; because she could still recall the depths of burnt skin that had swept over most of Minerva. "Or rather the consequences of using your magic? And it's effect on you?"

Minerva didn't move nor dare to breathe as she let the percussion of questions wash over her, wanting to give in. Wanting to sink to the floor and cry until there were no more tears. Wanting to be anyone other than who she was and the responsibilities associated with the name, the legend, the leader, the Headmistress, wife, mother, grandmother…and let Johannes win. She could feel the tears pushing against her eyes and she willed them away as she closed her eyes once more, unwilling to permit them to fall as she fought for an ounce of air to say something.

"How bad…?" Hermione questioned as she gently placed her hand on the edge of Minerva's elbow.

"I'm…tired," she finally whispered while opening her eyes, the tears all but gone as she struggled onward, "and with a bit of rest, will continue to feel better."

"You didn't answer my question." Hermione gently pushed.

Minerva lifted her hand and captured Hermione's arm within her dexterous fingers, her lilt thick but steady as she unwaveringly spoke, "Let this be."

"Minerva…"

"Please," She breathed as the tenor in her voice broke, belaying the depth of emotion that otherwise remained veiled behind her mask. "Hermione, don't."

As much as Hermione wished to know the truth, she wouldn't push Minerva any further. Not tonight. It would break her as much as it would Minerva to do so, and she just…couldn't. "For now."

"That's all I ask." Minerva tenderly replied as her fingers slipped from Hermione's arm, her head turning to the red door, "Goodnight."

Hermione followed Minerva's line of sight and felt her shoulders sink at the appearance of the inner passageway door, "Just…know that I'm here." Hermione whispered as she withdrew her hand.

"I know," Minerva forced a hint of a smile to her lips, easily reading the sincerity laced with concern.

Hermione forced herself to take a partial step back, mouth sputtering out before her brain processed the words, "Go with me tomorrow evening." It was only when emerald eyes questioningly stared at her did she realize what she had said, and found herself quickly catching up. "Out. No Harkiss, no kids, no Hogwarts, another evening out with a friend. As I'd venture to believe that part of what ails you is stress and…"

"An early evening." Minerva interrupted, knowing there was a nugget of truth to Hermione's argument, but also because she knew what little time she had left to spend with those she cared for was rapidly running out.

"That's fine," Hermione said recovering, "as I don't think I'm up quite ready for anything too late with my cubs waiting in the wings."

Minerva gave the briefest of nods as she moved to her bedroom doorway, "Goodnight, my dear."

Hermione's voice caught as she replied, "Goodnight, Minerva." They shared one more brief moment before Minerva disappeared into her bedroom and Hermione remained rooted to the floor for another heartbeat in a mild state of astonishment – she was going out with Minerva, again.

Tomorrow night.

Her heart skipped a beat as the kindle of hope flared in her chest, eyes still fastened upon the closed door as a thought she hadn't dared let surface before skittered across her mind. _Maybe…just maybe Minerva feels something for me too._

The minute smile grew larger by the second as she walked to the red door, casting a glance backwards over her shoulder, when the reality of what she had asked finally sunk in. She had asked Minerva out, they were going somewhere…and she no earthly idea where to go or what to do.

Thankfully the torches sprung to life as the door snapped close on her exclamation, "Ahhh shit!"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: To Helena's meddlesome tendencies ;) As always I do hope everyone is enjoying. _

_Posted an update to asouldreams' blog regarding lemon sections and a potential new home (other than fanfiction dot net) for Bonding and other HG/MM stories._


	98. Chapter 93 January 30, 2010

**Chapter 93 ~ January 30****th****, 2010 (Saturday)**

Helena was surprised to see her best friend already showered and waiting for their arrival, "You are up early this morning."

Minerva set the Daily Prophet down as Helena and Harold cleared the landing, "I am most mornings."

Helena noticed that even her hair was dry, "I'd venture unusually so."

"Yes, well; I've had to make several accommodations this last year. And how are you both doing this morning?"

Harold rubbed Helena's back, "A bit tired, but overall well. What time are you to be at Tessa's?"

"We have a half hour. Would you like some coffee?" Minerva motioned to the pot resting on the table before them.

"Please," Helena said sitting down opposite of Minerva, "and before you ask, it was my idea. Not Harold's."

Minerva outwardly sighed as she poured another cup of coffee, "Dare I ask the reason?"

Helena opened her mouth to answer, but Harold spoke before she had an opportunity. "Helena believes that you love her." He placed his hand upon Minerva's, stopping her from pouring and waiting until she lifted her eyes to meet his, "Do you?" He softly asked.

"Is that why you consented?" Minerva questioned him in return, "Because of an attraction?"

Harold could feel his wife want to answer, but thankfully she held any retort or thought to herself, enabling him to focus on Minerva. "What I saw last night was not an attraction. And my question remains, do you love her?"

"Harold," Minerva began to lean away, "don't…"

He tightened his grip on her hand as he gently answered his own question, "You do." And her movement stopped as her eyes closed in defeat. Precious seconds passed by before Harold said another word, "And how is Albus?"

"Merlin," Minerva stood, Harold's hand falling away, "don't. Not this morning." She moved towards the window.

"I only ask, not to judge but to understand."

Minerva's hands splayed out along the window's ledge, the morning's stray shafts of light glinting off the tears streaking down her milky complexion, "It's tearing us apart." She brokenly divulged with a heartfelt gasp.

Minerva felt a gentle kiss upon her temple, followed by Helena's soothing voice, "Oh, love…"

"I cannea do this…" she turned and fell into Helena's arms which easily wrapped around her far too thin frame.

"I'm so sorry," Helena kissed Minerva's locks as she lifted her gaze to meet the heartfelt one of her husband, "I shouldn't have invited her. I know how hard…"

"That's the problem," Minerva's broken voice breaking over Helena's, "A part of me…is pleased that you did."

Harold inwardly groaned at the implications of her statement and what that had to be doing to her and Albus' bond; and the feelings being traded back and forth between them. Undoubtedly jealousy, heartache, despair…he halted his thought line, not wanting to imagine how he would feel if he were either Minerva or Albus – having his love for the person who held his heart ripped apart.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"No, Bonnie." Hermione said as she frantically continued scrolling along the activities listed on her laptop screen, hoping to glean an option for this evening. "I'm a little pressed for time this morning."

Bonnie glanced to the computer screen that Hermione was staring at, brow arching as she withdrew her glasses so she too could read the contents. "You are searching for a play to go to?"

"Hmmm…" Hermione blinked realizing that Bonnie was still in the room and was looking at the laptop's screen too. "Yes. I thought you had left."

"This is for this evening with Minerva?"

Hermione pulled fully back to look at the diminutive house elf, "That was the intent."

Bonnie's eyes glanced back to the screen, "She has seen many of these plays with the Harrisons or her children over the past year." Yellow eyes darted to brown ones, "What else is available?"

"Ahhh," Hermione opened a new window, befuddled as to why Bonnie was assisting her. "How about a concert?" she questioned, while beginning to type the parameters for the search. "And why are you helping me?"

"Because, after this morning's visit with Tessa, she will need a relaxing evening." Bonnie carefully replied.

"There must be more between them than Minerva implied."

Bonnie didn't avert her gaze, merely remaining focused as a whole new listing came into view. "Undoubtedly, and at some point, I have no doubt that you will learn the whole truth. Now…what else will this," she pointed to the laptop, "let us see?"

"You don't think she'd like to hear the London Symphony perform?"

"She saw them just after her birthday, part of an evening out with Rory."

"Then, what do you suggest?"

Bonnie looked over the top of her silver frames, "If you were going out with Mr. Harry Potter, what would you do?"

"I'd…well, I'd probably go to dinner with he and Ginny."

"Is that all?"

"Depends," she thought back to some of the evenings out that she, Ron, Harry and Ginny used to go on, "Ron and I never really had a lot of money. And Harry and I used to spend a fair amount of time…" a spark flashed in her eyes as she realized, "going to the movies; being muggles, it was something we got a kick out of dragging Ron and Ginny too. Do you think Minerva would enjoy going to a movie?"

A smile adorned Bonnie's face, "I believe you have found a unique solution." She reached up preparing to take her glasses from her face as she finished her thought, "It has been many years since she has gone to a movie."

Hermione cleared the previous search and entered a new one, enabling her to bring up a movie theatre displaying the movies playing and their show times. "What do you think…?" she began to question but stopped when she realized that the small elf had vanished. "Thanks for all your help," she muttered to herself as she scanned the movies' synopsis wondering what type of movie Minerva would like to see.

And not having the slightest idea.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena felt Harold's hand along her waist, as well as his dampening thoughts; but it was Minerva's slight shake of her head that fortified her resolve, barely. As it had started as soon as they had arrived at her niece's, and after five minutes showed no sign of ceasing.

Tessa turned to Helena having noticed her aunt's clenching jaw, "Go ahead, Helena, defend mother."

Helena's brow arched in response, "Your mother doesn't need to be defended, she is quite capable of doing it herself should she choose to."

Minerva cleared her throat breaking the mounting tension, "Tessa, I did not come here this morning to bandy words with you. Nor to have you and Helena do so in my stead. I came to have a quite breakfast with you and the children, because despite our lengthy history, I love you. And I _do_," her brogue thickened, "care for you. Now that," she veered towards the kitchen, "that is sorted, what can I do to assist with breakfast?"

Tessa turned to Helena about to question her, but Harold stepped forward. "She loves you and you know this. Despite all that you have done to push her away."

Helena took Harold's arm, "And while it may irk you that you do not know the entire breadth of her comings and goings; you are acutely aware what those decisions have cost her – including what she has done for _your _safety. But she, like you, are out of time."

"Thank you for that glowing synopsis, dear; now if you are through, could you drag yourself, Harold and my daughter in here as breakfast is ready."

Tessa frowned, "I didn't…" she began moving past her aunt and uncle, "have it started. How did you…" she turned and in a half dozen paces, she was stepping into the dining area to see her children already served and eating. "…have breakfast so quickly?"

Cal glanced up and smiled at his mom, "Nana made pancakes!"

"Magic dear." Minerva replied as she sat next to Cal, "Right, love?"

Cal bobbed his head, "Yup, one minute there was no food and the next _all_ this was here."

"Why can't you do that mom?" Kat asked as she took a sip of her orange juice.

Harold waved his hand, a smattering of eggs and pancakes appearing on his plate, "Because your grandmother is very good with magic, just like you will be to when you grow up."

"Really?" Kat muttered through a mouthful of food.

"Manners, dear." Tessa corrected as she poured herself a glass of orange juice, "And yes, you and your brother come from a long line of notable wizards," her gaze left her daughter's and moved to her mother's, "and witches."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione set her napkin down as she finished her breakfast, trying not to look towards the Headmistress' empty seat. While not completely unheard of for Minerva to miss meals, especially of late, it did not mean that Hermione or the rest of the staff did not wish for her to be present at them.

When Minerva was amongst them, it seemed as though the whole of the Great Hall was calmer. When she wasn't, at the beginning of the school term, it wasn't as noticeable – but as the year had progressed and the issues with the Minister of Magic and growing problems with Johannes; it had become glaringly apparent how soothing Minerva's presence was to the whole of Hogwarts.

Hermione could hear stray conversations filtering up from the students wondering where the Headmistress was, that she was missing close to a meal a day and the concerns and worry surrounding the reasons why ranged from perceived efforts by her helping the Ministry to go on raids or other non-sensical notions which caused a partial smile to curl the corner of her lips.

"How are you feeling?" Aurora asked as she sat beside her.

Hermione's smile spread farther at seeing the Astronomy Professor, "Much better, and how are you?"

Aurora poured herself a glass of orange juice, "Comparatively quite well, but relieved to see both you and the Headmistress are doing better." Her voice dropped two octaves, "What _did_ happen last weekend?"

Hermione immediately noticed that their conversation was being monitored by the rest of the staff who could hear them, "Phillip Thompson's capture."

"Thompson." Aurora softly repeated, "I thought the Ministry detained him."

"With assistance," Hermione replied as she easily recalled how her body felt when it was slammed into the wall; the curse splitting her side as Minerva's voice harrowingly screamed 'No'; and the world had momentarily blacked out around her. She could hear the wizard screaming in frustration as the world came blearily back into view, to see the outline of Minerva's obscured body kneeling before the wizard as her clear contralto defied his demand; and Hermione's fingers had found her wand as the wizard's had drawn back and a snap of his wrist inflicted some pain upon Minerva – and with every ounce of concentration she lifted her wand and cast the stunning spell.

"I take it something went wrong, as both you and Minerva were injured."

_Both you and Minerva were injured…_reverberated within Hermione's skull as the image of Minerva brokenly crawling forward, hands charred black as the smell of almond washed over her as Minerva breathlessly whispered to her, _"Let me see…" _She could feel Minerva's hand moving upon her own, the slightest intake of breath before she heard Minerva again, _"We need to get you to St. Mungos."_ She tried to redirect Minerva, knowing that the woman leaning over her needed to go to Hogwarts; she could see Minerva's black charred flesh despite the blood covering long fingers before teary emerald eyes met her own and then she felt a gentle movement before soft lips brushed along her forehead.

Soft lips and the hint of almond before the gentle timber of Minerva's voice washed softest lips and heady scent away; _"Forgive me, my dear."_

"Hermione…" Aurora's voice dragging Hermione's thoughts back from her ruminations and to the present.

"Yes," Hermione rasped in response, before she cleared her throat and the memory, "it did. Thankfully, everything worked out."

Aurora leaned closer, "Are you sure? Minerva did not look well earlier this week."

Hermione swallowed the sudden rise of bile in her throat at Aurora's softly spoken sentiment, one that mirrored what she had seen last evening while out to dinner with the Harrison's and Minerva. Minerva had looked, tired. Exceptionally tired. And Hermione couldn't imagine how Minerva would look without a glamour, if she looked tired with one. "She looked piqued last evening too." Hermione admitted, more to herself than to Aurora; beginning to second guess the notion of taking Minerva out to a movie this evening.

Shock laced Aurora's face, "You saw her last evening?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, why?"

"She has been unwell and not been at meals this week, nor has she granted any audiences with the staff save for Filius." Marx gently interjected, and at seeing brown eyes widen even further by his remark he expanded on his answer, "We only saw her Thursday at the bi-weekly staff meeting, and Filius conducted and finished the meeting."

Aurora reached over, laying her hand upon Hermione's arm. "We know you've become close with her, and we are all just concerned." Her voice became tender, "About you both. Filius stated that you lost a lot of blood, a rictasempra curse along the right side of your chest. And the Headmistress was severely burnt."

Hermione felt herself nod at his comment, trying to push the horrid scream that had pierced her consciousness every morning for the last week; "I'll be fine, as I am sure Minerva will be. She's probably just pushing faster than she should."

Pomona glanced up from her breakfast at Hermione's remark, both women sharing a long look as Aurora and Marx agreed with her statement; a statement that both women knew that while true, was also unsettling. As Minerva's health was precarious _before_ the events of last weekend, there was no telling how it had ultimately affected her. Because it wasn't as if Minerva ever truly relayed how she was feeling; and Hermione couldn't think of a time when Minerva didn't push.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Harry inwardly winced as Ginny pushed herself upwards, pain flashing across blue eyes as she did. "You're doing good."

"Ahhh, you're full of…shit." Ginny breathed out as she struggled to move her right leg forward.

"Keep it coming." Harry said ignoring her grunts of pain.

"I still can't feel…"

"Stay focused on moving your leg forward." Harry interjected as he took a step backward.

"Harry…I can't…." Teary eyes latched onto his.

"You can." He reassured, "And you will."

"What if I don't?"

"You will."

"Harry…"

"Helena has stated that you will regain the feeling in your legs, and while it may take months, she is confident that you will."

"And if I never do regain feeling again," a note of despondence were lacing her words.

"If you don't, I'll love you all the same." Harry whispered, "Whether you can walk or not," he took a step closer, "it isn't your legs that I love, but you."

"And if I can't…ever have sex…"

His brow edged upward, "You are _going_ to walk."

"And if I don't."

"You are able to stand, with mild assistance holding your body upright with your arms; but three weeks ago my wife was in a coma and I didn't know if she was ever going to wake up again. Now she's standing." Olive eyes warmed with love, "And I'm absolutely confident that in another three weeks, that you'll be walking. And even if you aren't and you never do, I still love _you_."

Tears dripped down her cheeks, "Merlin, I love you."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Johannes didn't acknowledge the comment as he leaned closer to the long haired wizard, "Someone talked."

Aegis rolled his shoulder, "That's apparent."

"Do you believe it could have been Lucius?"

Aegis' face remained impassive, "No, while not a hundred percent behind you, he's loyal to the cause."

"And why should I not think it you?"

"Because, when I don't agree with you, I tell you." Aegis icily countered.

There was a long pause as black eyes narrowed, "Then explain how Minerva knew the time frame in which to attack? My contacts at Azkaban sent word that she arrived with Granger slightly after 4am."

"Then you know more than I."

Johannes stepped even closer, "Only six people knew of Phillip's location besides the persons' with Phillip; you and Lucius are two of the six."

Aegis stood his ground, "Look elsewhere."

His lips pinched before he responded, "It isn't one of the other three, nor me."

"Well it wasn't I or Lucius."

Johannes' wand flashed and Aegis' body fell to the floor in crippling spasms, "One of you two talked!"

Seconds passed into minutes before Johannes finally deactivated the cruciatus curse, and Aegis sucked in a welcoming breath before he pushed himself up off the floor, anger lacing his face. "Do it again, and I _will_ kill you myself, as I didn't talk."

"Then find me the person _who _did."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

With practiced ease, Minerva embossed the wax with her seal and set the finished letter next to the growing stack along the corner. Vaguely she heard the rustle that accompanied the various portraits comings and goings amidst the slight bantering between Dippet and Dilys as she reached for another sheaf of parchment while her gaze flickered up to the clock.

It was not quite yet three.

And while she had several hours until she was due to meet Hermione, it would take her an incredible amount of time to prepare. Especially without utilizing magic.

_Not that I can't,_ a small part of her corrected but was just as quickly struck down by the far too real facts, _I just…can't _she meekly finished to herself with a sigh.

No matter how much she yearned to use magic, she could no longer rationalize the consequences; unless there was no other choice. Because the pain from casting even the simplest of spells, ones she once taught to first year students, would leave her hands charred and lungs breathless. Whereas having to cast something akin to a mastery level spell would blacken not only her fingertips but the whole length of her arm and the very notion of having to cast something once so easy – caused her stomach to roll and perspiration to pool along the back of her neck.

She was certain it was going to get worse.

And she didn't know how she was going to handle it.

Or if she could.

She was tired.

So very tired.

"Are you going to be able to get some rest this evening?"

Minerva glanced up to her husband's portrait, "It'll be a fairly early evening, but I'm going out with Hermione." She could feel his jealousy pulse at her comment, and the weight of the day increased even more.

"I see."

The seconds stretched out between them, the rest of the portraits having become deathly still and unusually quiet. "A relaxing dinner, nothing more."

"Minerva…"

She held up her hand, "Please don't, Albus. I'm tired and I can't argue this with you. Not today."

Slowly, he nodded as blue eyes sparkled from unshed tears, tears he'd never be able to shed in the portrait, but ones she could feel nonetheless. And they were tearing her apart, the anguish rippling along their bond with as much poignancy as if she'd just transfigured into her animagus.

However, despite the feelings being traded between them, she fully intended upon going this evening.

And he knew it.

As did she.

Causing a tear to slip off her lashes and down her cheek before their gazes broke at all the things that weren't going to be said.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione paused as she reached for the door and took a breath. A deep one. "Merlin, what was I thinking?" She muttered as she steeled her nerves as her fingers curled around the brass handle. "Dinner and a movie."

She turned the handle, as she silently finished the sentiment. _Between friends._

Brown eyes scanned Minerva's living room as she stepped inside to a seemingly empty room. "Minerva…?" She called out, veering towards the brass banister leading to her office, expecting to see her at her desk completing some piece of necessary paperwork or replying to her unrelenting correspondence. However neither was the case.

Her office was empty too.

Hermione could feel a frown pulling at the corner of her lips as she began to turn back around, the terrible notion that perhaps Minerva forgot came to the forefront.

But a flash to her left, along with the distinct sound of a door opening eased her tightly wound nerves. Her burgeoning frown immediately dissipated having been replaced with a hint of a smile that became a full-fledged one as Minerva stepped into the living room. "Hey." She heard herself say, causing Minerva's face to turn to her and her breath to catch in her throat.

Perhaps it was the simple attire. A pair of casual black slacks and long sleeved emerald blouse that's top two buttons remained undone. Or the way Minerva's long ebony hair looked braided and draped over her left shoulder versus in its usual bun. From the light, Hermione couldn't ascertain if Minerva was using mild glamour charm, make-up, or a combination of the two. The only thing Hermione was certain of was the deep maroon lipstick adorning normally rose colored lips.

And while she still looked a bit tired, that wasn't what had stolen the breath from her lungs.

She was beautiful.

"Your note said to wear something casual but muggle, I hope this suffices."

Hermione felt herself nod, as she forced her brain into operation. "Yes, you look perfect, I mean fine…well more than…" she gave up as she felt a blush ignite along her cheeks, and enumerated where they were going so as to end her bumbling. "We are going out to dinner and a movie."

Green eyes sparkled, "I haven't gone to a movie in quite some time."

"Nor would I guess the type of restaurant we are going to."

Ebony brow arched in question, and her lips pursed but she refrained from asking. "You look nice as well." She redirected, "I thought you were allergic to wool." Eyes darting to the charcoal colored slacks.

Hermione was moderately caught off guard that Minerva remembered something so trivial from goodness knew how long, "I am, however, these are lined with silk."

"Elgin." Minerva called out.

"Mistress?" He appeared beside her.

"If you could bring my cloak."

"Of course, will you need anything else?" his eyes flickered to Hermione and a hint of a smile cropped across his face, "Or you, Professor?"

"Just my cloak, thank you Elgin." Minerva stated.

Hermione's voice caused Elgin to stop before he disapparated, "Could I impose upon your skills to take us to the main gate?"

"Of course." He replied before vanishing and reappearing three seconds later with Minerva's cloak draped over his arm. He extended it outward, and long deft fingers took it from him and slipped it on.

Hermione watched as Minerva reached into the pocket of her cloak and withdrew a black scarf, wrapping it around her neck. "How was breakfast?"

"As expected," Minerva stated as she began the arduous process of buttoning up her cloak as she tried to make it seem, natural. She noticed how brown eyes were watching her every movement, causing her to divulge more than intended to divert Hermione's attention away from her manual buttoning. "with a little color as Helena and Harold did opt to drop by as well."

Hermione noted the way Minerva once again buttoned her cloak, beginning to wonder if she always wore a muggle style cloak when she was knowingly going to muggle establishments. "But the children were happy to see you?"

"Very." Minerva finished the last button and withdrew a pair of gloves which she easily slipped on, "And Elgin did a wondrous job with breakfast as well."

Hermione's brow furloughed, "I thought you were going to breakfast?"

"I was, but I learned a long time ago to be creative when visiting my daughter."

"You knew before arriving that Tessa wouldn't have breakfast ready, so you arranged to have it prepared here to help smooth over any problems that would arise."

"Yes, she did." Elgin answered before Minerva had an opportunity, "Are you ready?"

Green and mocha eyes met, a subtle nod passed between them and Hermione turned to Elgin, "Yes, thank you."

Two seconds later both women were standing with their backs to the large gates of Hogwarts and the impressive magical castle, as the wind licked at their face and the snow swirled about them.

Hermione didn't waste a moment, acutely aware of how the cold undoubtedly still affected the elder witch; as she took a step to bring them closer and laid her hand upon Minerva's forearm. "We're going to appear in a back alley along…"

"The location is irrelevant, as you are the one apparating us."

Hermione smiled, "True. Are you ready?"

_I have been all day, _she thought before softly answering, "Yes." Any further discussion became irrelevant as she felt a swell of magic sweep over her, the mildly jarring effect of a side-along apparition pulling along her stomach, and then the world jolt by in a rush before the night sky and oblique buildings began to take shape; and a heartbeat later they were standing on the street ankle deep in snow.

Hermione noticed the slight pull upon Minerva's features, "Does it bother you when traveling by side-along apparition?"

"Typically, yes. However, you are one of the few whom it doesn't."

"So, I rate alongside Rory and your children?"

Minerva shook her head as they began walking forward, "I am extremely nauseous if apparated by Rory and even more so if by one of my children."

"Then whom doesn't cause you to feel ill?"

"Besides you?" Minerva quipped.

Hermione chuckled, "Yes."

A solemn expression momentarily swept over angular features, "I've only encountered a handful of persons who doesn't, and even fewer as I've gotten older. Of course, due to the adverse effects, I rarely permit anyone to apparate me. Other than you, the only other person alive is Philip."

"Philip?" Hermione couldn't help but inquire, "Not Phillip Thompson?"

"Rather Templeton." Minerva elaborated.

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

Minerva's gaze momentarily flashed to Hermione, "Familiar?" Her voice becoming a scant whisper as she thought back over the last several months, "I dunna believe I have ever mentioned his name."

"Helena did." Hermione supplied, "She mentioned his name along with several others as friends of yours from your time at Hogwarts."

"Yes, he was…is." Minerva softly replied.

"Did something happen between he and you as I've not heard you speak of him?"' Minerva was quiet for several steps, and Hermione glanced over concerned. "Minerva…?"

"My apologies." She feigned a partial smile, "It is merely that the war with Grindlewald was…very difficult to not only I and my family but my friends as well." Hermione motioned them to the left, as Minerva continued talking. "Only three out of the seven of us made it through war. Philip lost Lizza and never truly recovered, and while William died, he lived on through Melinda but she died before giving birth."

"Then you and he didn't remain close?" Hermione inquired as she motioned into an unsavory diner.

"Here?" Minerva's brogue belaying her surprise.

"Yes," Hermione assured, "here."

Minerva's face portrayed her doubt regarding the diner, but she opened the door and went in without a word. The atmosphere was close, bordering on dank and smelt of old beer and fish. Minerva quickly deduced that the patrons of the diner were to seat themselves. She maneuvered through the Formica tables and vinyl chairs, pausing by a small table along the back. Hermione joining her.

"I doubt either one of us will be recognized here."

"Assuredly," Minerva remarked as she slipped off her cloak, gloves and scarf. "How did you find this place?"

"After the war," Hermione sat down, "Harry and I would try various places around muggle London, looking for three things."

"Anonymity, good food and…"

"Affordable." Hermione finished.

"And as you brought me here, am I to assume that it had all three?"

"You know the problem with assuming…" Hermione jibbed.

"Don't I know." Minerva murmured as she reached out to retrieve the yellowing menu.

"Ohhh…" Hermione stopped her, "you won't need that."

A coy smile pulled at thin lips, "Truly?"

"Yes." Brown met green eyes, "You'll have to trust me."

Her normally staunch brogue becoming unusually warm, "I do."

Hermione's heart soared at the simple, yet heartfelt declaration and she didn't bother trying to hide the grin spreading across her face. She was saved from replying as the server stepped next to the table.

"Evening ladies, care for a drink?"

"We'll both take a pint and the basket."

His eyes remained on Minerva as he nodded before vanishing behind the bar, grabbing two lukewarm glasses as he poured the drafts and moments later set them on the table. "Your food will be up shortly."

"Thank you." Minerva replied as she picked up her glass.

"You do like beer, I hope…" Hermione partially questioned as her fingers grasped the handle.

"It's been some time," Minerva picked up the glass, "as I tend to drink whisky."

"Having your own distillery could sway your preferences."

"A bit." Minerva stretched out her arm, "To a good night."

Hermione's glass clanked off Minerva's, "I'll second that." She watched as Minerva's lips met the glass and she couldn't help but recall how soft they had felt as they brushed her forehead last week; and she washed down the semblance of a moan with the Guinness. "If you don't mind me asking, what does Philip do now?"

Minerva set her glass down, "He's an herbalist."

"Herbalist?"

Minerva's eyes misted over as she quietly responded, "Yes," her fingers absently twirled the sweating glass, "he grows rare and exotic fauna."

"Similar to what Pomona grows in Greenhouse 1?"

"Hmm…" Minerva's eyes lifted and met Hermione's, "no. Rather, he's the person you contact if you need something that you can't locate anywhere else in the world."

"If he cultivates such rare plants, wouldn't someone steal his crop? I mean, if it can't be that rare if he has a supply."

"Having a supply and being able to access it are entirely different." Minerva took another sip of her beer, "Philip is a recluse and sells his wares through a third party; protecting his whereabouts and enabling him to maintain his anonymity."

"And how do you know he sells rare fauna?"

"I visit him semi-annually."

"Then you have remained close."

"Yes." Minerva's answer almost swallowed by the small group of patrons by the door.

"But for some reason, he remains reclusive." Hermione could see the hesitancy lacing her features. "I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about this."

"It's fine, Hermione." Minerva relayed, "It's just not something that I typically discuss with anyone except Helena or occasionally Rory."

Hermione easily read the emotion lacing milky features, "You…love him."

"I do." Minerva stated, not bothering to deny it. "We were once…very close. All of us." She let the memories momentarily over take her, "Much like you along with Ronald and Harry, but there were seven of us instead of three."

"What happened during the war that made him pull away from everyone including you and Helena?"

"He watched a curse strike Lizza, knowing that she'd die before receiving treatment as he was captured and taken behind enemy lines. They had announced their engagement less than a week before then."

"Did Lizza die?"

"On Helena's table, and she ignored the bomb warning trying to save her and almost died too."

"What happened?"

"She became paralyzed, a piece of shrapnel became embedded in the base of her spinal cord."

"There is no record of her ever being paralyzed."

"There are a lot of holes in the records from the front lines. By the time she returned to England, Helena was walking with the use of a cane. Four months later, you'd never have known she was paralyzed for almost two years."

"How'd she overcome the injury?"

"I don't know the specifics. I was…dealing with my own issues by that juncture. And was not reunited with her for almost a year. As for Philip…I found him about nine months after his abduction. And…" her voice caught as she recalled the state she found her friend, "he was not doing well."

"But still alive?"

"If one could call it that." Minerva dryly remarked before taking another long draught of her drink.

"What had they done to him?"

"He had been forced to watch and listen to their screams as they tortured the muggles with the cruciatus curse until their bodies would break, as some of the wizards who captured him were members of Germany's SS division. They'd conduct some of the same spells upon him, as practice until he would beg for them to stop. By the time I found him, his body was so conditioned to the treatments he had received; that he no longer felt safe when around others in public as his body became aroused when yelled at or a wand brought within a half meter of his person."

"They sexually assaulted him?"

"So many times that when I found him and killed the wizard holding him; he almost killed me."

"But after you freed him, you two eventually reconciled?"

"When I returned home, we did. Ultimately, Helena and I helped to establish him in the house he currently lives in."

"And now, you two get together twice a year?"

"Initially, we used to travel to various venues around the world; but as the years have passed he's become more and more withdrawn and only our long history affords me the ability to visit him."

"So if I wanted to meet him…"

"You'd probably be petrified and wake up somewhere far from his home, not remembering what you had been doing and assuredly you would not recall anything about him."

"Did Albus know him? Or Rory?"

"Of course. Philip knew Rory, and they dated for a short time after the end of the war as Philip…learned to cope with what had happened to him. He, like Helena, knew my family and friends and probably a few friends that Helena didn't know."

"That sounds auspicious."

"Well, I'm sure she met them at some juncture."

"No," Minerva ambiguously remarked, "she did not."

"I thought you and Helena shared everything."

"We shared most."

"But not all."

"Not all." Minerva affirmed.

"Even now?"

"We do share everything now, but before you ask, no not then. Harold and she had just become engaged and I was still drifting between relationships as my heart and soul healed in the aftermath of the war. While we were still quite close, we were at very different places in our lives."

"Your baskets…" The server set two baskets filled with fried fish and chips. "And did you both want another pint?"

"Please," they said in unison.

Minerva warily eyed her basket, while pulling it closer. "Fish and chips."

"Entirely unhealthy, other the scant amount of fish you'll get, but I promise it tastes wonderful."

"I'm sure." Minerva picked up a piece of the fried fish, "It's been decades since I've permitted myself the pleasure."

The barman placed two pints on the table as he gruffly said, "Enjoy." Before greeting the three men who had just entered the diner.

The rest of the dinner passed quickly, both women making short work of their food, washing it down with two more pints before asking for tab. Their conversation having drifted away from Philip, and to far less personal matters; as they spoke of Hermione's classes and how the students were faring before drifting to Ginny's recovery and back to a far more personal topic regarding Hermione's father as they donned their cloaks.

"Thank you again for allowing my father to reside in your home at Crete."

"It is the least I could do."

"Most others would never do what you have done nor continue to do, so again, I thank you."

"Please, Hermione, do not thank me for giving your father a place to live. If our roles were reversed, you would undoubtedly have done the same."

"Of course."

"Then the matter is closed."

"But…"

"One of the elves has been taking him to St. Mungos every morning for his therapy, and also staying with him and the children to make their meals and anything else that they may require."

Brown eyes grew wide, "Helena relayed that Rose and Hugo were with Arthur and Molly."

"Initially they were as you recovered, but after your father was released and moved to Crete, I asked that the children be moved too."

Unfortunately, Hermione understood the underlying reason why Minerva had her children join her father in Crete. To help her father heal, and undoubtedly her children too. "How long have they been in Crete too?"

Minerva stepped from the diner, "Since Tuesday evening."

Hermione's eyes grew large as she stopped moving for a moment as Minerva's words sparked an understanding. "How long were you incapacitated after Sunday morning?"

Minerva stopped and turned, face poised as she replied. "Not as long as you, but longer than I anticipated."

Worry instantly spread through her veins, "Minerva, you weren't well before."

"True, and haven't been well in over a decade." Emerald eyes bore into brown ones before a soft sigh eschewed forth. "I was in a coma till Monday and did not recover until mid-Tuesday."

"I'm so sorry, Minerva. You should never have taken me to St. Mungos. I would have been fine if you had gone to Hogwarts first. Poppy would have been able to heal the wound."

"You had already lost two if not three pints before we left the warehouse. You would have been dead before Poppy would have made it to the infirmary. Michael had to give you five pints of blood before you were stabilized."

"But…the chance you took in saving me…"

Despite herself, Minerva took a step closer to Hermione.

"You could have died." Hermione softly whispered, tears suddenly sparkling in the feint light.

Long, gloved fingers reached out and gently ran across what Minerva knew to be smooth skin, she wiped the glistening trail away. "I could have, and thought I may when I apparated us to St. Mungos." Minerva choked back her own tears as she finished why she did what she had, as she withdrew her hand. "However, you still have a long life before you, I do not."

Hermione gasped at the words spoken, as she shook her head in denial. "Don't…" She finally managed to breathe out in a rushed whisper, "say that." Her eyes turned steely and voice grave, "Ever."

"Hermione…" Minerva began but brown locks shook as her stone cold voice reiterated the word again.

"Ever." She pinned Minerva with gaze, "As you are not dead yet and if it's a choice;" her voice rose upwards an octave, "you had better find a way so that we'll both live, or by God I'll find a way to revive you so I can kill you myself."

"I cannot make that promise Hermione, no more than you." Minerva countered. "The best I can do is if we both carry a separate portkey. One to Hogwarts and one for St. Mungos. I can have Filius create one for Hogwarts and Helena one for St. Mungos."

Hermione measured Minerva's words and slowly acquiesced, "Alright. But I'd like us each to carry both portkeys; so please have two sets made."

"I'll endeavor to have them by lunch tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, "Thank you."

Minerva began walking, "Don't thank me, Hermione. Because, whether you wish to speak of it or not, there will come a time and place when I'll die. And while I will do everything I can to minimize when that happens, it _will_ happen within the next year."

"Please Minerva," Hermione swallowed her pride as she gazed imploringly at the woman beside her, "while I understand what you are saying, can we not discuss this tonight?"

Minerva reached over gently laying her hand atop Hermione's forearm as she stopped walking, her Scottish lilt prevalent as soft words danced between them. "Nor do I, but I need you to accept what is going to happen to me."

Hermione laid her hand atop Minerva's, as she replied from her heart. "I can't."

Each word reverberating through Minerva's bones and piercing her soul, causing her eyes to flutter shut to help stymie the pain from those seemingly two simple words.

"Forgive me, Minerva…I just can't." She reached out and pulled the elder woman closer, wrapping her arms around her as she whispered her belief into the night's cool air, "After everything I have seen, I have to believe there is a chance for you." Slowly Minerva returned her embrace, "There has to be." Hermione repeated.

Minerva wanted to remain within the warm embrace, her heart yearning to divulge why there was no hope left for her. How she was bound to Albus and was being pulled to the ether one painstakingly day at a time. But she couldn't. She wouldn't do that to Hermione. She wouldn't crush the spark of hope that Hermione defiantly believed in. It was going to be difficult enough as it was for Hermione when the time did come; there was no need to add any additional burden to Hermione to make the last several weeks easier for her. No matter how much she _wanted_ to. "I will," Minerva slowly leaned back and withdrew her arms, "try and hope too."

"That's all I ask."

Minerva stepped farther away, wiping the stray tears away with the back of her gloves. "Now," she cleared her throat, "where is the theatre and what time is the show to start?"

Hermione smiled, "Just around the bend, and we have fifteen minutes."

"And the name of the movie?"

"It's a science fiction, fantasy flick that's been out for several weeks named Avatar."

"Avatar?" Minerva repeated to ensure she had heard it correctly.

"Yeah, thought a fantasy was apropos after everything we've had to deal with of late."

"As long as there aren't any little green men."

Hermione chuckled, "They're blue…"

Minerva's brow arched and Hermione's laugh echoed outward, tickling Minerva's skin causing her lips to involuntarily curl into a smile too.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Just over three hours later, Hermione and Minerva strode through the Great Oak doors; Hermione having listened to Minerva for the past ten minutes express how seamless the special effects were and how much they had changed since Albus had drug her to see H.G. Wells War of the Worlds.

Four minutes later they were riding the gargoyle staircase upwards, and Hermione was unsure where the gargoyle would stop – Minerva's office or her personal chambers. Idly she wondered how the gargoyle knew the difference. However, it would be sometime later when she'd realize that they got off in her personal chambers, as the conversation had shifted into a debate regarding Avatar's notion of a global life force.

"And you do?" Hermione's voice ringing in disbelief.

Minerva paused as she unwound her scarf from her neck, "Yes, as a witch I can manipulate energy and matter, but I can't give something life by merely waving my wand and wishing it to be so."

"How can you say that? You are a transfiguration Master, turning inanimate objects into animate ones is one of your specialties."

"I can transfigure a log into a rabbit and it will remain so for the duration of the spell; the magic breathing life into the rabbit. However, as soon as the spell or magic ceases, the rabbit does too."

"And when you transform the log into a rabbit?"

"You cannot." Minerva relayed as she peeled her gloves off. "You can transform an inanimate object into another inanimate object, an animate object into another animate object, and an animate object into an inanimate object; but not an inanimate object into an animate one. The best that can be done is a powerful transfiguration spell which will last perhaps a month perhaps slightly more before the magic can no longer sustain the animation."

"In class, you never covered the limitations regarding inanimate into animate objects."

"It is topic reserved for Mastery candidates and I only glossed over the topic the last quarter of seventh year. As it requires far more skill and energy to transfigure and animate an inanimate object."

Hermione set opposite of Minerva, her cloak draped over the arm of the chesterfield beside her, "Kane inferred that when you were feeling well, you could take a log and transform it into a body. How is that not animating an inanimate object?"

"I can transform a log into a body, but not a living person Hermione. If you go through the curricula, you'll recall from your experience in the classroom this year and personal experience from Hogwarts that all the transfigurations you have practiced or taught work with the three main areas of transfiguration; and not animating an inanimate object."

"And is that the basis of why you believe all living things are connected?"

"In part," Minerva carefully expanded her answer, "but my belief was solidified after entering the Heart of Hogwarts."

"How? Does it show you the connection between people?"

"In a way. Why do you not believe everyone's connected?" Minerva asked, leaning forward slightly, curious to hear Hermione's answer.

"It's not that I don't believe it, but…" Hermione's voice momentarily faltered, "I don't want to believe that someone like Lucius or Voldemort are connected to anyone, let alone my children."

"Life doesn't dictate good or evil, Hermione. It merely exists and is connected; from the smallest gnat to a Ukranian Ironbelly dragon including the whopping willow to the Thames."

"The butterfly in the Amazon parable."

Minerva's brow arched, "I'm not familiar with the reference."

"It's something my dad used to reference regarding the rainforests and the connectivity of the world; and if we continue to chop the rainforests down what that would mean to Earth's ecosystem. Because a butterfly flapping its wings in the middle of the Amazon controls the weather pattern half a world away."

"Mistress…" Elgin's voice ringing outward a millisecond before his body appeared, and he cast a fleeting glance to Hermione before turning back to Minerva, "this was brought to you from Narcissa." He handed a leather wrapped parcel outward, careful to avoid passing the bloodied area to Minerva.

"Narcissa?" Hermione repeated as she watched Minerva take the object from Elgin and with care, unrolled the bound leather parcel a gasp slipping from her lips at the piece of bloody, mangled flesh enclosed. "What the hell?"

Minerva ignored the question, as she pulled the small letter from the slit of leather and laid the contents of the package on the coffee table as she slipped her glasses on. The words immediately snapping into focus and she quickly read the scribbled note. "It seems that Johannes didn't believe Aegis."

"Is that…him?" Hermione's voice having risen three octaves at her question.

"Rather Lucius, he's reset his family's wards." Minerva said tossing the letter aside as she refolded the flesh into the leather wrapping before picking it up.

Hermione glanced to the letter, hopes dashed at reading the actual message as it was written in some type of code, before her gaze jerked back to Minerva as she joined her standing, "I don't understand why she sent _that_, though."

Minerva paused in her movements to turn back to Hermione, "Something must have happened to Aegis and that culminated in Lucius being attacked. It is unclear as to the precipitating events, but somehow Lucius was injured and he activated the family's blood wards. Or Narcissa did. But gaging from the contents, I believe it was Lucius. And she's asked for medical assistance."

"Why ask you for medical help?" She inquired following as Minerva grasped the railing and began descending the staircase. "Is it because Helena's your friend? And why send the piece of flesh?"

"The parcel allows entry through the wards." Minerva's gait was noticeably jilted as she leaned heavily on the banister while continuing on, "As for medical help, if I am unable to procure Helena's assistance," Minerva's knuckles became whiter with each step she made, "I can ask Poppy."

"Then you mean to help him?" Hermione breathlessly asked, noticing that Minerva's face had become ashen and pained; gone was the rosy, relaxed features from less than a half hour ago as the esteemed woman stopped and tiredly met her gaze.

"Yes, Hermione, I do."

Hermione bit back her response, along with her feelings towards Lucius, trying to remember that he was the one who had given Minerva blood less than a month prior and kept her alive. However, it was hard. Very hard.

And from the way Minerva's features began morphing, it was obvious that she knew as long fingers gently laid upon her arm; before a gentle brogue danced in the air with soft words. "I know the notion is difficult, my dear, but do try and understand."

Brown eyes brimmed with emotion as she managed to rasp a reply, no longer able to meet Minerva's warm gaze too ashamed of her reaction. "I am trying."

Minerva's hand left her arm, fingers gently lifting beneath her chin until their gazes once again met. "You have every right to be angry and hurt by my decision, Hermione, but know that he and Aegis were undoubtedly injured because of my haste to find and stop Phillip."

A tear slipped off her lash, "It's just…"

"Hard." Minerva finished as she wiped the tears away with her thumb, "For me too."

Brown eyes scanned emerald ones searching for understanding as to the meaning of Minerva's murmured phrase, but the moment was lost in the next blink as Minerva softly reiterated, gently withdrawing her fingers as her delectable cadence rang tenderly between them. "I had a delightful evening, my dear."

The words, _me too_, were on the tip of her tongue but her mouth suddenly went dry and she felt as if they were burning her throat raw as they finally fell from her lips, "Me too."

Minerva forced herself to take a step backwards, trying not to notice how full and lush Hermione's lips were as she felt a pang of jealousy rush through her bond instantly reinforcing any momentary doubts. A hint of remorse lacing her voice as she finally whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione didn't have an opportunity to do anything but stare as she watched a wall instantly erect before her; shrouding Minerva, the woman she couldn't help but love, from view and replacing her with the perfunctory Headmistress of Hogwarts. And in the next blink, she could see green floo powder fluttering from Minerva's sure fingers and without a backward glance, Minerva was gone.

A full minute passed before Hermione finally registered that the flames had once again become an orangish-yellow and she found herself slowly lifting her gaze to the famed portrait of the previous Headmaster of Hogwarts who was also Minerva's prior husband to find blue eyes riveted upon her over top his famed half-moon spectacles. "How did you know that she loved you?"

Albus' portrait almost blanched at the question but was saved from having to answer, as Hermione walked closer to him asking a follow-up question. A question that caused the whole room to utterly stop and stare at the Head of Gryffindor house in shock as Albus speechlessly tried to comprehend how to answer the question…without vying for another moment by having her repeat it and having to hear the dreaded question aloud once more.

Because it was already ringing through his consciousness in chorus, how could it not? He was witnessing an outtake of his now living nightmare – as Hermione's innocent question reverberated from the marrow of his bones again. _Do you think she could ever love, another?_

His mind easily replacing the word another with 'me'.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: Sorry for the dearth of time between updates. As always, hope you enjoyed._


	99. Chapter 94 January 31, 2010

**Chapter 94 ~ January 31****st****, 2010 (Sunday)**

Hermione was many things – confused by Minerva's sudden wall earlier, boggled by Dumbledore's response to her question, angry at the world for its typical dreadful timing, concerned regarding her children and how they were adapting to being on an island in Crete, worried about her father's wellbeing and recovery, thankful for Bonnie's assistance in planning that helped to craft an enjoyable evening, but the one thing she didn't feel despite the lateness, or absurdly earliness, of the hour depending on one's viewpoint was tired.

It was just before five and she hadn't slept a wink. Her mind churning through the evening over and over again, hoping to glean a reason for Minerva's reaction; but as of yet, she had been unsuccessful. She had long since stopped trying to understand Dumbledore's oddly cryptic answer, figuring his response was a by-product of his eclectic life attempting to be captured in an oil rendition.

And the rest of the portraits were no better, staring at her and remaining unseemingly quiet following Albus' peculiar response, even after she had prompted the same question to the gallery as a whole.

_Hermione stared up at the prestigious gallery, "You're telling me that the best answer is that Love is precious?" _

_ "Would you care for a lemon drop?" Albus asked, deflecting her entire commentary._

Hermione's quiet contemplation was disturbed as she saw a figure moving away from main gates and towards the Great Oak doors, instinctively she leaned closer to the cold glass hoping to discern who was nearing but the night's blackness was too thick.

Her heart jumped to her throat as she wandlessly summoned her robe while grasping her wand from the ledge of her desk and flew to the door. "Godric, someone approaches the doors, has Minerva returned?"

"She has not, nor are there any visitors expected at this hour."

"I know," she replied as she stepped from her rooms in a flurry, robe fluttering around her after donning it as she sped down the seven flights of stairs and rushed to the main doors wand poised within her grip but before she could grab the brass handle the massive door gave way. She lunged forward, "State your business…"

"Most days," A familiar brogue danced on the icy air, "I'd state the establishments Headmistress."

"Minerva?" Hermione stated stepping closer to see the welcoming outline of Minerva's features.

"It is I, Hermione." She tiredly stated while moving from the long shadows of the parapets entry and into the flickering foyer of the entry hall.

"Were you hurt?" Hermione said in a rush, hand already darting outward to steady Minerva's upper arm as her eyes took in the volume of dark stains heavily splattered over the once emerald shirt and black slacks she had been wearing hours earlier. "My God, Minerva, you're freezing."

"I need," Minerva ignored Hermione's commentary, "to rinse off." She said more to herself beginning to move to the stairs.

Hermione scrambled to keep up, and reached back out and pulled Minerva's arm to spin her around. "Minerva," she scanned the woman while tenderly asking, "are you alright?"

A flicker of emotion balled up in her throat, but her need to remove the blood from her person was even more overpowering. "Yes," she managed to utter, "but I need to shower."

And the more Hermione saw of Minerva, the more blood she saw. She let go of Minerva's arm, "Is that Lucius' blood?"

"Some." Minerva replied while beginning to stride up the stairs, blood covering parts of her hand that she used to pull herself up. "But also Narcissa's."

"They were both injured?"

"Yes," Minerva breathed out between a hiss of pain, her hip throbbing as she reached the second floor.

"Helena accompanied you?"

"As is Michael."

Hermione ignored Minerva's odd verb tense, "But they will be alright?"

Minerva didn't pause to respond until she was standing before Gargoyle, "Narcissa didn't survive, Lucius will." The Gargoyle instantly sprang aside and she stepped onto the stairs.

And for a heartbeat, Hermione wasn't sure if she should follow, but her feet made the decision for her and she was standing facing Minerva. Easily seeing that she was truly covered in varying degrees of blood; small spatters were on her face, neck, across her glasses, reflecting from her hair, staining the whole front of her shirt and a large portion of her slacks. "What…happened?"

"Apparently, Johannes believed Aegis enough to spare Lucius' life. But some of his men did not. And by default, that included Narcissa."

"You said she sent the note."

"She had." Minerva clipped as the gargoyle ground to a stop.

"I don't…understand how she was killed." Hermione stated as Minerva stepped into her living room. "As Lucius reset the wards."

Minerva continued on, not slowing down as she responded while entering her personal rooms. "Clifford and two others were upon the property when he did, unbeknownst to either Narcissa and Lucius."

"Who is Clifford?"

Minerva opened the doorway to her bathroom, "He was one of Johannes' men." Her voice echoing off the marble in response and Hermione stopped by the door and night table that she had witnessed Minerva use on more than one occasion.

"Then he was killed?" Hermione asked into the doorway.

"Along with the other two." Minerva answered.

Hermione tried to ignore the sound of rustling clothes, or the thought that Minerva was undressing just around the corner. "What happened to Narcissa?"

The sound of a shower dampened Minerva's reply, "Donald caught her with an effusing curse after she stopped the other two."

"Effusing? And Lucius?" Hermione inquired, and after several seconds without an answer, she called out, "Minerva?" Only to not be answered again. Without thought her fingers curled around the door's frame, knuckles whitening as her resolve forced herself to remain within Minerva's room and not take another step as she muttered under her breath, "I should go."

"While you should," Albus' stated immediately drawing Hermione's startled gaze, and he met her eyes with his own swallowing his personal feelings. "I…" if he'd still been alive, the words would have burned his throat raw, "must ask that you don't."

Hermione felt her jaw slacken at the portrait's comment. "Why…would you say that?"

Albus could feel Minerva's overpowering guilt, sense of loss, oppressive fatigue, and the melancholy that was on the verge of swallowing her whole. But how to relay any of that without telling her that they were bound? "I…" he focused on his love's needs and not how what he was about to say would make him feel, "was married to…" he curtailed the words my wife, "Minerva for a long time and from our conversations over the past few months…know that she…" it took all of his resolve not to let his voice waver as he finished, "needs someone to be there for her." And without waiting to see Hermione's reaction or hear her response, he stepped from the portrait; leaving her alone with his wife.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva rang the washcloth out for the third time before hanging it up, her skin chafed from scrubbing the blood off before stopping the water. Tiredly, she opened the shower door, grabbing her towel and gingerly began drying her skin. She tried to keep her thoughts from returning to the harrowing scene from earlier, but she couldn't.

Every time she closed her eyes she'd see his bloodshot blue ones pleading up her, blood frothing from his mouth as he desperately tried to speak as Helena and Michael began their triage.

"Dammit..." she muttered while wrapping the towel around herself, eyes fixed upon her clothes she had been wearing. Clothes that Helena had been surprised to see her in, but any further commentary was waylaid by their journey to Malfoy Manor with a quick stop by Michael's.

Clothes that would have to be thrown away or burnt; whichever Elgin and Bonnie did to such attire. It was a shame, really. As they _had_ been a reminder of a pleasant evening out with Hermione; from surprisingly tasty food to an engaging movie.

Hermione.

Her thoughts paused as her mind crawled forward as eyes snapped to the doorway leading to her bedroom. "Hermione?" She called out, praying that the younger witch had left and felt a sense of anxiousness swell in the pit of her stomach as Hermione's distinct voice responded.

"I thought you could use the company."

Minerva glanced to her mirror, wincing at seeing the damp, drawn and old reflection of herself. "I'll be out…" she gripped the ledge of the counter, "in a minute."

"Did you want some tea or a bite of something?"

Minerva saw herself nodding in the reflection, "Some tea perhaps."

"I'll ask Elgin to bring some up in the living room."

"Thank you." Minerva called out, wondering what she could do in five minutes to make the woman staring back at her not look so…well, old.

However after a heartbeat a loud sigh fell from her lips, because it wouldn't matter what she did do; she was still, old. What did matter were the large dark circles that had taken residence beneath her eyes, and dexterous fingers reached for the small tube of…she believed the man had called it concealer.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione tried not to dwell on how unusually long it was taking Minerva. She was certain it was merely based on the hour and the fact it had already been a long and trying day, and that was the reason behind her delay, nothing more.

After all, she had said that she was alright. And Hermione could not recall seeing any wounds, even her hands had seemed, well fine. If one were to forgo the blood caked along the back or between long fingers.

Taking another deep breath, she contented herself by having a third sip of tea. Thankful that she had chosen to wait, as Minerva feigned a smile as she entered, "Dare I ask why you are up so early?"

"Rather late," Hermione corrected as Minerva fingered her evening robe along the hollow of her neck while sitting. And she couldn't help but note how tired Minerva appeared. "Do you have anything on your calendar this morning?"

Minerva reached forward, pouring herself a measure of tea before extending her hand outward and filling Hermione's cup. "Filius cleared most of my calendar through next Wednesday following last week's events." She carefully leaned back, "So, yes, I'll be able to get some rest. And yourself?"

"I have some essays to mark, but nothing that can't wait until later."

"Perhaps it can hold till this evening, and Bonnie can take you to see your children and father."

"That would be wonderful," Hermione expressed, head tilting, "but from your word choice, I should take that to mean you shan't be joining us too?"

"I'm afraid I have plans with Rory this evening."

"Do those plans include George?" A mischievous twinkle lining brown orbs.

Normally expressive eyes narrowed into hawk like slits, as they appraisingly gaged the woman opposite. "Yes, they do." She weighted a heartbeat before following up the confirmation with a question of her own, "Has George finally confided in someone?"

"Rather a culmination of extraneous factors adding up to the unbelievable yet wondrous summation that George has fallen in love, with Rory. And how is it that you know? Rory?"

"Yes, and he's brought George to the Manor on occasion for dinner."

"And Percival and Tessa still have not guessed have they?"

A low chuckle erupted off of thin lips, "No, nor would they believe Rory would fall for George."

"Is it because of the age gap between them?"

"While significant, no. They know very little regarding Rory socializing outside of the high country; as he retreated there following Derrick's passing. They, also don't realize the man George is, besides the owner of Joke store in Diagon Alley. He's become defined by his occupation and not the man beneath."

Hermione was curious, "And you, how do you feel regarding their relationship?"

Minerva's smile was infectious as it lit up her entire being, "I couldn't be happier for them, especially Rory."

"Even though there is close to fifty years between them?"

"I never said their relationship wasn't plagued with difficulties, and I don't know if it is destined to last; I only know that for the time being while they are together, they are content and seemingly in love."

"Seemingly?"

"We'll see if it holds over the next few months and whether or not George is strong enough to relay his feelings regarding Rory to his family."

"You don't think George will tell his family?"

"At some point, I do. I just don't know how long Rory will wait for him to be honest with them. Rory doesn't like hiding who he is, nor who he loves. He is a very private man, but it doesn't mean he isn't proud of his life."

"He wouldn't leave George over that, would he?"

A solemn expression descended over Minerva's features, "Yes, he would."

"George would be devastated."

"As would Rory."

"And yet he'd still leave?"

"If George can't be honest, then yes, he will."

Hermione frowned recalling George's heartfelt words the morning after her birthday, "I don't know if George will ever tell his family, as he's dreadfully afraid of losing them. That's why he's never said anything about his feelings. Additionally, he feels obligated to having children in Fred's stead."

"Then he'd better leave Rory sooner than later," Minerva finished the last of her tea, "before he can't."

"You really think they're already that in love with the other?" She questioned as Minerva poured herself another cup.

_'I couldna help myself, Minerva. I love him too much._ Her focus came to just as the tea was about to splash over the brim of her cup. "Yes," Minerva said while carefully maneuvering her cup to the edge, "I do. From not only Rory's sparse comments, but George's actions as well."

"If he has fallen that hard for Rory, I don't see George leaving him."

"Fear is a powerful motivator."

"Fear of…?"

"Failing his family. His brother. His self-imposed obligation."

"And is his worry regarding Molly justified?"

"Molly," Minerva quietly repeated as she contemplated her response, "no. She loves him, and after already losing one child she will go to any length to not lose another; whether physically or otherwise. Regarding his brother, Percy, he has reason to worry."

"As if Percy has room to talk after everything he put the family through back during the war. Though, I know how hard everyone worked afterwards to heal the divide and how important family is to George. I just…" Hermione hesitated at the double meaning contained in her statement, "hope that he doesn't have to give up on his love for Rory, after having to wait so long to find it."

"And vice versa for Rory, as I didn't think he'd ever find love again."

The moment hung between them for minutes, both women seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Minerva silently recollecting the years Rory spent alone, while Hermione was formulating a way to ask Minerva why she herself had never sought love again. Which after several dismal trials in her head, Hermione stopped the question restructuring and cleared her throat. "And what about you?"

Minerva blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You said that you didn't ever think Rory would find love again, so I was asking about you? And if you believe you'll ever find love again?"

Minerva felt as if all the oxygen had just been sucked from the room as her heart sank to her toes while her pulse jumped into overdrive as she unabashedly stared at Hermione for a solid ten seconds before she found any words at her command. "I…never really considered it. We had been married for over forty years and following his death, I lost Esmerele and then the events of Hogwarts and Voldemort; it hasn't been until the last few years that I've not been devoted to finding Johannes. Additionally, I…never believed I'd live as long as I have from my own affliction."

Hermione barely curbed her initial question as she desperately wanted to know what had happened to Minerva that night. Not just witnessing the incident after the fact. "So in the last thirteen years, you haven't been tempted to date once?"

Minerva's heart skipped a beat at the inquiry, because the answer was definitely affirmative if it meant spending time with the woman sitting across the coffee table. "Once," Minerva honestly divulged, "but nothing came of it."

"Why not?" Hermione breathed out almost afraid to hear her answer, while equally curious as to whom that person had been.

"I…" emerald eyes remained fixed upon brown ones, "was still in love with my husband."

Hermione swallowed, hard. "You really loved him." She brokenly whispered trying not to show how much Minerva's answer had sliced through her heart.

"Yes," Minerva's lilt resonating with the love she felt for him, as she carefully finished the statement aware that Hermione would at some point realize the use of her verb tense. "I did."

"And now?"

As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't. Nor could she obfuscate as mocha eyes bored through her, forcing her to speak the truth from the depths of her already damned soul. "My love for him wanes."

Elgin appeared beside Minerva, "You'se morning report."

Minerva didn't remove her gaze from Hermione's for a heartbeat more before turning to Elgin, voice raspy as she spoke. "Thank you." She said taking the folded parchment along with her glasses and finally breaking the moment as she unfolded her glasses along with the report. She found herself having to re-read the first three lines a second time, as she felt brown eyes still upon her, before comprehending what had occurred last evening.

"Anything of note happen?" Hermione finally asked as she watched Minerva's gaze fall to the lower third of the parchment.

Minerva finished reading the final half dozen lines before glancing up, "Nothing serious. A handful of minor inconveniences, mainly stemming from the guests in the North Tower." Her gaze flicked back to Elgin, "Where is Peeves now?"

"He's in the kitchen."

"Were you and Tily not able to redirect…"

Elgin's face became stormy, "The Baron told him to remain there till dawn."

Thin lips pinched as her voice became rigid, "Baron." Elgin took a step away from Minerva and then a second as she repeated his name, "Baron."

Hermione didn't know what to expect, but she quietly waited and wondered what they were waiting for. _Surely not the Bloody Baron,_ she mused, _Minerva barely spoke his name._ However, the very ghost arrived mere seconds later, "You summoned, Headmistress."

"Peeves was relegated to the kitchens till dawn?"

"He was devastating Slytherin's Common room."

"And the elves who are trying to prepare for breakfast this morning and having to contend with flying pots and spilled boiling water?"

"Perhaps not the most apt place to send him." The Baron admitted, "I shall have him leave at once."

He went to leave, but Minerva reached out touching his arm causing his body to resolidify, "Do remind Peeves that the elves are not under Hogwarts protection, but mine."

Hermione watched as the Baron solemnly nodded to what she could only describe as the formidable Headmistress before she lifted her hand and he vanished in the next instant. And almost as quickly Minerva turned back to Elgin, "See if Bonnie can spare two persons until Jinx and Milly are well. If she cannot, let me know, I'll send word to the staff that this next week the elves who personally assist them will be on rotation."

"Very well." His eyes flickered to the other occupant, question lacing yellow irises as he asked, "And…" his eyes finally coming back to Minerva, "will you be changing your schedule for the day?"

At the final question, Hermione watched Minerva briefly pause and then sigh as she reached up removed her glasses, "I'm afraid I shall need to. Will you ask Bonnie to deliver word to Percival and Audrey that I'll have breakfast tomorrow but am unable to make it this morning? And send word to Filius that I won't be at breakfast this morning, and will endeavor to make lunch, but shall be at the Manor for dinner. Reset the password for the Gargoyle to…" she thought for a moment, "Precious Moments and send it out to the staff after lunch and then close my floo to all but Helena for the day."

He gave a brief nod in acknowledgement, "Will that be all?"

"Also ask Bonnie if she will come by Hogwarts in," her eyes reverted back to Hermione, "what time do you believe you'll be up by?"

"Sunday and Gryffindor Tower, I'll be lucky to still be sleeping by ten."

Minerva frowned, "What time is it now?"

"I delivered your report at five-forty."

"Rather ask Bonnie if she'll be able to come by earlier afternoon and take Hermione to visit her father and the children."

Elgin's face instantly broke into a smile, "I am certain Bonnie would love too, as she has been stopping by the home daily." He turned to Hermione, "She'se has an affinity for the children."

"Like someone else I know." Hermione replied, gaze settled on Minerva who knew precisely what she was referring to.

"I'se ask her to come after Hermione is awake." Elgin stated, "Would you like any more tea or some breakfast before going to sleep?"

Hermione wanted to say yes, she was a bit hungry, but didn't. These weren't her rooms, and while she had become comfortable around Minerva, she wasn't going to overstep her bounds. Thankfully, though, Minerva replied similarly to how she felt.

"I could use a bit of something, if it is of no bother. Hermione?"

"Perhaps some fruit or toast. Not anything too heavy would be wonderful, Elgin."

"At once." He replied and was gone.

Hermione leaned incrementally forward, "So, if you call a ghost they come?"

Minerva's brow quirked as she relayed another benefit of being the Headmistress or the Deputy, "Yes, for either myself or Filius."

"But not Peeves."

Her lips pursed as she absently finished folding her glasses, "No. He hears the message, but has the ability to elect or ignore the summons. The ghosts, however, do not have that luxury. They are bound through the warding structure."

"Hence you use the Baron to help contain Peeves."

"On occasion," A tray laden with cut up bananas, peeled oranges, a mix of black and strawberries, three pieces of lightly buttered toast were halved and resting on a saucer, and a pair of sausage links upon another saucer with a fresh pot of steeping tea nestled in the center appeared on the table between the two women, "but there have been numerous times when I deal with Peeves. Though of late, he is more inclined to acquiesce with the Baron's request."

Hermione sensed a deeper meaning held within her statement, "Dare I ask why that is?" Hermione questioned while handing Minerva an empty salad plate.

"I believe he may have learned that it is far easier to deal with the Baron's request than mine."

The light breakfast matched the easy banter as Minerva regaled Hermione with a handful stories involving Peeves and some of her solutions to his less than savory or welcome behavior. Each story left Hermione breathless from laughter, thoroughly appreciating Minerva's dry humor along with the impish consequence she'd have placed upon Peeves.

"I can't believe…" she stifled her third yawn, "that you did that."

"He didn't come near me or the children for a month."

"I daresay not, after altering his appearance to a woman."

"That occurred shortly after my arrival as a Professor, after that particular incident, he never pushed regarding my children again." A gentile smile fluttered across her face, "Not even when they attended Hogwarts." Minerva noticed Hermione try to stifle another yawn, "I believe it is time we both retire for the evening."

"Perhaps for the morning," Hermione quipped while standing, "thank you for breakfast."

"Thank you for the company." Minerva replied as she too stood, fighting the desire to extend an offer to Hermione to remain within her residence for the morning.

"Do get some rest, Minerva." Hermione whispered as she forced herself to take a step away.

"You too." Minerva murmured and nodded to the red doorway that suddenly appeared opposite of Minerva, "Take the inner passages, my dear."

Hermione smiled at her thoughtfulness and took the half dozen steps to the door, pausing and turning back to see that Minerva had herself paused at her own door; both women momentarily holding the others' gaze, a warmth spreading across emerald eyes as the seconds lingered and then Minerva dropped her gaze and without glancing back once more, she entered her bedroom; leaving Hermione staring after her for another handful of heartbeats before she left Minerva's rooms.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"What about next weekend?" Rose asked unwilling to let her mum go yet.

"Yeah, what about it?" Hugo echoed.

"Say we can visit." Rose continued on.

"Yeah, visit."

Hermione stared at her son and daughter who were both staring up at her, wide-eyed. Waiting. And finally as one they both tried again, "Please…peeze."

Carl chuckled at his grandchildren's antics, "I believe your mother will come and get you for a visit."

Hermione glanced up to her father, "I…was going to come here."

"It'll be good for a respite."

Rose tugged on her mother's robe, "Will we be able to see Aunt Minerva next weekend too?"

"Máthair?" Hugo's questioned, eyes becoming almost as wide as Milky's.

"Máthair?" Carl repeated, questioning Hermione as to the meaning.

"He's taken to calling Minerva máthair." Hermione explained without the translation, concerned with how her father would react to his grandchildren calling a woman he hardly knew 'mother'.

"So can we?" Rose asked.

"Peeze!" Hugo exclaimed. "I miss her."

"Me too." Rose stated.

"I don't know if she'll have time next weekend, she is very busy."

"But we didn't see her before."

Hugo's big blue eyes tore at Hermione's heart as he added onto Rose's comment, "She's promised to see us."

"I'll ask her and send word this week regarding her availability." She said looking at her children and at seeing their respective mouths open, she immediately followed-up. "You know that she is very busy, and as much as she would love to spend the whole weekend with you, she is unable." Reluctantly they both nodded, prior to her asking. "Now, where's my hug and kiss before I go?"

Hugo lunged forward with his arms out, "You can't stay?"

"Not tonight, darling." She said as she bent over to pick him up.

"'Morrow?"

Hermione kissed his cheek, "Next weekend."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Anger pulsed off of Aegis as a deep scream was ripped from his throat, causing Michael to try and step forward and step between Aegis and Helena but he was too slow as he grabbed Helena by the shoulders and pushed her backward. "Damn you! How could you not save her?!"

Michael rushed after him, but as his hand stretched out to grab Aegis; his body was propelled backward.

Helena pushed her fear aside and ground her heels into the ground, causing Aegis' body to become flush against hers. "I am not God Aegis, for if I was, I would have taken your life when you almost took my daughter's."

"Is that why you didn't save my niece!?"

"I tried to, but she had already lost too much blood." Helena countered, "Donald caught her with an effusing curse."

Blue eyes sparked, "Donald…"

"Yes, Aegis." She waved Michael back, "Donald. Lucius managed to kill him, but not before his spell struck Narcissa in lower right side of her ribs along her abdomen; and the organs in the area."

He took a haggard breath, slowly backing up as he released her robes, head shaking. "She wasn't to be harmed."

"They were on the property when she reset the blood wards…"

His whispered question cutting across her commentary, "Will Lucius live?"

"Yes, but I will not know the long term ramifications from the injuries he sustained for several days."

"Long term…" Aegis tempered his grief by seeking more information, "how severely was he injured?"

"Six vertebrae in his lower back were crushed, his left lung punctured, spleen ruptured and I will not know if his spinal cord was compromised."

"Worse case?"

"He'll never walk again or have any mobility from his ribs southward." Helena's fingers darted out to prevent him from turning away, "Don't be foolish Aegis. No matter the pain, you need to bury it."

Blue eyes pinned her with undulated fury, "I'll bury him."

Helena's grip tightened, "You must wait or all of this is has been for naught."

"All of what?" He asked voice rising in pitch, "How many Aurors have died? Professors? Nigel? The Brunts? Even Aberforth? And Merlin the cost that Minerva herself has paid." His eyes sparkled, "And now Narcissa? When will it be enough?" He admonished. "How many more must die?"

"You think bursting into Johannes' encampment, wand blazing will do what exactly…other than kill you?"

"I'll have a better opportunity to kill him…"

"You are being foolish and selfish."

"As if you don't want me to die." He retorted.

Her eyes clouded over as her grip released, cadence dreadfully soft. "I hope to never see another person die within my lifetime, save Johannes."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie noticed that Minerva's gaze flickered to the clock, again. "Is there something we missed? Or that you should be at prior to Rory and George's arrival?"

Minerva's head whipped around, eyes the size of bludgers upon realizing that her actions had not gone unnoticed, "I…was merely noting the time."

Bonnie crossed her arms, "For the sixth time since arriving less than an hour ago?"

"And wondering," Minerva's countenance returning to normal, "how Rose and Hugo are?"

At this Bonnie's posture relaxed, arms falling to her side, "They were excited to see their mother this afternoon."

"Did she look as though she had gotten a few hours of sleep?"

"Rose appeared…"

"Hermione." Minerva quietly corrected, "She hadn't slept as of this morning."

"Milksy said she had only gone to bed just before 7, however, she was ready when I arrived by ten this morning. She looked more rested than she undoubtedly was."

"I should have asked her…" Minerva softly stated.

"Asked her?"

Minerva softly shook her head, "It matters not, Bonnie."

Bonnie's eyes flickered to the clock once, "She is still there, if you'd like to see her and the children."

"It is for the best that I don't this evening."

"I believe it better if you do spend time with Hermione." At Minerva's questioning look Bonnie continued," she eases the weight resting upon your heart and crushing your soul. I understand your bond with Albus, your love for him, but I also see how you look when she is near – how alive you have once again become."

"It isn't right that I have these feelings while still bound to Albus."

"And would you negate the feelings Rory has for his new lover, George?"

"Rory isn't dying."

"And do you think that would alter how George feels for him?"

"No, because he reciprocates Rory's feelings."

Bonnie couldn't help but shake her head at Minerva's comment. For she was one of the smartest witches of the age, could solve the world's most difficult problems but apparently even she was blind in some areas. "Did it ever dawn on you that perhaps Hermione is falling in love with you too?"

And by the slack jawed expression donning her Mistress' face, it seemed as though that simple notion had escaped Minerva's usually razor sharp deductive skills.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Effusing curse?" Marx reiterated causing Filius to turn to them, concerned etched across his features.

"Who was struck?" Yellow orbs questioned, "And did they survive?"

Hermione's gaze flickered past Marx to Filius, "Narcissa and no, she died this morning. However, I'm still at a loss as to what the curse does?"

Marx's voice turned as grave as Filius' features, "Depending on where the castor strikes the victim it can be very painful and deadly. It causes the veins to spill the blood into the body, to the point it will seep out through the person's skin."

Hermione's stomach rolled at the notion, "Is there a counter spell?"

Red eyes narrowed, "Perhaps, but I doubt more than a handful of healers would have the skill necessary to cast it."

"Would Helena?"

"When she's fully healed, she'd certainly be one of them." Filius answered, "Were you there?"

"No, but I heard word this morning." Hermione carefully responding, seeing the question buried beneath Filius' knowing gaze.

"Does Lucius know what happened to Narcissa?"

"I believe he was injured too and may be at St. Mungos."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Splinters sprayed throughout the room, calls ringing outward as Aegis killed his sixth man in as many minutes. Murderous blue eyes wielding his wand as if possessed, felling a seventh man without so much as a blink…as the man's life ebbed away a moment before his body collapsed to the ground dead.

"Where is Johannes!?" His rage billowing outward as a clattering sounded from the left side of the building, inevitably rushing towards him. "Give me him, and I'll spare the rest of you!"

"You are but one man." Andre uttered as stepped through the doorway, "Who will be nothing but a footnote when I am through with you."

"Leave him to me." Johannes stated, laying his hand upon Andre while drawing his wand. "Are you sure this is what you want, Aegis?" He asked as his tall lanky body moved around Andre. "As I will _kill_ you."

The rest of the men and women visibly flinched from the icy statement, except Aegis. "This ends, tonight." Aegis countered as he flipped the end of his wand to meet the oncoming curse. Mind vaguely wondering what Minerva was doing this evening, and if she'd even know what happened to him.

_ Because while he'd be able to best Johannes…_he spun the next jinx into ether, _he wouldn't be able to kill them all._

Their spells volleyed back and forth as the intensity of them ebbed and flowed; the spacious room lined with his followers – watching the deadly exchange.

"You're getting old, Aegis." Johannes taunted as he easily deflected the last foray of spells. "While ingenious and deadly, you haven't the stamina you need."

Aegis felt his protego charm buckle under the percussion of spells pinging off the charm; sweat running down his back as his mind churned through his vast knowledge of spellwork while tamping down Helena's haunting words of 'I told you, you were being foolish'.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Did it seem as though Minerva was preoccupied this evening?"

George slipped his shoes off, "No, she seemed fine. But I don't know her as well as you. And I think, that after everything from last week, she's probably still exhausted."

Rory sat down on the bench by his door, beginning to unlace his boots. "Probably so."

George paused, tipping his head as he peered at his lover. "Then what do you think it is?"

"I dunna know."

George reached over, gently laying his hand over Rory's. "Hey." He leaned closer, bending at his waist to be able to look into Rory's tumultuous grey eyes. "I know you know, and I understand not wanting to break Minerva's trust, but if you need to talk about it." He gently squeezed his fingers, "I'm here, love."

Rory didn't lift his gaze, "She was in a coma last week."

"Minerva?"

"Yeah…" Rory rasped, "for almost 24 hours."

_That didn't make the paper._ George thought, barely stopping himself from voicing it aloud. "But she's alright now, right?"

Rory remained unmoving and as the seconds passed, a sense of foreboding swelled in the pit of George's stomach; and it increased with each moment until he almost couldn't ask a second time. "Rory, is she alright?" He watched as Rory's jaw flexed, skin rippling across the overly tense muscles; and then finally…his head slowly and deliberately shifted, tears dribbling down his cheeks and George couldn't breath as his lover's face spoke of heartache but it was nothing compared to the hollow sound of his broken voice that pierced George's soul as he breathed out a harrowing, "No."

Blue eyes widened as he gasped.

As much as Rory wanted to divulge the whole truth, he settled for a partial one. Needing to ease the burden, even if it was only marginally. "She'll be dead before the end of this term year."

"Of Hogwarts?" George barely managed, "As in before June 1st?"

"Aye."

"The incident from last week, her coma…did it expedite her illness?"

Seconds ticked by as blue met grey, "It didna help." Rory finally whispered.

George laced his fingers over top and through Rory's, "Why? What's killing her?"

Rory felt his mouth open to answer, and did the only thing could to stop himself – while at the same time, answering George's question through his actions as his lips covered George's.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva draped her outer robe over the end of the bed, absently answering Albus' questions regarding the evening. And how Rory was; along with George.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She said while pulling the covers down.

Albus waited a heartbeat, and after the third one, he realized that she was in her own world. "What are you mulling over, my dear?"

Minerva's gaze finally lifted up that of her husband's portrait, "Just…ruminations of the last week."

"You don't have to lie or dodge me, Minerva." Blue eyes sadly pulled his glasses away from his face, "Even regarding Hermione."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Aegis felt his knee cap slam into the wooden floor as he willed his body to remain upright despite the percussion from the latest curse slamming into his protego charm as he wandlessly cast a spell with his left hand causing Johannes to fall backwards. Aegis pulled his rage from his soul to propel him forward, creating an opening for him to cast the killing curse.

The green bolt spiraled towards its destination. Eating the life from the air, and he couldn't help but think it was worth it.

All of it.

Even though half of his ribs were broken, part of his chest ruptured, along with his hip; not that Johannes had faired any better.

And in another heartbeat, he'd be dead.

And…Minerva would be able to enjoy the last of her life…

The green bolt splintered apart, making way for a white colored spell…which Aegis saw at the last moment and he placed his hands before him. He felt the magic reverberate off his flesh into the very marrow of his bones as his body was propelled backwards; the air rushing from his lungs from the impact.

And everything hurt.

He tried to breath.

To move.

His mind sluggishly telling him to find his wand as he forced his eyes open to see the bleary lines of a bloody man looming over him. He opened his mouth as his fingers continued searching for his wand.

"Is this what you are looking for?" Johannes asked bringing Aegis wand to the forefront so the broken wizard could see.

A bloody smile passed over Aegis' face, "You…think you've…won?"

"Say hello to your niece," Johannes replied as he brought his wand up.

Aegis snapped his left hand at his wrist, his second wand jumping into waiting fingers…

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"Don't tell me that you _want _to hear about her."

"I never said that I wanted to hear about Hermione, but I want to be here for you; even if that means listening about her."

"This morning…" understanding dawning upon her, and the feelings she had felt emanating from their bond, "you asked Hermione to stay."

"Yes."

Exasperation laced her features, "Why would you do that?" Her voice jumped three octaves.

He let her anger wash over him, "Because I can't be there for you, and as difficult as it is for me, she can be."

"Even though I'm falling in love with her?"

"Even though…" he breathed out in a whisper, "because right now, you need her."

Tears began blurring her vision, "Albus…"

"It's true, and you know it. As do I."

She let her head fall back onto the pillows as she stared up at the ceiling, defeat ringing in her thick contralto. "But it doesn't mean I've accepted it."

"There's no shame in loving someone, Minerva."

"How can there not be? As I'm bound…to you; and not only that, but dying. Correction, according to Helena and Adam; I'll be dead within weeks."

"Then don't fight it any longer."

Her voice softly responded, barely drifting past her lips. "It wouldn't matter if I did."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	100. Chapter 95 February 3rd, 2010

**Chapter 95 ~ February 3****rd****, 2010 (Wednesday)**

_Despite casting the countering spells and the coagulant, rivulets of blood trailed down her fingers as parched lips fought for another breath._

_ "Don't die on me," Minerva pleaded into the still air, death upon it as it loomed ever closer preparing to take another._

_ Fear lacing her normally serene features as the woman processed the extent of her injuries, "I can't feel my legs…or see…you."_

_ "You'll be fine," Minerva tenderly countered, "just hold on."_

_ "I don't think…" a heavy rasp filled the space between them, "thank you for all that you have done and tell Lucius…I…love…"_

_ "…eulogy to be del_ivered by Minerva McGonagall."

Minerva's fingers tightened on her walking stick as she moved to the front of the gathering to speak at another funeral. One, she had never expected she'd ever see. But the casket lying to the left indicated how wrong she had been. Without thought, she reached into her cloak to remove her glasses while leaning her walking stick against the makeshift podium. Less than a minute later, the notes she had written were displayed before her and as she lifted her gaze up…and she can't help but to pause.

_ How many of these faces will be here in less than a month for me?_ She morosely thought for a heartbeat before her own heart began lifting despite the circumstances at the sea of faces greeting her, and without looking down; she couldn't help but to begin. Not as she had written, that would come later; instead she spoke from her heart enumerating how far they had come. "The house that divides us, shall dwell within a school that'll unite us." She reached up taking her glasses off, "No truer statement can be uttered as I look upon those gathered here today to remember and pay respects to Narcissa. As I see Unity not only in the children who attend Hogwarts, but it is apparent that it stems from their parents who are before me today."

She replaced her glasses, eyes taking in the words sketched upon the parchment before letting her eyes land upon Draco. "Many words could be used to describe Narcissa throughout her lifetime; from brilliant to beautiful, cunning to calculated, elegant and refined, to the one that outshines them all but only those who were closest to her would even know – family was everything to her. And her love for her family, saved them, along with wizarding world as she saved Harry Potter…"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena removed her gloves as Jayne bustled into her office, "Here's the Doe's from McFayden."

Helena eyed the folder, "Isn't Sterling here?"

"He won't return until this coming Tuesday from vacation and before you ask, Elissa and Quince are both out too. Elissa is in the States giving a symposium and doesn't return till Friday afternoon to England, and Quince left yesterday…"

"I know," Helena said with a sigh, "I ordered him to leave and go be with his daughter. I just hate going through the Doe list."

_Like I don't know that,_ Jayne wisely kept her comment to herself, "Do you want Michael to go through it…"

"He can't." She muttered, "He isn't blimey old enough."

Jayne took a measured step back, "There is a fresh carafe of coffee on your table, will you need anything else?"

Helena sighed as she flipped open the folder to look at the first of several dozen faces that James had sent over from muggle hospitals to ensure that any of the unclaimed bodies weren't wizarding folk. "Please tell me Elissa will be here on Sunday."

"You'll only have to do this today and Friday. I've already asked Elissa to come in for an hour to go through the reports."

"You're a saint," Helena said as she grabbed her glasses from her desk, "any other travesty happen while I was away?" She inquired while putting them on, folder open but focus upon her assistant.

"Nothing significant. Michael is conducting rounds on the trauma ward and will not be up here for at least another forty minutes, but he asked that you contact an acquaintance whom you know is O negative; as Lucius will need a transfusion before the end of the day."

"Yes, well," Helena sighed, "that will be a problem."

Jayne's brow furloughed, "I don't…"

"It's Minerva." Helena divulged.

"And why is that going to be a problem?" Jayne asked still not understanding how asking Minerva to come to St. Mungos was going to be difficult.

"She hasn't been well, herself."

"The incident a little over a week ago." Jayne said more to herself than aloud.

Helena glanced up to Dilys, "Has Minerva returned from the funeral?"

"Only just." Dilys stated, "She is upon the grounds but has not returned to her office."

Helena closed the manila folder, "I'll look at these when I return." Helena said happy to forestall the inevitable for a few moments longer as she laid it upon her desk and opened the door to retrieve her worn leather medical bag – which had seen far too much use of late. "If you need me, I'll be Hogwarts visiting with a friend."

"Helena," Jayne said interrupting her gathering, "I still don't understand why this is a problem, surely you know others who are O negative?"

"Others, yes." Helena grabbed her cloak, "However, she is one of the few who I know who Lucius will consent to their blood status; because he'd rather die than accept a muggle born's blood."

"Surely you jest." Jayne countered.

Blue eyes became cold, "I wish I had been."

"Then…why not just go ahead and let him die." Jayne muttered more to herself, than to Helena, but the astute woman heard it nonetheless.

"Because all life, even his, is sacred." Helena answered.

Jayne's face twisted, "While you may believe that, I can think of some peoples' lives who aren't."

"Jayne…"

"No, don't try to sway me, Helena. Because you can't stand there and argue that the Dark Lord's life was sacred, or Phillip's…or anyone else who tries to cause another harm." She shook her head, "No, I can't…I won't believe that." She met Helena's startled expression, "That's why I'm not a healer and you are; because I'd let Malfoy die and you won't."

Helena opened her mouth, wanting to tell her assistant how wrong her belief was regarding Lucius. How he had saved her dearest friend…how he was one of the reasons Johannes had been kept at bay…but she couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to. "Well," Helena felt the words she had uttered to Aegis only days ago ringing in her ear about patience. "I am very glad that through whatever circumstances occurred that are paths crossed and you are my assistant."

Jayne had been prepared to argue back her point with the stubborn, head strong Administrator and was left gaping at the rare and moving compliment.

"However, just a point of clarification, in that your views will not interfere with your job nor mine in the future?"

"Ahhh," Jayne shook her head, "no. Never."

"Then it's settled." Helena stated while walking over to the fireplace, "I'll be at…"

"Hogwarts." Jayne finished with Helena. "I got it."

Helena reached into the floo pot, "I know." She said with a knowing smile before she threw the powder into the floo. "Headmistress of Hogwarts." And without waiting for the flames to fully turn green she stepped into the fire and was gone.

"How the hell does she do that without getting burnt?" Jayne muttered.

Dilys eyed the younger woman, head tipping to the side, "Magic, dear."

Jayne glanced up to the revered woman, whose portrait held an impish smile at the moment, "No shit." She replied, "And here I thought it was a potion."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Gawain watched as Arthur set the report down, "But the fire was put out before it spread further into warehouse district?"

"It looked to have been started magically, but the area appears vacant and without reason..."

"Or for reasons we do not yet know."

"Because the area is owned by a muggle, their government has begun to clean up the location but they'll send over a final report."

Arthur slid the file into his pending drawer, "Do we know when?"

"Tomorrow or Friday. Structurally, it's pretty unstable, so the muggles will have to move slowly to clear the area out."

"Was there anything else?" Arthur asked as he glanced at his appointment book to see how late he was already running behind. At the absence of a response, Arthur's eyes snapped up, to see a note of hesitancy still upon the Head of the Auror department's features, "Gawain?"

"It's referencing your son."

Defeat laced Arthur's shoulders as he leaned back, "If it's about moving him out of your division again, the answer hasn't changed."

"Actually, I wanted to let you know he was the one who did the detective work regarding the buildings and helped prevent the fire from spreading further yesterday." Gawain stood, "I figured after having to hear nothing but consternation regarding his actions of late, you'd probably like to know."

Arthur's lips pulled slightly towards the beginning of a smile, "Thank you Gawain." He stood with the other man, "I may have needed that."

Gawain shook the Minister's outstretched hand, "He'll come around, Arthur."

"Tell the division to be careful," Arthur said by way of farewell, pausing before he walked to his door to call in…his eyes dropped down to see who the next appointment was, and felt the smile fall away at having to speak with Alayah Aves and the appointment of a new Governor in his stead.

And the importance of a new Governor of Hogwarts as they'd be charged with selecting a new Head of Hogwarts, and the reason behind it…shred his moment of hope.

* * *

Xoox

* * *

Helena carefully withdrew the needle, "Still alright?"

"Fine," Minerva stated as she flexed her hand as Helena capped the blood bag off, "I was going to have a late lunch if you'd care to stay."

"I'd love to, but…" her voice trailed off, as the woman overrode the Administrator for a moment, because how many more afternoons would she be able to spend with Minerva.

Minerva inadvertently winced as she stood, "But," She began to finish for Helena as she looked towards her, "St. Mungos calls."

Helena shook her head, "It can wait." She set the bag of blood down while casting a cooling spell on it to maintain until she left to go to St. Mungos. "As I'm starving."

Minerva's brow arched, "Are you sure?"

"Quite," Helena said moving towards the staircase, "besides, I haven't spoken with you since this past weekend."

"Ahhh, now I understand." Minerva said as she began the laborious climb.

"You thought _I_ wouldn't ask." Helena vanished into the living area, "As if."

"I had hoped you had forgotten." Minerva breathed out as she crested the stairs, immediately noting where Helena was. "I don't think I'll have a glass."

"Oh, no you don't." Helena said as her hair flipped over her shoulder and she looked to the stairs, "You don't have any meetings this afternoon, and you can have one glass before you go to the Great Hall for dinner."

"Filius will be here within the hour and I don't…"

"Then I'll pour him a glass too." Helena said grabbing another tumbler, "As if he couldn't use one." She muttered.

"I heard that." Minerva said as she paused at the back of the chesterfield.

"Well of course you did, I said it out loud." Helena retorted, "Speaking of Filius, how is…"

"Lizza?" Minerva supplied with a frown at her, "And your feigned forgetfulness regarding their daughter lost its amusement a decade ago. Which she is, fine by the way."

"Have they any news as to who destroyed her home?"

"No, nor do I believe Filius or Pomona have told her that it was. I think they wish to keep her as buffered from the events here as possible."

"Understandable after William's death." Helena set the bottle and glasses down, "I'd give almost anything to have Jordan leave the country until this mess with Johannes is resolved."

"Have you asked her?"

"She insists that she'll be fine and is more worried about Harold and I, undoubtedly something similar to what you have heard from Tessa and Percival."

Minerva carefully sat, "Several weeks I asked Percival to leave with Audrey and their child, along with Tessa's children and he assured me that they would ensure the children were protected but that he and Tessa would help the Ministry capture or kill Johannes."

Helena chuckled at the irony, "Now they decide to be heroic."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione paused by Lily Michaels, "More upturn on your swish, Miss Michaels."

"Yes Professor." Lily said already gripping her wand to re-try.

"And remember that your wand should rest within your fingers, you don't want to choke its movements." Hermione softly expressed before continuing down the aisle.

She recalled how Miss Michaels had wanted to enlist in animagus training several months prior, and Minerva's sudden arrival and stalwart denial of the request. And after learning how her grades were in the other classes, she still couldn't help but wonder if the motivation was desire to learn about becoming an animagus or something else.

Because, while she'd never speak of it or acknowledge it, she had noticed the way Lily's eyes followed her about the classroom. Much like her classmate, Arthur Oakes', continued too.

As she corrected Mr. Rodney's pronunciation, she thought back to her time as a student and her actions. More precisely, if she had followed any professor with her eyes as some of her students did to her.

Filius, no. Aurora, no. Sybil, definitely not. Binns, no.

She rounded her desk, content with how the rest of the students were faring.

Lupin, no. Gildroy, yes.

She almost shook her head at her own foolishness regarding Lockhart, but her thoughts reverted back to her time in _this_ classroom and _its_ professor.

And the professor who was an incredible woman, and she found she couldn't answer entirely no when she was a student. Because as a professor, she demanded the eyes of the classroom as she spoke of magical transfiguration lore before the strict professor began the practical lesson with fluid ease making each person want to one day hope to be as good as her.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Bonnie appeared taking in the partially filled tumblers and remnants of food stretched out before the two women and Filius, "Tom sent word there was a fire at one of the old warehouses, it doesn't look as though anyone was hurt."

Minerva sat fully upright, "Do you know where?"

"He did not elaborate further."

A frown settled on Minerva's face, "The warehouses are charmed to prevent fire."

"If they are charmed to prevent fire, someone had to remove the charm making the act deliberate." Filius stated.

"And of concern." Minerva turned to Bonnie, "Please ask Tom to come to Hogwarts."

Bonnie nodded, "I'll bring him momentarily."

Minerva's gaze flickered to Filius, "Would you mind accompanying Tom to the warehouse?"

"Let me grab my cloak," Filius said standing as he turned to Helena, "and while I'm away, don't let her drink my glass."

Helena's hand went to her chest, "You wound me, fine sir."

"Right…" Filius said with a chuckle as he summoned the inner doorways, and with a partial wave he was floating and then gone as quickly as the loud crack rippled across the room to signify Bonnie had arrived with a guest.

"I told you I don't…" Tom turned to see Minerva standing before him as he finished in a hush, "have time."

"I am aware of your time constraints, Tom." Minerva softly stated, "However, the warehouses were warded when built with fire protective spells up the timber amongst a few other charms. Hence, a slight concern, as the fire had to have been deliberate."

"The Ministry passed it off to the muggle authorities last evening because they don't know you own it, Minerva. I wasn't notified until a few hours ago because it went through the office."

She heard the door behind her re-open, "Will you take Filius to the site?"

"I can already tell you what he will find, there are traces of magic littering the area, but the fire burned too hot to leave any trace patterns or spellwork."

"Johannes?" Helena questioned, standing too.

Tom's face showed his disbelief, "But why?"

"Financial loss." Filius countered.

"The warehouse hasn't been used in years. It's one of the ones Minerva closed during the last year with the Dark Lord."

"Does he know that?" Helena questioned, "As he wasn't involved with the family by that point. Perhaps he believes you are still utilizing that location."

"Possible, but not probable, as there is nothing there."

"No machines or barrels?"

"Some of the machinery remains and perhaps overflow storage, but otherwise, no."

"But to a lay person, would it not appear as a working factory?" Filius questioned.

"Yes," Minerva answered before Tom had an opportunity, she held up her hand, "because Johannes doesn't know the first think about a distillery. The more pertinent question is why attack now?"

"And why not the main factory?" Helena asked.

"It along with my homes are under a Fidelius Charm."

"But don't you have muggles working at the factory?" Confusion lacing Helena's face.

"We do, and when they tell their loved ones where they work there is a property with a mock factory that looks to be operational at the address they give them. Of course, they can't access the facility, as they aren't authorized personnel."

"When did you put that in place?" Helena asked surprised, "And how did you afford to do it?"

"We built the factory over a decade, starting in the early 80's and establishing it as a window dressing in '91. I didn't take a salary for the duration, re-routing it to the construction."

"Does Johannes know that the factory is a faux?"

"Yes, and he doesn't know where the plant is." Minerva breathed in response, "Hence back to my original question, why now?"

"Is there any tactical advantage to the area?"

Tom shook his head, "Nah, not in the slightest."

"Then why destroy the warehouse?" Helena reiterated.

"Reactivate the foundational wards to the property and reinstitute daily checks of everything that is going in and out of the factory." Her voice became steely, "Including the drivers and delivery trucks."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione raised her hand to knock on the door, butterflies swirling in the pit of her stomach at being able to see Minerva for more than a few minutes while at meals or in passing in the hallways.

"Come in." Minerva's distinct voice ringing through the doorway into the stairwell.

Hermione took a careful breath as she reached out with a surprisingly unsteady hand, and with a second breath she opened the door with a smile, "Good evening." She said while entering, immediately noticing that Minerva paused to glance up, a smile adorning rose-colored lips upon seeing her.

"Hermione," Minerva felt her hand draw to a stop, "how are you?"

"Hoping to bother you for a game of chess if you have time." Hermione stated as she neared Minerva.

"I…" She glanced down to the partially finished letter, knowing that she needed to answer Arthur and Alayah's questions including prospective persons who would be qualified to assume her position, but the last thing she wanted to do was speak of her replacement and solidify in writing her impending demise. "shouldn't." She admitted as she placed her quill into the blotter and splayed her fingers on her desk; bracing herself to stand. "But I could use the break."

Hermione's face broke into a grin, "Good."

"Ahh…so says the woman who doesn't have to finish my work." She said while standing.

"I'll finish yours if you teach for the rest of the week." Hermione quipped as Minerva stepped around the desk while removing her glasses.

"That sounds like a worthy wager." Minerva retorted, causing Hermione's eyes to widen.

"Alright," she said a little taken back by Minerva's comment, "I'm game." She cast a glance to the partially completed parchment, "Although, I think I'm getting the better end if I win."

Minerva palmed her walking stick, "Doubtful," she nodded to the bookshelf, "would you mind grabbing the board?" she asked beginning to walk towards the stairs feeling a wave of…resignation wash over her, and she paused to flash her husband a glance. They shared a long moment before he gave a solitary nod and strode from the frame.

"Why doubtful?" Hermione inquired while pulling the game off the shelf, "I figure, if I don't know the answer, it can wait until you're done with teaching my classes."

"I don't see how this is beneficial for me."

Hermione laughed outright, "Me either."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena rolled her neck, fingers upon her clavicle; it had been a long day. "Why don't you go home, I'll finish up." Michael said as he bit back his own yawn.

"Tempting," she mused as she drew to a stop by her desk, eyes scanning the piles upon it and letting out a groan at folder resting on top. "Dammit to hell," she dropped her hand to the folder flipping the top cover open.

"What?" Michael came up beside her, eyes narrowing at the picture of what looked like it was taken from the morgue.

"I can't go home, yet." Helena said pulling the picture nearer as she flipped open her glasses. "I need to get this done before I leave this evening."

"Is it something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, in roughly another forty years." She said turning the picture over, "We receive pictures every other day from all the hospitals across England to ensure that no witch or wizard died in a muggle hospital."

"The Doe list." Michael breathed, "I thought that was a myth."

"I wish it was." Helena muttered as she placed her glasses on.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva eased into the cushions, as Hermione sat opposite. "How were the children?" She questioned as both women began to set up the chess board.

Hermione's whole face lite up, "Well, and I swear they've grown another centimeter each since I've see them. And the house," she paused as a note of seriousness pulled slightly along her features, "I can't thank you enough. It's beautiful and spacious enough for father and the children; but not too large that he can't keep an eye on them."

"You can be white," Minerva said shifting the board, "and Carl? How is he?"

Hermione's hand hovered over the row of pawns, "Getting stronger every day. He's able to walk a half dozen steps without assistance, but still needs to use a cane for anything longer."

"I can relate." Minerva stated drawing a pinched look from Hermione causing her to elaborate as Hermione blindly moved her first pawn, "I was referring to the incident with the Stunners and my initial recovery."

"As much as it pains me to admit, I am sure your statement is true now as well."

Long fingers moved a black pawn, "Perhaps."

"Is there nothing that can be done?"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"I take it you, don't normally review the list?" Michael asked seeking clarification.

"No," Helena answered peering over the rims of her glasses, "that's part of Sterling's duties."

"Isn't she the oldest healer on staff?"

"She is." Helena succinctly replied.

"But there are dozens of healers older than you." Michael breathed trying to understand the process.

"True, however, only three who have been a healer longer than I."

"Not physical age but profession's age." Michael felt a weight settle along his stomach, "Because you would have likely seen most of the witches and wizards at some point during your tenure."

"Yes," Helena said as she refocused upon the top picture. "Do you think you can rustle up a pot of tea?" She lifted the photo, "As I'm going to be here a bit longer and could use the fortification."

Michael was already moving across the room, "You realize that you returned to St. Mungos and are not still within Hogwarts?"

"I don't see the relevance." She said eyes scanning the Doe's information; height, approximate weight, eye color and other physical characteristics.

"It'll just be tea without any additives." Michael quipped as he lifted the tea pot.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"No," Minerva candidly answered, "the pronunciation of the healing spell, while incredibly close was not quite correct and subsequently healed the region too well; hence the soft tissue continues to produce bone. And Helena cannea reverse it. To mitigate the effects, I have the bone chips removed, have the occasional massage by Pierre, take potions to stymie the pain, and use a cane."

Hermione finished moving her second pawn to e3. "What of phoenix tears?"

"Attempted." Minerva mirrored her move, letting her second pawn dwell on d6. "However, the area is fully healed."

"So much it's generating extra bone." Hermione said while formulating her next move.

"If Michael hadn't cast the spell prior to Albus' arrival, then I may not have the same problem."

"I believe you have an old time turner floating around," Hermione quipped as she decided to brazenly move her knight to h3. An entirely new approach, one that she hadn't tried before; but hoped its outcome was more favorable. "You could always try that."

"I'm afraid I'd be far too tempted to alter other events." Minerva softly replied.

Hermione's lips curled into a frown by Minerva's unexpected response to her coy remark. "I don't believe that."

"Why do you think I haven't gone back?" Minerva questioned.

"Because of the Ministry time travel laws which you drilled into my head as a student." Hermione stated as Minerva moved another pawn before replying.

"I wrote half of those laws, and while I believe in them; it does not mean that I would not be sorely tempted to alter Albus' fate and subsequently Esmerele's too."

"I can't believe you'd alter time, after everything…" Hermione's cadence was laced with disbelief.

"Why cannea ya not?" Minerva asked.

"I just...can't. As you would never…"

Penetrating emerald eyes met wide-eyed disbelieving brown ones, "I would."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Michael watched as she flipped the paper over to reveal another 'Doe' before turning the water off, "I wouldn't think many of the Doe's turned out to be wizarding folk."

Helena turned the picture, looking at the body of an elder man. "No," she stated noting the personal characteristics, "about one in a thousand."

"So perhaps three or four per year?" He cast a boiling charm on the water.

"Now," Helena re-glanced at the picture, "back with the Voldemort mess, it was a far higher occurrence."

"Five in a thousand?" Michael pulled two tea bags out as the steam wafted upwards.

"More like one in fifty." Helena muttered as she gave the information one final glance over, and then flipped the paper.

"I knew it had gotten bad, but there were that many wizards and witches being killed in muggle England?" Michael glimpsed towards Helena after a heartbeat without a response to see her staring at the next Doe's picture. He placed the lid on and started walking towards her, "Recognize someone?"

"I can't say," Helena shifted the picture around to the side, "the man's face was badly burnt."

"Are there other pictures or identifying scars that they included in the information?"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

The scant minutes following the quiet exchange were poignantly silent, both women lost in their own thoughts regarding time turners and what could have been. "I was hoping you'd have time to have dinner with the children and I one evening this weekend." Hermione finally stated, moving away from the tender topic.

Minerva felt herself nod as she counted days and subsequently weeks associated and what the current weekend was, and she immediately amended her previous silent consent. "It'll have to be Sunday evening, as I have…" she forced the next few words from her mouth, already dreading how she'd feel the coming weekend, "plans the other two evenings."

"Sunday it is." Hermione said with a warm smile, "The children will be delighted to see you."

"And I them."

Hermione slid her bishop of the board, "Unless breakfast would be better?"

Minerva's voice remained even as she replied, "I'm afraid not this weekend, perhaps next one. Unless they will be visiting Ronald."

Hermione's face darkened, "They are supposed to, but I am not going to depend on him to take them as Valentine's Day falls on the weekend; and knowing him he'll be unavailable on the 14th. So, I thought I'd bring the children here if he doesn't take them."

"He'll take them next weekend." Minerva stated with an air of certainty.

Hermione tilted her head ever so much, voice unusually light as she peered at the woman across the table, "Why do you continue to believe in him, and that he'll do the right thing time and time again even after he doesn't?"

"Ronald is a good man." Minerva engaged her king side knight, before meeting Hermione's gaze, "Sometimes he acts before thought, but his actions aren't malicious or intentionally hurtful. He might be slow to come to the realization but in the end, but he'll be there for you and those he loves."

"He's too busy dating Fresca or I saw yesterday morning that he went out with Lavender."

"Whether you and he ever reconcile," Minerva held up her hand and Hermione bit her lip to squelch her innate response to Minerva's statement, "know that he'll always love you, Hermione."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena felt her breath catch as she began reading the presumed weight, skin, and her eyes flashed back to the picture. "No…" she breathed as she narrowed her eyes trying to see more than what was there, to see past the burnt flesh and picture the man as a whole person. "No…" she softly repeated seeing a scar on his left clavicle as she stood.

"Helena…" Michael set the pot down on the corner of the desk, "what…?"

"I need to go to…" she scanned the upper corner, "Morges."

"I don't think we can just go…"

She strode from around the desk, the paper ensconced within her fingers as she barreled to the fireplace; face becoming whiter with each step. "Morges…" she rasped as floo powder littered her office and the fireplace before she vanished in green flames, Michael lumbering after her wondering what in blazes was going on.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"While we may love each other, we will _not_ be reconciling." Hermione's voice becoming laden with steel as she whispered a word of finality to her previous statement, "Ever."

Bonnie's softly uttered words from days prior came filtering to the surface, again. _Perhaps she is falling in love with you too._ And Minerva couldn't accept them, nor believe that there might be a gram of truth in Bonnie's statement – it would make the next several weeks even more unbearable than they already were. Instead, she focused her thoughts away from the alluring notion that her burgeoning feelings were being returned; and on the man whom Hermione had been married to, and with luck, after her passing – would be again.

Because he did love them. And he'd help to keep them safe.

"A lot can change with time."

"That won't." Hermione said momentarily abandoning the game as she met Minerva's gaze. "Perhaps it's because I've finally realized I don't want to be a house wife who has a perfunctory job with the Ministry in between raising the children. I _am _more. And I _want _more from my relationship and life than that." Brown eyes softened as did her tone, "Being here," she curtailed the words 'with you', "this year has brought back a passion I had for learning that I haven't felt since my days at Hogwarts. And I don't want to lose that. Instead, I want incorporate that into my life, to be able to make a difference again."

"Being married, even to Ronald, doesn't have to change any of those things."

"It doesn't have to, but it did with Ron." Hermione countered, "As he wanted what he had growing up for his children. A mother who is there morning, noon, and night."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Ma'am," the man jumped up after Helena, "you can't go in there." He ran after the woman, only to have his progress halted by the slender man accompanying her, "You aren't authorized," he softly finished.

Blond hair grazed her shoulders as she spun back to the muggle Michael was holding, "The burn victim from the storage fire," her eyes scanned the cold storage vaults, "which one is the body in."

"I, ah…" he swallowed as both Michael and Helena stared at him, "can't tell you. You aren't authorized."

Helena took the four steps closer, shoving the paper to within the man's field of vision. "This man." She held the paper there for a heartbeat, "Where is the body?"

"I can't…"

Helena's lips pinched and in a flash, a spell flourished from her wand as she brought it out from beneath her robes and the man crumpled to the floor unconscious.

"Helena, perhaps we should wait to speak with your contact in the muggle health system." Michael expressed as his eyes flashed to the muggle lying on the floor.

"He'll be fine," Helena stated as she turned back to the rows of cold storage vaults, "Accio Aegis." She said with a flourish, dreading the next moment as a stillness settled over the morgue. She felt a sense of hope rise within her chest only to have it shatter a moment later as the vault at the far end sprung open and a body began sailing through the air towards her.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Perhaps, but you worked at the Ministry." Minerva challenged, "Your sole occupation wasn't a house wife. You _had_ the opportunity to continue educating yourself; Ronald would not have stopped you. The more pertinent question is why you didn't?"

Hermione's face blanched at Minerva's remark, and as she struggled to find an answer; Minerva continued on.

"Because from our scattered conversations regarding Mr. Weasley, it is apparent that you _do_ love him. But it is equally apparent that _something _happened between you and he. Something that caused the spark and zeal to become muted as time wore on; and now that you've left it has begun to return. And you don't want it to leave, which selfishly I concur. As you are the most intelligent person I have met in a very long time; and given a little time, you'll be heralded as one of the greatest witches of all time and certainly of this age. However, the thirst for knowledge isn't contingent upon another but yourself; so I'll ask once more." Her brow arching slightly, "And I do hope to finally be told the truth as to why didn't you pursue what you believed in after the war?"

"Everything was so…ruined, broken – afterwards. Including me." Her voice sounding meek, "Between the rebuilding, the funerals, bringing my parents back and re-establishing them, somewhere I began doing what everyone expected of me. Part of the golden trio; Ron proposed and I said yes. But," she wanted to fidget and placed her right hand over her left, "I should have said no. We've never had a lot in common, but it was fresh and new and we were both committed to making it work. I suppose at some point, it became easier not to read; not to push, as I…" She held Minerva's gaze, "didn't have any one to share it with. Ron has never been overly intellectual and when I'd begin talking to him about the latest bit of research in transfiguration he'd try to listen but ultimately zone out. Shortly after that, the arguments started and some days it was just easier to concede than fight."

"And if he were to take an interest in what you like?"

Sadly she shook her head, "He did try, Minerva. That's what makes it so hard. We both did. But it wasn't meant to be and I'm alright with that. Because, I _want_ more than what I had." Her eyes bored into Minerva's as she quietly finished, "I deserve more than what Ron can give, and that might make a horrible person for feeling that way; but it doesn't change how I feel. I want to be able to be with someone who can stimulate not only my body but my mind too."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena's hand flew to her mouth as the charred remains of Aegis Black's body set onto the metal table. Blue eyes scanned the marred flesh of his hands, face; and finally looked to his left knee where she knew a distinct scar remained.

It had happened during their seventh year.

A row between he and Minerva that involved a breathtaking duel, landing them both in the infirmary and on the verge of being expelled. They had had to remain in the infirmary for a week as their injuries healed; but their duel had left the other with a lasting reminder. His an acute burn on his knee in the shape of a lion, hers a serpent along her left hip.

She moved the skin and knee to enable her to see; and her eyes burned as anger pulsed through her. "You damn fool!" She snapped.

"What?" Michael asked, aghast by the anger lacing her voice.

"Not you." She said, voice on the verge of breaking, "Him." She pointed to the corpse, "Damn." She willed the tears to remain at bay as her jaw clenched, head shaking, "Why the hell couldn't you wait?"

Michael drifted backwards, knowing not to interrupt as his mentor continued on her diatribe; and he tried to understand what she was referencing and _why_ she was so upset. After all, wasn't it a good thing to finally catch one of the men who broke out of Azkaban a few months ago?

"You decide to try and be heroic now? One against an army? As if…" Helena shook her head, "And now I have to tell her that you're dead as well. As if she hasn't suffered enough already." She stepped partially away, "You always were a selfish son of a bitch and you just have to keep proving me right. Well, this is one time, it would have been nice for you to have proven me wrong. Not that I can kill you again for what you are going to put her through with this;" she chortled, "because Merlin knows if I could bring you back, I would kill you again for being a selfish prick." She sighed, "Three weeks. That's all you had to wait, Aegis. Three blooming weeks and …" defeat ringing through her voice as the tears finally spilled off her lashes, "…Harold and I would have gone with you…"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Only decades of teaching enabled Minerva to keep her face from immediately flushing, because she was certain her body was; as she desperately tried not to think of how she'd like to do exactly what Hermione had suggested. Because it had been a line she hadn't permitted herself to cross, as she was still bound and she _would not_ permit herself to visualize even a kiss with the woman across from her. "I'm certain," her voice sounding thicker than usual, but she wouldn't clear her throat no matter her desire too, "you'll find someone who can and will accomplish both."

_I think I have,_ Hermione thought but stated something different, "I hope too." Minerva felt herself nod, as Hermione continued on, "But it won't be with Ron."

"Perhaps not, but I wouldn't discount him."

Hermione felt her back straighten, "Do you not realize how bad it was the last few years between he and I? And how I do not want to put myself back into that situation? We tried, it didn't work." She neared the edge of the chesterfield, as hint of frustration laced her words, "I want something more than I had with him. Why can't you get that?"

"I understand that you and he were having problems, but I also believe that some of those problems could be and still can be worked out."

"Worked out?" Hermione's voice rising in pitch, "Are you serious? Please tell me that you aren't."

Minerva's brow arched, "I do believe that Ronald will…"

"Will what?" Hermione's voice overriding Minerva's, "Be condescending to me? He's done that. Not like the friend's I'm making, and that does include you by the way. He's already voiced that, in every way imaginable. What precisely do you think he'll do? Sweep me off my feet?" She threw her hands up as she stood.

"If you both are able to get over the resentment, then yes, I do." She stated in equal fervor while standing too.

"Not going to happen," Hermione barked, "after all that he's done and not done. There is too much between us."

"And how much of that is truly insurmountable?"

"Pick one," she snapped back, as tears pulled against her eyes, "when he slept with another woman before we were divorced; left our children alone at a professional quidditch game to spend time with said woman…"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Helena finally turned, blinking at seeing Michael standing a few meters behind her. Her mind churning through and trying to determine how long he had been standing there. "Ahhh," she cleared her throat, "please have this body taken to St. Mungos and have them start on the autopsy, immediately."

Michael nodded, "Are you alright?"

"No," Helena answered honestly, "I have a notification I have to do."

Michael began moving, "I'll do it."

Blue eyes instantly hardened, "No, not this one." She reached out, gently touching his arm, "I'll do it. Just start the autopsy."

Michael didn't have a chance to respond as she spun on her heel and was gone in a flash, "I didn't think there'd be any notification with his death." He stated to an empty cold room, eyes flashing to the charred remains.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Neither woman hearing the fire flash in the office as Hermione continued on, "Or perhaps it started earlier;" trails of tears were slipping off her lashes, "much earlier, and I couldn't handle my husband wanting me to cover my scar so as to not bring up old memories or the truer unspoken reason in that he was ashamed of it when he was supposed to support me too."

Nor did either woman hear the muted calling of a name from the office as Minerva managed to somehow overcome her shock, "What scar?" she breathed out, eyes searching across Hermione's body and trying to recall where the scar would be and when she'd have gotten it.

Brown eyes read sincere green ones, "You don't know do you." She chuckled at the irony, "Despite having seen my memory of the night at Malfoy Manor and having read the report, I figured you'd be the one person who did."

"Your forearm," Minerva easily recalling the gauzed area from the memory, she reached as she stepped around the coffee table, grabbing Hermione's fingers. "What," she paused as their eyes met, "is it?"

"You won't see it and it doesn't matter." Hermione went to jerk her arm and hand from Minerva's grasp only to find it remained.

"It does." Minerva gently murmured, "To me."

Hermione didn't know what to say as she met the heartfelt expression, "Bellatrix etched…"

"Minerva," Helena breathed as she crested the stairs, and felt the air rush from her lungs at seeing who else was there. And the way Minerva tenderly held Hermione's wrist, it was apparent _something _of importance was being discussed; as their chess game seemed to have been momentarily abandoned. But it was too late, as first brown eyes fixed upon her and Minerva turned and from the expression sweeping over her face, she knew.

"Who?" Minerva whispered a feeling of dread already pooling in her stomach as she thoroughly took in Helena's ashen features as she dropped Hermione's wrist and took a step closer.

"A body from the fire." Helena began as she stepped farther into Minerva's living room.

"Fire?" Hermione frowned, thankful to be discussing something not so personal. "As in the one from the other day in the warehouse district?"

"Helena," Minerva could see the red lining her normally blue irises, "who?"

Helena glanced to Hermione and then back, "Are you sure?"

Minerva immediately knew from Helena's flickering gaze that it was a personal acquaintance of hers as Hermione's worried voice spouted out in the suddenly still room.

"It wasn't Harry or…one of the Weasleys was it?"

"No," Helena whispered as she kept her eyes upon Minerva, "it wasn't."

Hermione prayed it wasn't the highlander, "Or Rory?"

Helena shook her head in answer to Hermione's question as Minerva's hand slowly made its way to her mouth as soulful emerald eyes asked the question without a word, and mutely Helena nodded.

Hermione heard a light gasp come from her left, as Minerva's frame shook while her eyes closed and tears splashed downward. Not yet understanding who had died, if not Rory, but it didn't matter; it was obviously someone Minerva knew and cared about. Before Helena could cover the final steps separating them, Hermione was already enfolding her arms around Minerva.

And as Minerva didn't move her arms from her face, Hermione momentarily thought she had been wrong; that she hadn't been _that _close to the person who died…until she heard the strangled gasp and heartfelt sobs coming from her. Hermione glanced to Helena who was standing barely a meter away, her jaw flexing as she watched her dearest friend until she slowly lifted broken eyes to meet Hermione's. The question as to who had passed still evident in mocha orbs as Minerva's body continued shaking from the silent tears; and Helena mouthed the person's name and Hermione felt even her shoulders momentarily sag.

Aegis Black was dead.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: As always, I hope you enjoyed!_

_Ohh…for those who think this story stops on February 25__th__, while the notion has merit (it would save a fair amount of writing) the story is slated to go until the end of the Hogwarts School year – i.e. June. And how does that equate to Hermione and Minerva - ? Loss, angst, heartache, love, another date, a hint of laughter and more angst – but not necessarily in that order._

_The only other promise I will make regarding the outcome, is that all the characters portrayed in the epilogue of The Deathly Hallows who are on Platform 9¾ will be alive as I've tried to keep this story canon compliant with the books (or as close to compliant as possible). Don't I know how many DH books are being pulled off the shelves tonight ;) _


	101. Chapter 96 February 4th, 2010

**Chapter 96 ~ February 4****th****, 2010 (Thursday)**

Minerva shifted, moaning as she did; her body against something solid and warm but her neck…was stiff. And she pulled back, blinking her eyes open to a world of momentary darkness before they adjusted and she realized she was in her living room.

Frowning, she finished pushing herself upward to see a hand fall from her waist to her hip; and at once her eyes traced up the fingers, the arm to hear her own breath catch at the slumbering woman lying next to her.

Hermione.

Without thought, she reached out and gently brushed her cheek, wishing she didn't notice how soft the skin was; but it was like trying to believe that Hermione wasn't beautiful. Neither was true.

"My dear," Minerva gently cleared her throat, and forced herself to use Hermione's name and not the endearment she wished to repeat again. "Hermione." She dropped her hand from the soft skin to Hermione's shoulder, "Hermione." She repeated with a gentle shake, "Hermione."

Hermione's eyes fluttered, "I'm…" forcing her eyes to focus, and at seeing the dark figure standing up, "Minerva." She shifted as she willed away the overbearing fatigue.

"I don't think it would do for either of us to sleep here for the whole of the night."

Hermione wondered how Minerva could see to move around, and she couldn't help but groan as she fully sat upright, her back wanting to catch from how she had laid for who knew how long. A soft light suddenly came on from Minerva's bedroom, followed by the door opening and a haggard looking Minerva peering out from beside it.

"Come lay down or I can have Elgin take you to your rooms."

Hermione stood, "Are you alright?"

"I'm tired." Minerva replied, a note of finality to her voice regarding Hermione's question.

"Minerva…" She started but the woman merely gave a barely susceptible shake of the head.

"Please," she finally whispered, defeat lacing emerald eyes, "not tonight."

Hermione replied as she came to a stop beside Minerva, seeing the borderline vapid irises staring back at her she found herself going against her initial thought of returning to her rooms. "If you don't mind, I'll take advantage of your decadent bed."

Minerva shifted, fully opening the door before striding to the far side of the room where she grabbed her robe and a change of clothes from the bottom of her bed before setting her wand down and vanishing behind the bathroom door.

At once her eyes flashed to where Albus' portrait was, but the canvas was vacant. "Figures, when I need him…" she whispered while pulling her wand from the depths of her robes, and with a softly uttered spell, her attire morphed into a pair of lounge pants and a long sleeved shirt before she set her wand down on the table and reached for the door handle – and paused. Go. Or wait.

She dithered for several seconds before taking a deep breath and willed herself to open it. She heard the water running, and ignored it as she proceeded to Albus' side of the bathroom and relieved her own bladder. Minutes later she exited the doorway to find the only light stemming from the lamp beside where she'd be sleeping. Instantly, her eyes glanced over to the other side of the bed, Minerva's form was nestled beneath the covers facing the far windows. Gently, she slipped under the sheets and turned the light off.

The seconds drug by, and Hermione began wondering why she had said she'd stay as she stared into the darkness. She should have left.

"The scar on your arm, why does Ronald want you to hide it?"

Hermione instantly turned to Minerva, shifting so she was lying on her side, "What?"

Minerva didn't move as she softly repeated, "Your scar."

"It doesn't matter."

"As I said earlier," the tenor in her voice becoming softer, "it does to me."

"And I'm concerned about you in regards to finding out about Aegis."

"We'll need to go to his home on the morrow to see if he left any clues before he was killed."

"Minerva…"

"Leave it for a few more hours, if you could." Minerva murmured, "I just…don't want to think about the repercussions this evening or I shan't get anymore sleep, and I do need a bit more."

"And you'd rather talk about my scar?"

Despite herself, Minerva turned her head to partially look at Hermione. "Merely seeking understanding. From the memory I witnessed, your arm was wrapped in gauze upon my arrival. I apologize for believing the injury to have occurred before you were caught and taken to Malfoy Manor."

"It happened with Bellatrix and her zeal to question me."

Minerva shifted onto her back to ease the strain upon her neck as she questioned, "What did she do?" Almost afraid to hear the answer, knowing full well that Bellatrix was many things – unstable being the most notable characteristic.

"Asked about Harry's whereabouts in between the cruciatus curse."

Minerva's right hand inadvertently grabbed the edge of the sheet and balled it into her fist, "How many times?"

"I lost count." Hermione whispered in response. "The pain ripped through me till I couldn't breathe and she'd start let go before starting again."

"The initial stress cracks along your back."

Hermione nodded into the blackness, not knowing that Minerva could see her, but not able to agree aloud.

"And then she scarred your arm?" Minerva gently prodded.

"She did it between the cruciatus curses, taunting that I'd break because I was a mudblood and she'd carve it into my arm for the world to know that Harry's mudblood friend betrayed him."

Minerva felt her heart catch as she willed three torches around the room to ignite and she released the fabric clutched within her right hand while she fully turned on her left side. With great care, she pulled the blankets down to uncover Hermione's arm before glancing up to Hermione – their gazes locking. "Please, let me see."

Hermione's pulse pounded in her chest as Minerva's right hand gently touched her wrist to spin her arm over, "It's old and…"

"Don't." Minerva's cadence holding a tremble that mirrored the one in the pit Hermione's stomach as long fingers twisted her wrist as their eyes locked and she slowly began pushing up Hermione's sleeve. "Please, don't hide whatever it is…" she murmured at seeing Hermione's anxiousness rising in conjunction with her sleeve making its way towards her elbow.

She could feel the air touching her skin without looking as she met dark irises, and she swallowed her fear. "Revelio…" she breathed out as she felt the long held tears burn against the back of her eyes.

"You keep it hidden at all times?" Minerva asked, still not looking away from Hermione's wide eyes.

"Only Ron knows what it says."

"Harry?"

"After we left and went to Shell Cottage, with Dobby's death, and everything else; I didn't want to make it any harder."

"And your parents?"

"By the time they returned from Australia…" her voice catching, "I was used to hiding it."

Minerva didn't move her gaze, "May I see it?"

"Just…" Hermione's head tipped a fraction of a centimeter as her voice caught, "no pity, alright?"

"No pity." Minerva reaffirmed eyes still remaining fixed upon Hermione's until slowly, reverently…Hermione nodded her head as she took a deep breath, and Minerva finally let her eyes fall to see what Hermione had revealed to her.

And her heart froze at the word carved into Hermione's forearm for the world to forever know of her perceived blood status as a mudblood.

The scarred skin had long since faded, and while the word was easily noticeable, it wasn't an angry red as it undoubtedly had been years prior as the flesh healed. Healed without the aid of healers to attempt to undo the cursed wound, leaving behind the marred flesh and hurtful word – mudblood.

She wanted to touch the area, to let Hermione know that the word and the scarring didn't bother her; but she didn't trust herself. So she consoled herself by letting her thumb trace across the inside of Hermione's wrist in a soothing motion while lifting her eyes back to Hermione. "Never feel that you have to hide it from me, again."

"I'll try." Hermione breathed.

"Please do." Minerva's burr rumbling between them, and despite having wanted to maintain her distance, she felt her fingers release Hermione's wrist and slip over her arm to draw the younger witch closer to her. At seeing the tears slipping quietly off short lashes, her fingers threaded through brown hair and she drew Hermione into her embrace. Gentle sobs wetting her shirt as fingers slowly, but forcefully wrapped around her waist and clutched at her night shift as the anguish poured from the bleeding wound of her soul, finally being permitted to cleanse itself and heal as sure fingers brought comfort and solace. Minerva's head tipped downward a heartbeat to kiss the top of Hermione's head as she let her own tears quietly join in time with Hermione at what she lost this evening and what the woman before her had lost all those years prior.

* * *

oxoxo

* * *

Elgin appeared beside the bed, expecting to see Minerva awake and instead stood dumbfounded at the sight before him. Minerva's arms wrapped tightly around what looked to be the Madame Hermione, whose face was buried in Minerva's neck, her arm draped over Minerva's waist.

He stood there for a solid minute, unabashedly staring, and it wasn't until he heard a soft moan that he managed to rouse from his momentary stupor. At once, he snapped his head to the right, eyes instantly looking at his Master's portrait to find it strangely empty. He paused unsure what he should or shouldn't do, as it was important to wake her because of the time it now took her to ready in the morning. However, he also knew that she was not sleeping well, and definitely not this late into the morning.

With an unsteady hand he reached outward, wishing it had been Tily's morning to wake Minerva. And he'd have to speak with Bonnie to see if she knew of what was going on with the Mistress and Madame Hermione, as the Mistress was still bound to the Master.

Shaking his own musings, he gently touched Minerva's shoulder, "Mistress, it is time to wake."

She replied, "Another hour Elgin." Minerva shifted deeper into the warmth surrounding her.

"You must wake." Elgin restated as his knobby fingers squeezed her shoulder.

Her eyes blinked as she breathed in the sweet almond scent, arms inadvertently tightening before she realized who lay within them…her burr rumbling in realization, "Hermione."

"Mmmmhhmmm…" Hermione shifted against the soft warmth, relishing in the sensation as her brain sluggishly awoke to the decadent lavender aroma blanketing the air with strong arms wrapped securely around her. Her mind already knowing whose arms she was within, and she loathed moving from them. "M…inerva?"

"Good morning," she whispered, not wanting to remove her arms from Hermione's softness, but knowing that she must lest she do something inappropriate and so, with reluctance she disengaged her arms. "I'm sorry for waking you, but I have need to get up."

"Are you…alright?" Hermione murmured, immediately noticing the lack of warmth as she opened her eyes to see Minerva's arms withdrawing as the elder witch slid back slightly.

"Quite, it is merely time to wake." She said while clearing her throat, "You are welcome to remain, and I am sorry for having woken you."

"Minerva..." Hermione's hand caught Minerva's fingers, their eyes meeting, "thank you."

"Same goes," she said with a gentle squeeze before relinquishing her fingers and grabbing her robe while standing and entering the bathroom without a backward glance. Not wanting to see if Hermione's eyes had remained upon her, too afraid that they had and what that would mean, but equally afraid that they hadn't and the woman who had felt so right in her arms wanted nothing to do with her as anything more than a friend.

* * *

Xoox

* * *

Hermione glanced up as the door to Minerva's room opened, and Minerva finally exited her chambers. "Coffee?"

Minerva stopped short in her doorway, "Hermione…" she recovered almost instantly at seeing that Hermione had remained, "I would love some. Thank you."

Hermione reached over and lifted the coffee pot, "You mentioned something earlier about going to Aegis' home today?"

She tried not to lean on her walking stick too much before she settled into the chesterfield, "Yes," Minerva softly replied, "if you have time after your classes this evening."

Brown eyes scanned emerald, "Would you like to leave before or after dinner?"

"Prior to," Minerva answered, "as it may take some time to enter the estate." She took the cup from Hermione.

"Why do you believe you'll be able to access it?"

"Because if not, then the last several months have been for naught as was Aegis' death and after everything I refuse to believe that."

"I'd have thought his estate would have been forfeit while he was incarcerated."

"It would have had to have been found to be forfeit."

"Wouldn't he divulge his holdings? I thought that was part of the sentencing process."

"His property was warded and the Ministry never found its location."

"But you know where it is?"

"I did." Hermione's lips pursed causing Minerva to elaborate, "However, that was when I first returned to England and before we permanently went our separate ways."

"And now that he is dead, the warding should be lifted?"

"Should be, but that doesn't mean that the wards haven't reverted to his named heir."

"I didn't think he had children."

"A son who lives in the Americas."

"Then you know him?"

"His son is older than Percival by five years, but he retained his mother's surname at Cedrella's behest as she didn't want her nephew to become part of the noted Black family, and neither did Aegis."

"What? I thought he was a Black through and through."

Minerva sipped her coffee, "He wanted something different for his son, especially as his mother was a squib. After we went our separate ways, he met Joslyn and apparently she looked similar to I. Things progressed quickly and she became pregnant, before he truly realized why she didn't practice magic but knew of our world."

"And what of his son? Was he a squib too? And why wasn't he ridiculed for not marrying a pure blood."

"You misunderstand, while I believe he did love her, and she wanted for nothing, they did not marry nor ever truly live together. Edmund attended Hogwarts, was sorted into Hufflepuff and became one of the most noted Defense professors in America and currently teaches at the Salem Institute."

"Does he know of you?" Hermione edged closer, voice softening.

"As his Aunt, and we see each other bi-annually when I travel to the Americas."

"He hasn't returned to England?"

"Not since before the first war, at its cusp he sent both Edmund and Joslyn away, not wanting his son to be involved in the coming storm."

"And did he warn you?"

There was a long pause as Minerva recalled their heated conversation.

_"You must leave, Minerva. It is not safe here any longer."_

_ "I will not, Scotland is my home."_

_ "And when they come for you?"  
_

_ Her face hardened, "Then they come." Eyes widening as she realized how he knew of this rising, "Don't tell me you've partnered with them." She reached out grabbing his robe, "Aegis?"_

_ "I will never harm you in battle nor your family, but others shall come for you and all that you hold dear."_

_ "Then I implore you to leave."  
_

_ "I cannot."  
_

_ Her fingers released his robe, palming it before sliding up his neck to cup his jaw, "You can."_

_ He reached up, placing his fingers atop hers, "I missed my opportunity at another life when I let you leave and I didn't find a way to get you back, my love."_

_ "There is still time for you, and your family."_

_ Blue eyes melted, "I've sent Edmund and Joslyn to America and I would bid you do the same. I beg of you to join them."_

_ "And I beg of you to leave the madness of your father's wishes behind and start anew."_

"He did." Minerva finally answered.

"But you didn't leave."

"No. Nor did I send my family away. Instead Albus and I opted to take precautions and believed it to be enough."

"Do you believe Edmund will return for Aegis' death?"

A pensive expression washed over Minerva's features, "I don't know. I'll fire call him this afternoon and see if he is coming."

"Unless you or Helena have told him, how would he know?"

"Molly isn't the only one with a unique clock. Aegis' had one created for Joslyn and after her death, it went to Edmund."

Hermione waited a full heartbeat to ask the question she had been waiting to ask since last eve, "And you," she quietly plowed forward, "are you alright?"

A wisp of a smile touched the corner of her thin lips, "Yes." Her contralto softly rippling in response, "I will be."

"Sure?"

"There are innumerable emotions that Aegis has conjured from me during our lifetime, and for years I believed the most poignant had been betrayal but thankfully it was replaced with truth and tendrils of a love lost while we were both still innocent not to know the difference. So, while it is difficult to imagine that he has passed the veil, I am also grateful that time was had to allay the tumultuous past between us."

"If things had worked out differently, do you think you'd have married him versus Albus?"

"As much as my heart wanted to, our upbringing was too vast to cross the divide." Tears shimmered in the muted light, "But Merlin knows we did try."

Elgin appeared with a small tray laden with two scones, two bowels of fruit, some sausage and a new carafe of coffee. "You'se breakfast," he stated setting the tray down, "and you'se report along with a note from Griphook that came in moments ago." He withdrew a small parchment along with what look to be a sealed letter from the inner part of his shirt along with a pair of her glasses.

Minerva took her glasses and the report, fingers moving to the second letter, "Thank you." She slit the seal of Griphook's letter and opened it as she donned her glasses.

_Minerva,_

_ I have received official notification that Aegis Black has been killed. While the content of his vault is being routed to an heir in the States, he asked you be notified of the following passage: Tis Black as night except for its heart which on its second shall only beat for you._

_ Griphook_

"Minerva…"

Emerald eyes didn't move from the note, "Aegis left word how to access his estate."

Hermione's eyes remained on the backside of the parchment, as she asked, "And how is that?"

"It seems we'll discover that this evening." Minerva cryptically stated as she finally lifted her gaze to see Hermione still staring at her and the parchment, and with a final glance at the phrase, she handed the paper to Hermione and opened her morning report. She didn't bother to watch Hermione's face, knowing that her eyes would undoubtedly widen at the phraseology, and she contented herself in that she'd hear it contained in her voice instead.

"How will this phrase enable you to access his estate?" Hermione questioned, rereading it a third time. "Was there a portkey as well?"

"No, we'll be traveling to Gringott's prior to the Black estate. From there, we'll be able to access Aegis' home." Minerva stated while continuing to read the morning report, but paused to glance over her glasses, "There shall be a heart or some other object with Griphook that shall take us there."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not." Minerva's eyes lowered back to Elgin's script, "But as I still have no recollection of the location of the estate, I have to hope that Aegis left something with Griphook or it'll be a short trip."

"Do you think he'll have left something at his home?"

"I do." Minerva gently answered, "As he and I had one thing in common -."

"Stubborn?" Hermione questioned causing the corner of Minerva's lips to curl upwards.

"A hint of that as well, but Albus was far more stubborn than Aegis. Rather, that of being a tactician."

"So you don't believe he'd go to try and kill Johannes without leaving something behind to help aide you."

Minerva lowered her morning report as she met brown eyes. "When you are willingly sacrificing your queen, my dear, you tend to have a plan."

"And what do you believe his was?"

The seconds stretched as Minerva reached up and pulled her glasses from her face before honestly answering the softly spoken question, "Foolhardy."

"I don't…"

She frowned and shook her head, "Whatever he believed, he was in error which we'll discover this eve; and make it all the more harder to defeat Harkiss as we've effectively been blinded by his actions and the attack on Lucius."

"We'll find a way." Hermione stated, hoping to be reassuring. "It'll just take us a little time to regroup."

Minerva felt the words go through her heart as she inadvertently closed her eyes to weather the internal struggle as she fought to maintain her façade and not acknowledge the bitter truth for once and all – she didn't have time. "True." Minerva finally breathed out as her jaw flexed and she tamped down the truth with a feigned smile and hollow words, "We'll know more this evening, until then it is all circumstantial."

"Yes, it is." Hermione agreed, as her eyes fell to the morning report still grasped within Minerva's fingers, "Anything of note?"

Minerva was pulled from her reverie and followed Hermione's line of sight to the parchment still clutched within her grasp, "No." She clipped, "Unless you care to know that Mr. Baily slept outside of the Gryffindor portrait as he forgot the password."

Hermione's eyes lifted in disbelief, "Really?"

"Quite."

Hermione chuckled, "I swear there are times he reminds so much of Neville during my first year."

Minerva edged forward, setting the parchment and her glasses on the coffee table as she picked up coffee, features remaining solemn. "I want to apologize for last evening."

Instantly Hermione felt the tendrils of her smile dissipate, "Look, I…perhaps…I'd rather not speak of it. At least not now. Believe me when I say it's a great comfort for you to know but…"

"Not regarding your scar," Her voice softened, "and I shan't speak of it past this morning only to reiterate that you have no need to ever feel ashamed or troubled by letting others see it; especially me."

"I…thank you but I don't…"

Minerva lifted her fingers, "You needn't say more. And that is not why I was apologizing."

Hermione's mouth formed an 'O' only moments before she finally streamed a coherent sentence together, "Then what…were you apologizing for?"

"An old woman's meddling."

Hermione blinked, "Huh?"

Minerva straightened her back, along with her resolve. Because as much as she wished _he'd_ be an option for Hermione, it was made abundantly apparent at the witching hour this morning that was not the case. "For urging you to reconsider Ronald," Hermione felt herself blink again as Minerva continued on, "last evening. I believed he had your best interests at heart, and while I still believe he does in his own way, after discovering some additional information last evening; I think it wise you find someone else. Someone whom you'll be comfortable with to show them _all_ of who you are," despite herself, Minerva's cadence dropped a half octave, "and who will love you for who you are. Unequivocally."

Brown eyes stared at Minerva's expression, trying to garner a nugget of her feelings regarding the topic, but only sincerity greeted Hermione. "I…thank you." She wanted to reach across the table, to place her hand atop Minerva's and state that she had indeed found the very person Minerva spoke of. Instead, she forced herself to lean back further into the seat and reply as she needed to, and not how she wished to.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"What?!" Elgin's voice bellowed outward causing Bonnie's head to incrementally lower, "How's can you'se **not **discuss it?!"

Harrowing eyes met outraged ones, "The same as you cannot discuss items involving the Master when he asks it of you."

His tiny chest expanding out, "That is nots good enough."

"It doesn't matter," Bonnie retorted.

"How can you'se say that?! The Mistress and Master are bound!"

Her jaw flexed, "You don't think I am aware of that?"

He took another deep breath, "Thens helps me understand. Have theys managed to dissolve the bond?"

"No," Bonnie reluctantly answered, "they have not and cannot. The rules regarding bounding hold, at least those do." She finished the last part as an afterthought, and at Elgin's bright questioning eyes she elaborated. "You know, as do I, they tried previously to dissolve the bond, and cannot be successful. They live on different planes and as such, cannot dissolve it until they are upon the same one. And, Minerva has pledged to remain bound to him upon her death."

Elgin easily read her dismay, "Why'se does that's upsets you'se? Theys have loved the other for decades."

"I swear, Elgin, there are times I think you blind."

He bristled, "I'se not blind."

"Regarding affairs of the heart," she extended her weathered hand out, "you are." She squeezed his hand, "And that's alright," she whispered, "but do trust me when I say that while she loves Albus; she does not _only_ love him."

"That's impossible." He breathed out in a rush. "They. Are. Bound."

"And it's been tearing her apart." Bonnie's cadence holding more of her heritage.

"So she and…Madame…Hermione…" Elgin reached out, fingers latching onto closest thing to hold him upright as his world warbled, "has she." He cleared his throat, eyes finally coming back to meet Bonnie, "Have they…"

Bonnie reached out and steadied Elgin, "It remains undisclosed between them, but it is becoming apparent that they both feel something for the other. However, the Mistress is adamant to not let anything happen, because of her commitment to Albus."

"Whats does the Master say?"

"I have not spoken to him about it." Bonnie swallowed, "I did not believe it my place."

"But Minerva has spoken to you'se about this?"

"She has."

Elgin met her gaze, "Does she love…Madame Hermione?"

Seconds ticked by as their eyes remained riveted upon the other before Bonnie's ears began to sink and she brokenly whispered her answer. "Yes."

"Even thoughs she remains bound to Master Albus?"

"Yes."

His back straightened slightly, "I'se needs to go speaks with him."

"Elgin," Bonnie's hand of support instantly morphed into a steely grip, "I beseech you, do not meddle."

"And yourself, what have you'se been doing?"

"The Mistress' wishes, which are against my own."

"Against? How so?"

"She loves Hermione and refuses to do a damn thing about it, to the extent she has elicited my assistance to ensure during her cycle she remains away from Hermione. I wish her a moment of joy, Elgin. Cannot you say the same, even if it is in contrast to what Albus wishes?"

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Blue eyes narrowed at the distinct outline who was striding through the trauma room, and she found herself stopping what she was doing and trailed after her niece. She paused as Tessa moved to the critical care patients, and motioned for Michael.

"Ensure that Lucius' room remains undisturbed for the next half hour."

"I…ahhh," his eyes flashed ahead, before they returned to Helena's, "alright. Dare I ask why?"

"Call it familial privilege."

Michael narrowed his eyes, "He isn't your family."

"True," she said steering back to her patient, "but he isn't who I was referring to."

Michael felt his frown deepen as she left, his eyes traveling to the closed door and then the desk. With a handful of steps, he was at the desk, Lucius' chart in hand as his gaze finally focused back to the man's condition and not the signature of his visitor – Tessa O'Connoll.

_How was she related to Helena?_

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Tessa entered the room, hand covering her mouth as her eyes took in the bruised and broken remnants of the normally proud man. Slowly, she forced herself to leave the shadows and sit near him, "Lucius," she breathed while hesitantly reaching outward and taking his hand within her own, "can you hear me?" She watched as his throat swallowed and his eyes fluttered, her hand tightening upon his, "Lucius."

"…'essa?"

"I'm here."

Blond lashes fluttered as blue irises began to focus, "…h'w bad."

Tessa shook her head, "I don't know. Hasn't the healers told you?"

He squeezed her hand before he laboriously replied "You know…how healers 're."

"That I do." She whispered in response as she reached up with her left hand to run it up his temple and into his hair. "I am so sorry about Narcissa."

He leaned into her hand, "I tried…"

"Shhh…" she breathed as her hand gently stroked the side of his face, "I know you did."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione stared at the large ominous estate as the waning sun's rays glinted off the stone walls and parapets. "This could be a beautiful estate."

"I believe the property once belonged to Wicket family until three centuries ago." "What happened?"

"One of the daughters married a Black and it became part of the Black fortune and estates."

"Didn't someone from the Wicket family try to reacquire the estate?"

"From the annals of Aegis' family, it seemed that the Wicket and Black family had small misunderstanding that lead to the death of the Wicket line two centuries ago. Since then, this estate has been with the Black family."

"How many estates did the Black's have?"

"I know of three besides this one."

"They had four estates within the family?" Minerva nodded prompting another question from Hermione, "How many did Aegis have?"

"Two. However, this is the one he cared for." She stopped by the two Griffins that marked the entrance to the estate. "Where he intended to make his home."

"Did he?" Hermione inquired as Minerva placed her hand upon the Griffin's chest.

"I don't know." Minerva honestly replied, as her head tipped ever so much to the side. "But from what I can feel and see of the warding I'd venture that this was his home."

"See what? I only see snow drifts."

"Do you see how the wind shifts along the Griffins' heads?"

"Barely," Hermione breathed, "it looks natural. How can you see that?"

"Animagus qualities." Minerva honestly replied against the warm flesh only ten centimeters from her.

Hermione turned to the side, "Does it really enhance some of your senses?"

"And at times, it dampens them too." Minerva whispered as she met Hermione's gaze, feeling her pulse speed up, "I'm going to enter the property, but I have a feeling the wards are designed only to let me enter."

"Should I wait here?"

"No," Minerva stated, stepping a half step back, "but I'll need you to get close."

Hermione felt herself swallow, unnecessarily hard. "Okay," She began to take a step forward but stopped at Minerva's raised hand.

"From behind." Minerva elaborated.

Hermione nodded in understanding, "Right, so your body activates the warding and as I'm behind you," she felt her pulse rate jump at the mere notion of what she was about to do, "it doesn't read me except as you."

"Correct." Minerva shifted trying not to think about how Hermione would feel against her as she spun away from Hermione and toward the entrance. "Let me know when you're…" the last word to her sentence fell momentarily away as two hands landed on either one of her hips, "ready."

Hermione paused before taking the final step she needed to as her hands came to rest upon Minerva's hips, "I'm ready." She breathed, as she took a step forward while biting her lip to keep herself from moaning as she pressed her front into Minerva's back as her senses were flooded with lavender, vanilla and the crisp snowy air.

Minerva gently reached down, and placed her hands atop Hermione's, and pulled them further up and around her waist. "In three…" she let Hermione's hands go and reached backwards, "two…" placing her hands on Hermione's hips, "one…" and began to walk forward, feeling Hermione's body move against her as she approached the entry. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore how Hermione's arms felt wrapped around her waist as she strode into the heart of Aegis' estate.

A figure suddenly appeared before her as a rush of magic slammed into her body stopping Minerva and causing Hermione to almost stumble backward except for Minerva's hold upon Hermione's hips.

"Password." A voice uttered as Minerva stared into nothingness.

"Minerva Katherine Black."

The barrier washed over her as the voice bid welcome, "Lady Minerva, good evening."

"Another two steps," Minerva said as she moved forward, "that'll do." She said tapping on Hermione's hands.

"Lady Minerva," Hermione quipped as she reluctantly released her hold upon the elder witch, brow arched as Minerva turned around.

"So it would seem."

"Perhaps," Hermione joined Minerva as they continued to walk up the gravel pathway, "he didn't live here as I doubt he'd have set the password to your name for others to know of how close you both were."

Emerald eyes narrowed at the stone structures, the way the property appeared to have been maintained but only just. "I don't believe anyone save him has been here since before his incarceration."

"Why?" Hermione asked looking around, "Surely he had Lucius or even Johannes here."

"Doubtful," Minerva stated as they strode up the aged stone steps, "because he wouldn't bring Johannes to a place that potentially housed any information that would assist him, and if the Wicket library remains here, then I assure you it can."

"The Wicket library remains intact?" Hermione's voice held a note of disbelief, "I believed it had been sold off when the family became deceased."

"Some of it had been, and now resides in the library at the Manor." She placed her hand on the lever, "The rest, I presume remains here."

"What will come of it?" Hermione asked as Minerva pushed open the door.

"It depends upon what becomes of the estate. I don't know who he's left it to." Minerva answered as they stepped inside, only to see three house elves instantly appear. At best, their clothing would be called rags, but the oldest elf stepped forward with her head bowed.

"You must be Lady Minerva, we've been instructed to assist you per Lord Black."

"Thank you." Minerva stated, "May I please have your names?"

"I am Isis, and this is Miles and Anise."

"Isis, Miles, Anise, this is Hermione Granger, she'll be helping me this evening. Please grant her the same courtesy you are to afford me."

"Lady…" Isis cleared her throat, "I am to give you this letter if you are the one to arrive."

"One moment," Minerva stated as she unfastened her cloak and withdrew her glasses before reaching to take the letter, "thank you." She said while putting on her glasses before opening the letter.

However, as soon as the letter opened, the words shimmered and the paper vanished in a blaze of fire to be replaced by the smoky image of Aegis Black.

_"Minerva," his voice rang outward as his eyes landed upon the woman he spoke of, "if you are seeing this, then I failed at stopping Johannes and for that I truly am sorry. As I had no desire to cause any additional burden, no matter how short-lived, the only alteration from what I had foreseen is that I will be spared having to see you buried and you now have to see me. But from our context of conversations, I believe I arrived first but only just._

_ "And so for the interim, I leave you this estate and the whole of its contents. You know as well as I, that it was never truly a part of the Black estate – and as its ancestry dates back to your forebears, I believe it apropos for you to find an heir worthy of re-emerging from the Wicket home. I have opted not to leave it to Edmund as he'll have enough questions to quell upon his return to England and the handling of the rest of the Black estate to not have to concern himself with this home too._

_ "Regarding Johannes, I've left a journal of who I know to be involved, but be cautious as I did not meet all of his followers. Despite my best efforts, I was not able to discern who the lead auror is that Johannes has infiltrated; but know that I was able to confirm that there is a leak."_

_ He shifted, voice becoming tender. "Here, sitting and pondering what should be said and should not, I find myself hoping and dreading the notion that you shall hear this letter. So for once let me speak plainly, I was a fool when I let you leave for Germany and even more so upon your return. I would have given you the world and only now do I realize my error, as the world is not mine to give – only my heart which I believe has always belonged to you. _

_ "Do take care of yourself as there is no need to rush into death, but if fate smiles ill know that I'll wait for you – if only to see you once more."_

The smoke broke apart at his final word and Minerva blinked back the tears as Isis' voice shattered the moment, "My Lady, will you be requiring anything?"

"I…"

Hermione placed her hand upon Minerva's arm, just above her elbow, "Some tea would be lovely Isis."

Isis turned to the woman beside the Lady of the house, "Any preference?"

"Chamomile." Minerva whispered as she cleared her throat, "And if you could point us to the library."

Miles extended his hand out, "Your cloaks, please."

Hermione watched as Minerva shed her cloak by route, thoughts obviously elsewhere as Anise led them quietly to the library. "Have you always worked for the Black family?"

Anise opened the door while answering, "The elves who are currently at the residence work the estate."

Hermione felt a measure of respect for Aegis for having employed free elves, "Then you are not owned?"

Anise's face blanched, "We are free elves and…"

Minerva pulled herself from her reverie, "Those who are here are free, Hermione. When the estate was built, at the time and indefinitely afterwards, it is a provision that any elf who is here shall be free and compensated for their work. The Wicket family, along with the Weasley, Krantz, McPhearson and mine fought against how the Ministry ruled for house elves."

"How do you keep track of it all?" Hermione genuinely asked as Isis appeared.

"It's hard not to when you grow up with it."

Isis set the tray down, "Excuse me, Milady, but what is your father's surname?"

"The same as my own, McGonagall."

Her eyes grew large, "As in Minerva McGonagall?"

Minerva's lips drew into a thin line, "Yes, why?"

"I…" Isis shook her head, "I believe it better to show you." And with a loud crack, she vanished.

"I thought you had been here before?"

"Once," Minerva said in response to Hermione's query, "albeit sixty years ago, shortly after returning from the war." She gazed about the comparatively quaint library compared to the one within her ancestral home. "We didn't stay long, and I didn't meet any of the elves…" Isis reappeared with an aged paper carefully held within her knobby fingers as Minerva finished her sentence meeting large opalescent yellow eyes with her piercing emerald ones, "and have no idea what you could be referencing."

Isis glanced to the letter in her hands and then to Minerva, "Then you do not know?"

"No, I'm afraid I do not," Minerva stated.

"This letter was written by Sir Wicket…" she swallowed, "and you are mentioned."

"Mentioned?" Minerva's eyes glanced to the aged parchment and then back to Isis, "As in a member of my family…"

"You." Isis interjected.

"I don't see how that's possible." Minerva began as Isis walked to the end table and set the parchment gently upon it. "He was alive over a thousand years ago."

"I have read it." Isis simply stated as she began opening the letter. "And it is quite clear." She finished moving back, "Please read for yourselves."

_Genna,_

_ You have been a good friend and…_

Minerva's eyes glanced past the rest of the letter to the signature and despite its age, reached over and pulled it from the table, borderline enraged.

"What kind of joke is this, Isis? I'd know this writing anywhere."

Isis' face paled, "It is no joke, Lady Minerva. That letter has been handed down in my family since Genna's passing."

"Minerva…" Hermione reached out.

"Impossible." Minerva countered, eyes growing darker.

"Whose writing is it?" Hermione asked as she placed her hand upon Minerva's arm, and drew the tumultuous gaze of Minerva McGonagall.

"Filius'."

"What?!"

"My thoughts exactly," Minerva whirled back around to Isis, "did Aegis ask that you deliver this?"

"Lord Black knew nothing of the letter, Milady." Isis replied wanting to back away, but unwilling to remotely give false credence to her ancestors.

"There has to be a reason." Hermione countered.

"What exactly?" Minerva snapped as she turned to Hermione, "That someone from the 2nd century just happened to have his hand writing and know someone with my name?"

"No," Hermione challenged, "but I'd like to see what the letter actually said before I jump to that conclusion."

Brown and green eyes met, and without another word, Minerva handed the letter back to Hermione while walking towards the mantle as Hermione cleared her throat.

"Genna…

_ You have been a good friend and steadfast compatriot. I wish you and your family many long years, and it is my hope that you and perhaps your descendants will continue to be friends to members of my family through the ages._

_ I foresee a time will come that will cause many to lose faith, but I sincerely hope those loyal to the Wicket family will remain resolute. As winds of change will come once more when a friend once dear arrives and walks through the door to what will once have been my home. But I must reiterate, centuries will have come and gone, my ashes and name long since forgotten before hers becomes known. If you should happen to stay past my death, and your heirs past yours, perhaps you and your descendants will endeavor to remember her name and take comfort that with her arrival, come the following summer, a new heir shall be named with old blood._

_Her name is, Minerva Katherine McGonagall. She'll inherit the home and I have every belief that she'll do what should and needs to be done. Although, whomever is the interim caretaker at the time, if you could look after Minerva's welfare too - I'd consider it a personal favor, as she needs help with that from time to time._

_ Again, thank you for all that you have done for me and my family. Words cannot express the gratitude I have._

_ Love,_

_ F. Flit Wicket _

Hermione slowly lowered the letter, eyes finding and remaining on Minerva's far too still form. "Isis…" she absently handed the letter to her, "would you mind giving us some time?"

Isis took the letter, "I did not mean to cause consternation for Lady Minerva or yourself."

"I know." Hermione breathed and moved past the house elf, "Minerva, I'm sure there is an explanation."

Minerva turned around, "Goodness knows I'd love to hear it."

Despite herself, a smile curled Hermione's lips at Minerva's clipped response. "As would I." Her smile grew as she began reiterating Minerva's early comment. "Well, other than a man whose handwriting does bare the unearthly resemblance to Filius' and happens to know and be rather good friends with someone who bears your name. Because, I've got to tell you, that is pretty coincidental."

Minerva's lips pinched as her voice rose up an octave, "Do you think?"

An outright chortle slipped past Hermione's lips, "I do." She continued on, mirth lining her voice, "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation." She shrugged, "Well other than the obvious one."

Minerva's brow arched, "Do you have another one?"

"I…"

"Perhaps I should go ahead and name Filius the estate's executor because his handwriting appears to be the same as Wickit's."

"Probably not."

Minerva sighed as her right hand reached up and she placed the tips of her fingers along her temple, "I can't worry about this right now." She said as her voice broke, as her hand fell away, "to think that Filius somehow goes back over 1800 years in time and is the founder of the Wicket family is absurd."

"I was thinking that perhaps," Hermione picked up a carafe of brandy or other alcohol, "we could add something to our tea."

"Is that brandy?" Minerva questioned.

"I…believe that's more your area of expertise." She handed the bottle to Minerva, "As for Filius, I concur. I don't believe that there is any method for someone to travel that far back in time."

"It is brandy," Minerva said as she poured herself a large splash of it in the bottom of her cup and an equal amount in Hermione's, "and no, the farthest someone can travel back in time is measured in decades. Not centuries and certainly not millennia."

"You're sure that the Department of Mysteries hasn't managed to stretch time travel farther?" Hermione went to pick up the tea, but Minerva lifted her hand indicating that she was passing on the tea.

"Not entirely, as they could have stretched it to perhaps a century, but not much more." She lifted her tea cup, "Harold would have let me know if it had surpassed the century mark in a stabilized jump."

Hermione set the tea pot down, having momentarily dithered on whether to put a splash of tea with the brandy, but opted not to. "What about an unplanned or accident involving a time turner? Surely there could be a set of circumstances that could lead someone to be thrust centuries into the past."

"The farthest documented case that I know about, the person traveled three hundred and seven years. He managed to leave a note that signified that he survived the trip, albeit he was severely disoriented upon arriving for over a week and exhausted. Regarding how he was able to travel so far back, the time turner was struck with a refraction of a spell he was casting and it shattered the mechanism."

"But caused him to arrive over 300 years in the past." Hermione finally took a sip, unsure what to expect and was pleasantly surprised by the way the smoked cherry flavored beverage tingled across her palate.

"And there has not been another documented case of someone surviving the journey."

Hermione's face blanched, "You mean, they've _tried _to send people back past several decades?"

"I know of three failed attempts."

Without thought, Hermione tipped the rest of the brandy up and swallowed the last part of the cup in one go before she choked out a response, "What happened to them?"

"They don't know." Minerva softly stated, "And I have to think from my short time jaunt, that they were exhausted and arrived in a location or area where it was unsafe and weren't able to defend themselves or they may have arrived unconscious."

"Unconscious?"

"The time turner uses the wizard or witch's magic to activate, it can't be used by muggles or squibs; so the more magic…" Hermione finished in conjunction with Minerva, "the more fatigued they are."

Hermione continued on, "And there is no way to supplement a person's magic to push it past their core abilities...unless perhaps, Filius would be carrying a time turner and be struck with an errant spell somehow on the time turner itself."

"Except," Minerva's long fingers grabbed the bottle of brandy, "Filius refuses to carry a time turner, he wants no part of one."

Hermione's brow furloughed, "That's odd."

Minerva shrugged as she nodded to Hermione's cup, "More?"

"Just a bit, I need to grade essays when we return."

"And, no it really isn't peculiar but practical." At Hermione's questioning glance, Minerva elaborated, "There is no temptation to undo or try and correct a believed wrong."

"Do you know if participated in any experiments and perhaps that is what this is referencing?"

"Hmmm…" Minerva snapped her gaze back to Hermione's, "No, he only remained with the Ministry for a short time and never worked with the Department of Mysteries." She willed her focus to remain on the present conversation, "I would have known."

"How long did you work for them?"

"Several years following the war with Grindlewald, and there was no record of Filius being involved with any of the temporal experiments. And while a professor here, he has adamantly refused to have any part with time turners."

"Then perhaps something has already happened."

"Doubtful, because if he had somehow managed to arrive that far back in time and alive, it had to be at a tremendous accident that would be impossible to replicate that amount of magical energy."

Hermione felt herself nod, "He'd be stuck there." She stated noticing the way Minerva's attention seemed to be ebbing and flowing, the only the definitive being that it was apparent her thoughts were scattered. She knew being here, the situation with Aegis would be difficult, but it seemed the unexpected letter had pushed Minerva's normally stalwart façade to the brink. And she suddenly realized why, her heart stopping in conjunction with the thought as she breathed it in a hushed whisper, "If it hasn't happened, you're worried…that it will."

"The thought is weighing heavily on my mind."

Brown eyes filled with emotion, "And if so, it could be right after you…aren't…after this…" she found the words unwilling to pass her lips, but knew that she had conveyed her thoughts as Minerva slowly replied, her cadence thick with her highland burr.

"After I die, leaving Hogwarts – vulnerable." Minerva's fingers found the edge of some piece of furniture to balance herself on as she admitted her newest fear aloud. "And all of this will have been for naught. As there are only a handful of other wizards or witches who could take over headship and with what is going on with Hogwarts…" her shoulders seemed to sink almost as inch as she finished, "most are not willing to sacrifice all for what they do not know."

"I'm sure it isn't Filius." Hermione countered needing to believe differently – if only to buoy Minerva's floundering spirits, "As there would be some type of proof besides one solitary letter. Where are Wicket's journals? Notes? As they would match Filius' handwriting as well, and they'll be able to be used to authenticate the letter…" Minerva maneuvered about the table and slowly sat down at the end of the dark leather chesterfield as Hermione continued on, while sitting opposite of her. "And we'll be able to prove that it isn't Filius."

_I don't have the time._ Minerva wanted to say, but she bit the edge of her lip to keep the words from finding voice; instead a whimper emerged as her chin dropped towards her chest away from Hermione as tears fell unbidden off long lashes and the cup slipped from the saucer and clattered to the floor, almost instantly followed by the saucer breaking across the cup and shattering into a hundred pieces – much like the habitually reserved woman. Her hands shakily came up to the sides of her face, shoulders and then body shaking as soft sobs eschewed into the otherwise still room.

Hermione sat there, in momentarily disbelief before the shock wore off enough that her brain was able to make her body function. She set her cup down and moved the meter and a half, wrapping her arms around Minerva's hunched over form; ignoring the way Minerva tried to move away from her embrace, causing Hermione to hold on tighter until the older woman capitulated – which came less than a minute later. Minerva's body collapsed into Hermione's, arms became snugger as she fought against her own tears as Minerva's saturated her robes. "It'll work out…" she whispered into the ebony locks, "Somehow…even if I…" the words slipped out before she realized she had said them, "have to remain at Hogwarts for a few years."

"It's not…" Minerva took a shuddering breath as she turned her head to the side, "your responsibility."

"If I didn't care about…Hogwarts, do you think I would have come to teach there?"

"Headship or even deputy is…" Minerva tried to ignore the tears that ran down her face as she continued, "_very_ different."

Hermione ran a hand up Minerva's back, "I know," she murmured as she slid fingers back down the taunt lines, "as I've watched you run the school for years. While it would be very different without Filius, in truth," she tipped her head just enough to see part of Minerva's face as her fingers ran back down Minerva's spine as she whispered the final part, "it's you I can't imagine Hogwarts without."

"Hermione, I…cannot change that." Minerva quietly breathed, unwilling to shift from the warmth and comfort surrounding her, even though she couldn't see Hermione's face. _And perhaps it is better I can't,_ she thought, _as it means she can't see mine either._

"Merlin, do I wish you'd try." Hermione gasped out, her frustration evident in her voice as a few tears splashed off her lashes, "Death is never certain. Especially as we use magic everyday of our lives." She shifted more, bringing the whole side of Minerva's face into view, "There _must_be something that can be done."

Minerva felt the tears began anew as they slipped down her cheeks, "Nothing can stop that I will die."

"I refuse to believe that. Neither you or Helena can be _that_ certain."

"In this instance, we can."

"Why?" Hermione asked while pulling away as Minerva sat upright, brown eyes searching the elder woman's features for understanding.

"We know the reason, and there is no magic that can undo what was done." Minerva slowly responded as she met Hermione's waiting gaze, "I've tried."

"What about using non-magical means?"

"To counter magic?"

"Then tell me what happened to you." Hermione pleaded, "Not the shadow of my memory, after the event to help forestall my questions, but what actually happened to you to cause you…you to be…dying."

"I lived." Minerva said with little fanfare as she stood, "I fear, my dear, that it'll be best to return another night."

"What do you mean that you lived?" Hermione asked, lunging forward as she stood to grab onto Minerva's arm. "How would living cause you to die?"

"Did you wish to stay longer? I'll leave my office…" Minerva's voice trailed off as Hermione's gaze remained unyielding as she stepped a half step closer.

"I don't care about this home, the floo or how I'll get back to Hogwarts." Hermione breathed with a hint of conviction, before the tenor in her voice softened as she continued on, "I do, however, greatly care about…you," her eyes swept over Minerva's visage, "and want to help. You only need to let me."

"You are." Minerva gently responded, "Whether you believe it or not, Hermione…you are."

"Then why not tell me the whole truth regarding what happened and why you are dying?" Hermione could easily see the conflict within emerald orbs, and felt her hopes become dashed at learning the truth as the emerald slowly hardened and the truth once again was buried as her fingers slipped from Minerva's arm.

"Because it won't change what will happen, but it will alter your willingness to help me."

"I won't let that happen, I promise."

"To know the depth of my injuries, the reason, and how I shall die; it most certainly would. Promise or no."

Indignation flared in Hermione's breast, "How can you say that when we've been through so much? Do you think so little of my character that I'd waffle now? Is that why you haven't told me? You're afraid I'll abandon you?"

"No."

"No," Hermione mockingly repeated, "That's the best you can say? After everything?"

"I think I'm exhausted and need rest, and the very last thing I wish is to argue with you." Minerva honestly relayed, "While it's essential I look through Aegis' notes, it's too much to process at this point and will do little good. I'll take the journals and look at them in the morning, which returns me to my earlier question on whether you wish to stay longer or accompany me back to Hogwarts?"

"I'm sorry, Minerva, I didn't mean…you are right, of course. It's been a long day. I'll get the journals," she started moving around Minerva, "and if it's alright with you, perhaps come back after the children go home to see if we can find anything else that may be helpful."

Minerva nodded, "I concur, Isis." She called out and almost instantly the elf reappeared. Except this time, her clothing did not appear as rags, but tailored cloth. And Minerva immediately understood the rationale, "Isis, as long as I am over this home, I forbid you or any of the others whom I employ to wear the rag attire because you fear the repercussions to myself or the house."

Isis nodded, "Of course. But you do understand that Lord Black asked that when we greeted others we were to wear the rag attire?"

"I do, but his friends and mine greatly differ."

"Very well. How can I help?"

"Our cloaks, as it's been a long day and we are retiring for the evening."

"Then you mean not to remain for the evening?"

"No, but we'll be back early next week. And if I am not with Hermione, she is permitted entry to the estate."

Isis' eyes moved to Hermione and back, after a long pause, she gave a solitary nod before vanishing with a crack.

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Xoxo

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"And will that be all, Mistress?" Tily asked as she set a second hot water bottle along Minerva's side.

"Would you let Cuthbert know that I'd like to speak with him before the start of classes tomorrow?"

Tily nodded, "I'll speak with Linx and verify that he remains in his rooms until the first bell. What time would you like to see him?"

"Before breakfast in the Hall."

Concern was evident in emerald eyes as Tily pulled the covers up, "Would you like to speak with him this evening?"

"I don't have it in me to do so, or I would."

"Then I shall have him here after your morning routine."

Minerva partially nodded her head, murmuring, "Thank you, Tily."

"There is one other thing you have need to know, Mistress."

"Hmmm…"

"Elgin knows."

Despite her fatigue, Minerva managed to open one of her eyes at the comment. "And…? How is he?"

"Disbelieving according to Bonnie."

"And by you relaying this, I take it you know?" Minerva's burr was thick with fatigue.

Tily patted Minerva's arm atop the comforter, "I've known for months, Minerva." Her uncharacteristic light green eyes twinkled, "Who do you think told Bonnie to be mindful before the holidays?"

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Xoxo

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_a/n: As always, hope you enjoyed! _

_And a point of clarification regarding my last author's note - the 'only' persons who I am committed to keeping alive are those who are actually on Platform 93/4 at the end of Deathly Hallows. We see Draco, Pansy, Scorpio, Ginny, Harry, James, Lily, Teddy, Percy, Albus, Rose, Hugo, Victoire...that's it. __Don't worry, there will be lots of others who 'do' survive, but know that there will also be several (besides Johannes) who won't._


	102. Chapter 97 February 5th, 2010

_a/n: firstly - if any of you live in an area affected by 'Sandy'; my best wishes to you and your loved ones. Hopefully you have a speedy recovery and remain safe throughout._

_Regarding the update: __I'll admit to having spent far more time on this chapter in the polishing phase (i.e. re-reading, tweaking, adding a word here and there) than I ever do; (of the previous posted chapters, perhaps 3 others have gotten the same polish as this one. i.e. - the 'really' important chapters tend to get a little special treatment.) And while the overall length of the chapter is not incredibly long I do hope that the content makes up for it._

_As always, I do hope you enjoy!_

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**Chapter 97 ~ February 5****th****, 2010 (Friday)**

Minerva felt a tingle along her skin and glanced up as Cuthbert Binns walked through her door, "Headmistress, Linx stated you wished to see me."

"Yes, Cuthbert, I was hoping for a few minutes of your time prior to the start of your classes this morning regarding the Wicket lineage."

"A noble house that fell in the late 19th century; which is unfortunate as they managed to survive the Goblin Rebellions, the Giant Wars, and the plagues but not a discord with the Black family."

"I was hoping you'd recall more information concerning the founding of the family."

"Filius Wicket is the first recorded patriarch of the family, although his name is contested and no historical evidence exists to authenticate it. Any familial documents have it listed only using the first initial of his first name followed by his surname. On the rare occasion, there have been instances where middle name is included, Flit; and some scholars believe that Flit was his first name. He built the original Wicket estate sometime in the 3rd century; the home and grounds have been added to, and now is a household within the Black family after Marigold Wicket married Victor Black."

"I'm aware of how the estate fell and would like to remain focused upon your knowledge of Filius."

Cuthbert shifted a bit before nodding, "Very well. The last bit of factual information I know of is that his wife's name was Siobhan and they had a son and paternal twins."

"What of non-factual inferences?"

"Minerva you are well aware of my disdain…"

"I am, but I must insist." Minerva interrupted.

His ghostly lips pursed in displeasure, but at seeing the set of the Headmistress' jaw he conceded. "A man of short stature, who was middle aged before marrying Siobhan, but a keen wizard rumored to be exceptionally gifted in magic."

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Xoxo

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Hermione couldn't help the frown from appearing on her face as she strode through the side entry of the Great Hall and saw that Minerva had not joined them for breakfast. Her eyes remained on the empty chair as she slid her own out to sit.

Aurora noticed where Hermione's gaze had been focused, "Minerva sent word to Filius that she is leaving this morning and not returning till Sunday evening."

Hermione almost missed her seat, "Sunday?"

Aurora moved the carafe of coffee to Hermione, "Hmmm…yes, the evening, in time for dinner in the Great Hall."

Hermione fought against her sudden desire to leave breakfast, as she needed more information, "Then she has already left?"

Marx answered before Aurora had an opportunity, "I am due to have a meeting with her following breakfast before she departs regarding a student infraction last evening."

"If you'll excuse me," Hermione slid her chair back as Marx rested his hand atop her arm.

"She was with Binns before I came down."

"Binns?" she softly reiterated in question, tenor belaying her surprise.

"Yes, and asked that I return after breakfast. You are welcome to join me if you need to speak with her."

"Thank you Marx, but I shall see if she has time now or following your meeting." Hermione stood and nodded to both Aurora and Marx. "I'll see you both at lunch."

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Xoxo

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"No," Minerva said as she turned away from the flames, "I am trying to finish up to leave; I'll call you when I am settled at the Ridge."

"Then you mean not to go to the Manor?"

With an unsteady hand, Minerva moved some of her waiting correspondence into her satchel, "Hermione has access to the Manor and with how drawn I am at this juncture this morning, it would bode ill if she were to stop by this afternoon or any time thereafter."

"Then your cycle hasn't waned proportionally to your loss of magic?"

A chortle left thin lips, "It has not." She cast a glance over her shoulder, "If you truly wish to know, I can still smell her scent within my office from last night. Everything still becomes – more."

"But she has classes this morning?"

Minerva didn't bother gathering her faux glasses, as she wouldn't have need of them while at the Ridge, "She will be at breakfast in the Great Hall and by the time she finishes, I should be at the Ridge."

"Do not forget your meeting with Professor Hesch." Salazar rumbled.

Minerva's gaze instantly snapped to the founder's portrait, "And Marx is at breakfast?"

"What?" Helena tipped her head, "I didn't hear that last part."

"Yes, he went there after I asked for a meeting." Salazar said obviously losing interest in the conversation.

"I'll call you when you when I'm at the Ridge, Helena." Minerva paused, "Are you sure you have the time?"

"By the time you call, I'll have finished my morning routine and given Michael a few sundry instructions, thereby making the time to join you."

"You realize," Minerva didn't have time to feel the shame for what she was about to say, "that I won't be much for company."

"And you needn't go through this alone." Helena retorted, "Call when you arrive, and I'll see you shortly, dear."

The flames instantly returned to normal and Minerva turned her full attention back to Salazar, "What was the infraction?"

Salazar bristled; face showing his displeasure at having been asked, "I believe that is for Professor Hesch to relay."

"I concur," Minerva stated, "but in this one instance Salazar, I implore you to relay what transpired as I need to leave Hogwarts for the next two days as you well know."

Rowena's brow rose at Salazar, "Do not pretend that other Heads have not asked this of you."

Salazar glared back before turning and answering the Headmistress, "Young Isaac Reed's body seemed to have become charmed, negating the ability for any clothes to remain on him."

"Was Filius able to counter the charm?"

"This morning prior Marx asking for a meeting."

"Then he discovered who cast the charm?"

"I believe he was hoping you'd be able to assist him in that endeavor."

"Isn't Mr. Reed in his second year?"

Salazar, along with several of the portraits nodded, "Yes."

"Please ask Marx to check Mr. Reed's wand, along with the wands of Mr. Reed's housemates from second year; I believe it was not a malevolent prank. He'll find someone was practicing their charms lesson in advance; if I'm not mistaken, Filius starts repellent charms mid-February."

Severus's voice cut across the chatter, "I believe you are correct."

Pride shone from blue eyes, "I have no doubt she is." Albus softly stated.

Severus cast a sidelong glance to Albus, "I suppose there is some comfort in knowing the professors' syllabi."

"And in the eighteen years you taught potions, how often did you change your syllabi?" Minerva questioned.

"I'm sure as often as you." He retorted, a smile adorning his lips.

Minerva felt the gargoyle activate, her eyes darting to the clock, "It seems that I'll be able to speak with Marx after all."

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xoxo

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Helena moved along the passageways, Michael almost running to keep up, "Till Sunday?"

"Unless there is an emergency, then yes. I have something personal I need to take care of."

"Nothing serious I hope."

"No," Helena replied, "but it will leave me temporarily unavailable as you'll have to contact Harold in order to reach me."

"Anything I can help you with?" Michael questioned as they turned into St. Mungos elixir, potion, and medicinal stores.

"Rather doubtful," Helena replied as she glanced at her watch and paused, before turning to the technician, "3 dreamless draughts."

"3?" Ophelia questioned before writing it down.

"Correct, along with these herbs," Helena slid a piece of paper to Ophelia before resuming her conversation with Michael, "now who on the critical ward do I need to see this morning?"

"Ahhh," He glanced over to Ophelia, back to Helena, and pulled his mind away from why she'd need 3 dreamless draughts – unless she was planning to sleep most of the weekend or someone else was whom she was treating outside of St. Mungos prevue. And there was only one person whom he knew she would do that, but even he wasn't foolish enough to risk his hide at the mere suggestion – but it did cause him to wonder why Minerva McGonagall would need three dreamless draughts, and if his inferences were accurate. "Ellison, McVaughn, Plum, and Ghent."

Ophelia handed the bottles to Helena, along with a satchel undoubtedly filled with various dried herbs. "Ma'am, what room will these be billed to?"

"Bill them to me personally, Ophelia."

"Ma'am, that…is against…"

"Protocol. I am aware, but not unprecedented for the Head of St. Mungos as we do occasionally treat patients outside of these walls. Which I shall be doing this weekend, unfortunately, my jaunts this year have depleted some of my stores and I haven't time to go to an Apothecary before leaving. You'll find I already have an account to bill, and it is reviewed quarterly by the Board." She turned to Michael, "Ghent made it through the night?"

"Yes, and seems more stabilized than earlier, but I am concerned about the sudden fluid build-up in his right lung." Michael stated as they walked towards the critical care ward, but his curiosity could not be satiated and he found himself asking the question before it truly registered what he was indeed asking, "Whom are you treating this weekend?"

Helena's clipped gait instantly stopped and she waited for him to turn, face devoid of emotion, "You have an exceedingly bright future Michael, but my advice to you, is to let this go and any other of my odd behavior for the next several weeks. Is that understood?"

Michael felt himself nod as he met cold blue eyes, "Like crystal, Helena."

"Good." She began moving forward again, "Now, what time this morning was it noted that the fluid started to accumulate?"

"Ahhh," Michael jogged a few steps to catch back up, "By the time the healer noticed it, the bottom quadrant was full?"

"What?" Helena snapped, "Was the healer blind?"

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xoxo

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Minerva grabbed the last of what she planned to take with her, Aegis' small stack of journals, and eased them into her satchel as the door opened. "Good morning…" the word Marx was already on her tongue, but the potent scent that suddenly blanketed the air wasn't his. Instead of a heavy musk laced with chamomile; she was greeted to a rich almond with oatmeal and the easily discernible honey that caused her pulse to quicken as her eyes sought to confirm what her body was already telling her, "Hermione…" she softly breathed out.

She could feel Albus' anxiety spike as her eyes skimmed across smooth features, momentarily stopping on the way Hermione's pulse in her neck seemed to be beating slightly faster; as she drew to a stop several meters from the door. Through a herculean effort, Minerva slid her eyes back to brown ones, trying not to notice how they were dilating – but ohhh, she was cataloging it. Along with how Hermione's body was already exuding pheromones that made her want to forget who she was, "What can I help you with this morning?"

"I wanted to apologize," Hermione took a step closer, inexorably drawn to the woman who seemed to be glowing this morning, and she looked so unlike last night, that it was doubtful it could be anything other than a glamour charm. But whatever it was, Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of Minerva, "for my behavior last night."

_Last night? _Minerva numbly nodded trying to remember what in Merlin's name, Hermione would be apologizing for, as she forced her muddled brain to continue to operate on a purely professional or at the very minimum strictly friendship level. However, with each step that Hermione took bringing herself ever closer, Minerva felt both dread and desire at what might ensue.

"I shouldn't have pushed," Hermione elaborated, "I know you have your reasons as to why you haven't shared with me what happened to you, it's just…I don't understand why you don't share it with me." Her tone softened, "Especially as your most friends along with your children know, leaving me to wonder why not me."

Minerva's brogue thickened as she tried to keep her mind only on the reply and not the rosiness of Hermione's skin, "Helena and Harold know most of the story," she stepped around the desk, to stand along its side as a rustle could be heard from behind – her bond flaring, and she felt her desire become momentarily dampened to close the distance between she and Hermione, "Rory less, and the children only the rudimentary details."

"And Filius?"

"Probably more than I realize, but definitely not as much as Rory." Minerva rumbled, as the fingertips of her left hand came to rest along the top of her desk in a vain effort to keep her from moving from where she was.

"And why not me? Is it because of my heritage? Or that you haven't known me for decades? That I was a past student?"

"Not even one of my oldest friends knows, Hermione." Minerva edged incrementally closer, loving the way the light danced off normally mocha irises, but they seemed lighter – not quite bronze, and she found herself _wanting _to know how light they'd become or if perchance they darkened to a stirring chocolate. "It most certainly has nothing to do with your heritage or that you were once…" she found the word hard to get past her lips, not wanting to place the woman before her in the same category as others, because she was hardly the same as anyone else, "my student."

"Then…" Hermione scanned the rich hued irises barely a meter and a half away, "I'll try and refrain." She continued on noting Minerva's eyes and how they seemed to sparkle with a hint of silver flecks, her voice innately dropping an octave as she breathed out her apology again. "And I'm sorry that I pushed." A half-hearted smile crossed her features, "Or rather continue to…"

Minerva tried to fight herself, but felt her body take another step closer and she couldn't help but relish the decadent lush scent that seemed to be everywhere around her, "No apology," Minerva's right hand stretched out, tips of her fingers ghosting along Hermione's cheek, "is necessary, my dear."

"But I think…" Hermione's eyes flickered to moist lips, pursed so close, that she felt her heart rate speed up, "I do," She rasped as her eyes slowly made their way back up to Minerva's, her mouth suddenly going dry at the emotion staring back at her. "Need to apologize…"

Minerva's fingers edged into the temple of Hermione's hair, the last of her self-restraint crumbling with the tactile sensation of her thumb running along Hermione's cheek, "Not for last night," Minerva rumbled as she leaned in, no longer able to stop herself despite needing to, wanting to…feeling her bond pulse in anguish, but for just one moment – it didn't matter. The only thing that did was the soft breath that eschewed from _he_r lips, the way she felt _her_ head tip slightly upwards in order to meet…

Her.

And for that one instant, the responsibilities, the weight of the wizarding world, perceived iconic images, and everything else melted away, except for two women succumbing to their momentary need as they leaned forward – to kiss the other.

Their breaths mingling as the centimeters rapidly dissipated, neither woman believing this was happening, but also acutely aware that it was and unwilling to stop as the blood thrummed in their ears and drowned out the rustling of the portraits…as lips finally touched the other's.

It was unexpected.

Hesitant.

Unsure.

Exhilarating.

But most importantly, it felt like _home_ as slowly Minerva's lips began moving across Hermione's savory ones. Gently coaxing them as she leaned further into the lushness, fingers pulling Hermione nearer, and the world tipped on its axis as Hermione _willingly_ abided – pressing into Minerva with equal fervor.

Lips skimming, learning as they danced forbiddingly along the other's until more was needed.

More contact.

More feeling.

More.

Minerva felt Hermione's tongue glide across her lips, and without cognizant thought, she opened her mouth against the blissful onslaught…loving the way Hermione's mouth molded around hers.

The way Hermione's tongue drug across Minerva's, eliciting a soft moan; and propelling Hermione to want to go deeper into the woman's secrets as she desperately wanted to finish exploring Minerva's lips and learning what it would take to hear the musical cadence of another delectable moan.

But instead, Minerva began to pull away; and the very thing Hermione wished to hear was yanked from what seemed to be her soul, a whimper ushered from her own lips as long fingers fell from the side of her face as she blinked her eyes open to stare into those that appeared to have been spun from sea glass and her irises lined with silver. "…Min..erva…" she breathed across the warm flesh, desperately wanting to recapture sensual lips as her mind tried to process what had happened, and the more pressing question at the moment – why Minerva had stopped?

"…" Minerva stared into honey eyes, as the world and all of its crushing responsibilities rushed to the forefront bringing tears to her eyes at what she desperately wanted, but couldn't have. No matter how much she wished it otherwise. "…I'm…sorry," she gasped, eyes belaying the depth of her words, "…Bonn…ie." she breathed in little more than a whisper.

Hermione reached forward, hand wrapping around Minerva's waist, desperately needing to understand not only what happened, but why Minerva was pulling away, "Don't leave…"

Minerva lifted her hand and once again ran it across Hermione's flesh, loving the way she leaned into her touch, "…you don't know what you're asking…"

"Then tell me," Hermione leaned forward as a crack sounded next to them, her lips on the cusp of brushing Minerva's once more.

"Madame Minerva, Lady Hermione." Bonnie's voice breaking across the moment, causing both women to pull apart at the clipped voice; as the entire gallery of Headmistresses and Headmasters continued gawking at the scene before them. "Minerva," she tentatively reached out placing her hand atop Minerva's arm, as she softly stated, "it is time to leave."

"…I…" Minerva didn't need to turn to Bonnie to know the look upon her stout friend's face as she tried to regain a semblance of control to enable her to leave with Bonnie; while her eyes remained fastened upon Hermione's visage.

"Will you be at the Manor?"

"She will not," Bonnie answered, hating the promise she was upholding, "and it is incumbent that you don't see her until she returns on Sunday."

Like Minerva, Hermione's gaze didn't drift from Minerva as she asked, "Why?"

"…I'll…tell you," Minerva murmured, "then." And with every last ounce of willpower she broke their gaze and nodded to Bonnie, "Now."

"Minerva…" Hermione began, fingers finding empty air to pull nearer as a rush of cold washed over her body as Bonnie apparated with Minerva, leaving her standing alone and holding nothing.

Seconds passed before she became keenly aware of her surroundings and that every single portrait in Minerva's office was unflinchingly staring at her, except for one – Albus Dumbledore. His portrait was oddly empty.

The rest, remained riveted to her every movement as she slowly lowered her arm and took a deep, calming breath feeling the first semblance of rationale thought despite the way her pulse was still pounding in her veins and her lips thrumming in delight.

Salazar's voice breaking across her thoughts, "You do realize that you are falling for someone whom can't love you."

"Do be quiet, Salazar." Godric snapped.

Black eyes blazed, "You wish to give her false hope!"

"No!" Godric roared back, "Nor do I wish to crush her spirit! For what if _we_ are wrong?!"

"Wrong?! There is no wrong! As Minerva will be dead by her own admittance, or have you suddenly become daft as well as going deaf?"

"I'll have you both cease," Albus' voice suddenly broke across the gallery, having suddenly reappeared, "for Minerva's sake." _And mine as well,_ went unsaid, but the rest of the gallery understood what hadn't been stated and slowly all eyes moved to Albus's portrait as they waited for some type of explanation.

"What did you mean that she can't love me?" Hermione finally managed aloud and as the seconds passed without a response, she stormed forward, "What did you mean Salazar?!"

"The truth, Hermione." Albus softly answered, gazing at her over the frame of his half-moon glasses, "One which you shall have to obtain from Minerva."

Any further discussion became moot as the door opened causing Hermione to practically jump as Marx purposefully strode into the room.

"Headmistress…?" He paused mid-stride upon seeing Hermione and not Minerva standing there, "Hermione?"

"It seems," Hermione forced a hint of a smile onto her face, "we missed her."

Marx glanced up to Salazar, "I thought she'd be available after breakfast."

"She was called away earlier, but I was asked to relay that Mr. Reed's wand should be checked along with his roommates. She believes one of the students was working ahead in charms as second years will begin to learn repellent charms in a few weeks."

"How marvelous," Marx murmured to himself before pausing to look at Hermione, "coming?"

Hermione felt herself nod as she absently began to follow him, mind too stunned to do anything else as she tried to process Salazar's words which were in direct conflict with the way Minerva's lips had danced across hers.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The prestigious gallery waited a full three seconds after Hermione and Marx exited the office, the lock mechanism barely having activated before they began bombarding Albus with questions.

Minutes passed by in a cacophony, and Albus remained eerily still and unresponsive. Another half hour passed before the portraits finally stopped their badgering, the room becoming unseemly quiet.

"We have known you and Minerva for many years Albus," Godric shifted to look at the portrait, "you must know we are merely concerned."

Albus gazed up at the founder who until now had remained quiet, "I am aware."

A whispering went through the gallery but was silenced by Salazar's sharp tongue, "You've been speaking for the better part of an hour, it is now our turn."

Godric waited until the bickering subsided before he once again spoke, "And…are we to infer that the bond between you and Minerva has somehow dissolved or grown weaker?"

Several moments passed before he softly replied, "Neither." He waited for the next question and was surprised that Godric didn't ask, rather Rowena did.

"Does what we witnessed have to do with Minerva's animagus traits? Have they somehow become active again?"

Albus met her unrelenting gaze with his own, before quietly answering, "Since the fire at the Simmons."

A murmuring passed between the portraits at what had been admitted and for how long the problem had been stewing.

"Is it you or she that remains adamant to the betrothal?" Helga questioned, surprising the entire gallery – even Salazar with her brashness. "Do not look at me as if the entire lot of you do not wish to know." She snapped, "And Rowena can speak of this better than I, but to dissuade animagus traits is exceedingly difficult as time lapses; and for Minerva to ignore those characteristics since August, there must be a reason."

"At first, it was I." Albus admitted, "Now, it is her."

"But you remain bound?" Rowena questioned for clarification.

"We do." Albus solemnly stated, his voice echoing the phrase as his eyes once more became unfocused regarding his surroundings, "We do."

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Xoxo

* * *

Helena wiped Minerva's brow as she tossed and turned, body in a fit; albeit asleep. She glanced at the diagnostic readings, "Bonnie," she called out.

"Helena," she appeared looking fatigued, "what else can I get for you?"

"Some more cool water and if you'd be so kind as to bring a few water bottles as well."

"Heated?"

"No, I'm going to cast a cooling charm upon them," Helena explained, "as her body temperature is still higher than I'd like it."

"Will I need to acquire another dreamless draught for later?"

"Another 3 if possible."

Bonnie's brow quirked, "Three?" She asked for clarification.

"It took two earlier, and I'll need at least another three to get me through to Sunday morning."

"Very well, as long as you believe her body can sustain taking it."

"Of the options, I'm certain Minerva would rather ingest an extra potion versus the alternative."

Solemnly Bonnie nodded, "Of that I am certain."

Helena paused in her movements, blue eyes piercing yellow ones, "What happened earlier?"

"Hermione stopped by." Bonnie replied and then with a crack was gone.

"Oh dear," Helena murmured feeling if at all possible, more dreadful than before.

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Xoxo

* * *

Hermione groaned as she strode through the door, her body on fire. "Milksy," she called out, hand already unfastening the seams to her robes.

"Ma'am." Milksy stated appearing in the doorway to her living room.

"I hate to ask this, but I'm going to take a quick shower before lunch; will you pull a fresh set of robes out?"

Concern instantly laced her features as she scanned her charge, "Of course, but is you'se feeling alright?"

"Yeah, just…need to take a quick shower." Hermione answered as she shed her outer robe while undoing her inner one.

"It's be ready for you," Milksy called out into emptiness, hoping Hermione wasn't coming down with the flu before vanishing to get her professor's request taken care of.

Hermione spun on the cold water before taking the last of her clothes off, clothes that mirrored her inner robes – saturated. "What's wrong with me?" She muttered stepping into the cold water, hissing as she did; but relishing the way it seemed to ease the heat that burned across her skin.

She tipped her head enabling the water to run down her neck, chest, breasts...reminding her of the way Minerva's hand had felt as it slid along her skin. And she inadvertently shifted along the water stream, moaning at image of how Minerva's hand would feel in the water's place.

And the heat she had felt earlier, roared back to life, causing her to place both of her hands on the tile and hang her head in the shower; wishing the water was somehow cooler.

Because the heat that had been ignited across her skin, suddenly wanted satiated in the most intimate way possible; and she could think of no better person to satiate it than _Minerva_.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Aurora poured herself a cup of juice as Hermione pulled out the chair next to her, "Did you take another shower?"

Hermione thanked the Founders' forethought for developing the enchanted ceiling, and her luck that this evening it was indeed cloudy outside, so her blush wasn't as noticeable, "I did." She slid her chair to the table, "I think I'm coming down with something."

"Have you been down to see Poppy?" Marx inquired.

"I have not, but I figure I'll go lay down after dinner. I think I'm just…tired."

"I wouldn't doubt it, after everything you've been through the last several months." Aurora stated.

"But if you still aren't well tomorrow, we'll drag you down to see Poppy just to make sure it isn't serious." Marx began dishing a helping of potatoes on his plate.

Hermione felt a genuine smile pass her lips, despite how hot her skin felt and how much she didn't want to be at dinner this evening and would rather be sitting in the basin of her shower letting the cold water run all over her body. "I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning." _At least I hope, _she finished silently, not willing to contemplate feeling like this again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena jerked awake at the moan, blinking her world into focus. "…easy." She murmured resting her hand on Minerva's shoulder.

"What…day…is it?"

"It's still Friday, dear." Helena whispered, shifting as she rubbed her eye with her right hand before waving her hand to display the diagnostic.

"What..'d you give…me?"

"Something to help you get through the weekend without subjecting yourself to hypothermia."

"Hmmm…everything's…foggy…heavy…"

"It's going to be that way for a bit longer."

Minerva's pupils dilated as she tried to focus but failed, however, she knew her dearest friend was there and she reached out…her muscles easing as Helena's hand gripped hers.

"I'm here."

Minerva squeezed her fingers, nodding into the pillow.

"And I'm not leaving."

"…I know..."

Helena kissed her knuckles and held Minerva's hand for several more minutes before Minerva began growing restless, and she had her drink another concoction.

"Just a little longer, love." Helena whispered as the minutes drug by, Minerva's body fighting the potions. It was close to a half hour later that Helena breathed a sigh of relief as Minerva's fingers went slack, her body finally succumbing to the effects.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

_a/n: For those who 'wanted' a kiss...hope it lived up to what you were expecting._


	103. Chapter 98 February 7, 2010

_Thank you for all of your wondrous notes! It means a great deal to me to know that so many people are still reading this story – thank you again! Oh...and the reason for my lack of updates has stemmed from continually hitting the refresh button while I await the second part to Owlofathena's story ;) And if each of you can send warm thoughts to Tigertales along with Tanithw - may their coming year, along with all of yours, be a healthy and joyful one!_

**Chapter 98 ~ February 7****th****, 2010 (Sunday)**

Rose flung open the door, small feet making quick work of the space to the bed as she clambered atop the covers, oblivious to the groan emitted from her mother or the way brown eyes snapped open holding a dichotomy of emotions – panic overshadowing lust.

"Morning, Mum." Rose said as she continued crawling up the bed.

And Hermione was utterly torn as she replied, "Morning honey." She wanted to see her daughter, loved her, but as she began pulling her fingers from the moist saturating warmth between her legs – she couldn't help but want just a little longer to herself as she bit a moan off her lips.

"I am going to take a shower to get ready."

Hermione shifted, "Ready?" Her mind sprung ahead, "For what?"

"Member, you promised us to go see Uncle Harry."

Hermione swallowed her groan as she replied, "Yes, I did, didn't I?"

Rose bobbed her head in affirmation, "Yup, last night. Want me to get Hugo up too so we can go?"

"We'll need to eat breakfast, but yes, go ahead." Rose was already scrambling off the bed as Hermione added an afterthought to Rose's assistance, "Wake your brother nicely, Rose."

"I will…" she answered over her shoulder as she darted from the room, leaving Hermione once again alone. However, her previous actions and desire had been stymied by her daughter's ill-timed interruption.

_Perhaps it for the better,_ Hermione thought as she flipped the covers back and sat up. _I've managed to not resort to that thus far this weekend…despite the way my body has tortuously ached for release. _

Her feet landed upon the cold floor continuing to help ease the thrumming in her veins, _it is better today_, she thought wandlessly summoning her robe, but as she draped it over her arm to head into the bathroom, she stopped moving. _Minerva would be by here today. Here. At Hogwarts. She'd either be in her room or vice versa. _

Her heart skipped a beat as her thoughts spiraled forward.

_She'd see her._

_ And perhaps - kiss her again._

Her skin instantly flushed at the notion of being able to touch those soft lips again, even though a much smaller part of worried at what Minerva had to say.

_But really, _she reasoned for the umpteenth time this weekend, _what could there possibly be to worry about other than she'd perhaps finally learn the truth as to what injured Minerva…_

Her heart eased at her inward response as she entered her bathroom; thoughts buoyed at being able to see Minerva this evening and if her resolve wouldn't falter – express to Minerva that while the kiss had perhaps been unintentional, it did not mean that it was not unwanted.

Because it was.

Merlin, forgive her – it most certainly was.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Helena paused by Albus' portrait, surprised to see him awake. "From your alertness, can I surmise that Minerva's heat is beginning to wane?"

"Thankfully, yes."

"And…" Helena found the question odd to utter, but asked it anyway, "how are you faring?"

His brow arched and blue eyes peered at her questioningly, "You know how I feel, Helena, the same as you would if Harold held a similar affliction."

Helena's lips pursed and she tried to hold back her comment, but much like Minerva had a unique relationship with Harold; she had had an equally close and irreplaceable one with Albus. "She doesn't have an affliction, rather an attribute that is predicated upon her animagus' traits as you well know. As I'm sure you've dealt with this during your marriage."

He bristled at her remark, "There was no dealing, Helena. We _were_ married."

"And you still are," Helena retorted, "as well as bound to each other."

"You are accurate, however, the situation is far different than the last time Minerva had this reaction as I could nullify and satisfy her need. Now, I cannot, hence…we are both miserable. Her far more so and there is nothing I can do about it." His voice took on an almost dejected tone, "And the only way for what you witnessed this weekend to ease, is for her to give in to her desires. Or it will continue to get worse."

"Worse Albus? She barely managed this go around; she cannot and will not be able to make it through another weekend if it is worse."

Their eyes held the others for several long minutes before he let out a long sigh, "I know."

"Can you not…I don't know Albus – make her see reason?"

"Reason, Helena? How? We've tried to break the bond. And even now – I wish I could; however, we cannot."

"You know that is not what I mean," she drawled, "rather for you to give her your blessing and let her sleep with Hermione. I know it would be untenable, but Albus, this…situation is equally so if not more."

"Do you think so little of me?" Her eyes widened at his question and before she could respond, his statement stole the very air from her lungs. "I gave her my blessing." Albus watched as Helena's jaw moved and still no words came out, and he answered her unasked question with a heavy heart. "However, she won't accept it as she views us as still married and will not be unfaithful to our vows."

"Then tell her," she snapped, eyes brimming with tears before her voice broke between them, "you revoke your vows."

"Don't you think that I've tried?" He roared in anguish as his own eyes shimmered with tears that could not be shed.

"Obviously not hard enough," she retorted.

He reached up, taking his glasses off as his shoulders dropped; anguish lacing his normally vibrant cadence. "We hardly spoke for a week after it was discussed, Helena. I don't know what else to say that I haven't said already to her."

"What was her counter-argument?"

"That we were still married. That she _did_ still love me. That she couldn't imagine me having to feel her making love to another."

"And yours?"

"That while she loves me, she is _in_ love with another."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harry leaned back in the cushion peering at Hermione over his cup of tea, "So are you going to tell me what has happened?"

"Happened?" She echoed as she lifted her gaze up to meet his, mildly agitated with herself for letting her thoughts drift while in Harry's presence. _She should have known better._

Olive eyes glinted as he nodded, "Something obviously has to occupy your thoughts so profoundly. You haven't heard a word I've said for the last ten minutes."

"I…"

He shook his head, "It's alright, 'Mione. I'm just concerned is all, after everything we've been through these past few weeks. Are you sure you're alright? Has something else happened with Ron? Or Molly?"

"No," Hermione instantly replied feeling mildly protective of Ron, despite everything that had happened between them and knowing that she needn't be with Harry, "it has nothing to do with the Weasleys'."

His concern deepened, "Your father?"

Her heart skipped a beat, wishing her mother remained alive and that she could see her once more. "No, nor my mother; but just as personal." She admitted as she shifted and forced her gaze back to Harry's. "I've become quite…" Hermione found herself adjusting the adjective at the last moment, because while she had finally acknowledged her love for Minerva – it did not mean she was ready to verbalize it aloud, even to Harry. "…close to Minerva these last several months, and I cannot help but wonder what happened to her over a decade prior that is just now killing her."

Harry set his cup down, easing forward. "Then she hasn't told you."

Hermione sighed, "No. From what I've pieced together, only Helena, Harold and perhaps Rory know."

"I thought," his hands twirled together reminding her of their days back at Hogwarts, "she had and you just were keeping it to yourself."

"No," she reached across the table to lay her hand atop his, "just who her husband was, and you've long since found that out."

A crooked smile pulled on his face, "Yes, and that seems like a life age ago."

"That it does." Hermione's minute smile faded, and as her thoughts returned to their previous musings.

"Hey," Harry turned his hand over, taking hers within his, "I'm sure she'll make it. She's probably just trying to be precautious."

"Merlin, do I wish it were so; but the one thing I can be certain of after the last several months is that she is indeed dying."

He squeezed her hand once more before letting it go, "We'll figure it out."

Abruptly, she stood up turning her back to him, not willing to let him see how her eyes had misted over. "I don't know anymore, Harry. I keep hoping," she walked to the window, "that she'll relay it to me. That I'll be able to find a way to circumvent what happened to her all those years ago. I keep telling myself that there must be a way. That after all that she has given…" she felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around her, embracing her from behind and with a deep sigh permitted her body to slacken into his hold. "But my hope is tempered because what if I can't? Ohh Harry," she turned, tears splashing from her eyes, "what if she tells me and dies anyway? Helena has said it is beyond her scope, how can I possibly think that I can save her?"

Harry kissed her temple as he pulled her to him, "I've never meant a more brilliant witch." He quietly whispered, "If anyone can save her, it'll be you."

She tightened her grip on him not trusting her voice to reply, because what if she couldn't?

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

With a great deal of hesitation, Milan lifted her hand and found the strength to proceed and she heard the distinct sound of a knock resonate as her knuckles connected with the aged oak door.

She let herself take a deep breath and then slowly lifted her hand again, preparing to knock once more when she felt the wards lift along the door and her heart jittered as the door creaked open and she was staring into Percival's face.

A smile instantly breaking across his features before he tempered his reaction, which broke her heart. "Milan, is everything well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I hope I'm not interrupting your morning, but I…well, I was in the area and had hoped you and Audrey would be up for some company."

Doubt lined Percival's eyes, "Is this a personal call or a professional one?"

Milan swallowed her pride as she replied, "Personal with my deepest apologies for the time between my last visit to this one. Minerva said weeks ago that I was a fool for not having maintained my relationship with you and Tessa; that she never spoke of the reasons regarding our discord with each of you." She forced the remainder of the truth from her lips, not willing to be separated from her family anymore. "And that it was up to me to…."

Percival reached across the threshold and pulled her into a fierce hug, "You always did talk too much." He murmured as he felt her arms wrap around him in return before he turned and motioned for her to enter. "Audrey, we have company."

"And you, never enough." Milan quipped in reply as she glanced about the foyer, noticing how much and subsequently how little had changed since she had last visited their home.

"Who?" Audrey called from the kitchen nook.

Percival held his hand to his mouth and nodded his head for her to follow, "An old friend."

"I'm not really dressed…." Audrey pushed her chair back as Percival strode into the kitchen and not even a half step behind him was Milan Peoples. "Milan…" she breathed out disbelieving.

"Audrey," Milan's face beamed at seeing her favorite nephew's wife and then she realized that the weight she had immediately noticed the younger witch had put on along her face…had a cause. "Oh, my…" Her smile became broader, "You're pregnant!"

Audrey nodded, "Eight months."

"Ohhh…" Milan grasped Percival in a bone crushing hug, "Congratulations!" He spun her around, "That is wonderful news! Oh, Audrey, Percival…that is simply wonderful!" No sooner had her feet touched the ground and she was embracing Audrey. "I'm so happy for you both."

"Well, if you came by with a little more frequency…" Audrey gently jibbed Milan.

"I hope to rectify that." Milan honestly replied.

"And what of your discord with Minerva?" Audrey questioned.

"Aud…" Percival began but was cut off by his wife's sharp cadence.

"Don't Audrey me," she snapped, "because as thrilled as I am to see you, Milan. You haven't been here in almost three decades, so pardon me for asking if this is a fly by night visit or have you and Minerva finally mended your discord and put the past to rest?"

The jubilance that had laced Milan's face was all but gone as shock spread across her features at Audrey's directness. "I forgot how blunt you can be," Milan stated hoping to give herself a moment to rebalance.

But Audrey continued pushing, not willing to give the woman a moment's respite, "That hasn't changed, nor has my protective instincts regarding this family."

"Calm down love," Percival tried again, "as she is here to move on, and yes she had mother's blessing."

Audrey's eyes narrowed, "Do you?"

"If you must know, yes. She called me a fool for not maintaining my relations with you and the rest of the family."

"And the issue between you and she?"

"She has forgiven me." Milan answered.

"She forgave you decades ago, the real question is if you have finally forgiven her?"

The room instantly became quiet as husband and wife gazed expectantly at their guest awaiting her answer.

"I hadn't," She finally whispered, "until recently."

"Well, see that you tell her before we speak again." Audrey stated as she stood, "And don't even comment or pretend that you have, as we'd have known because you'd have been invited to one of the many family gatherings of late."

Milan's brow quirked, "How often is everyone getting together?"

"I'm going upstairs," Audrey began moving to the back hallway, stopping as she turned to look back at Milan, "it was delightful to see you, Milan. And heed my advice, speak with Minerva sooner than later."

Milan waited until Audrey had left the room before turning to Percival, "What did she mean? Has something else happened? Is that why the family is meeting so regularly?"

"As much as I'd love to share it with you, you've only just returned and Audrey is right – you need to speak with mother."

She scanned blue eyes, seeing the heartache buried beneath the pending joy of having a child, "Something has happened," she whispered, "to Minerva."

Percival laid his hand atop hers, "Don't Milan. If you must know, then go speak with her. It'll be good for you both."

She nodded, "Very well." A partial smile broke across her face, "I'm so happy for you both, it is such wonderful news."

"It was a bit of a surprise, but we couldn't be happier."

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl or have you decided to wait until it was born to learn its gender?"

"It's a boy. We've spent a little time discussing names, but nothing concrete as of yet."

"What's been bandied about?"

"John, Michael, and Edwin."

"I'm surprised you haven't considered one of the family names."

"We spoke about it, and we may utilize one for his middle name; but we still have a bit of time to decide."

"Four weeks is not a lot of time, Percival."

A coy smile curled the corner of his lips, "True, but then again, neither is a decade to a chestnut tree; because as with most things, it boils down to perspective."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Helena asked as she strode into Minerva's bedroom, immediately noticing that Minerva was sitting upright reading a leather bound journal.

"Tired." Minerva admitted as she met Helena's worried gaze, but tried to put her at ease feigning a smile as she redirected the question back to Helena. "And yourself?"

"Cute," Helena remarked as she strode into Minerva's room, "and ohh so not funny."

"Yes, well…" Minerva's eyes dropped back to the text in her lap, "it was in par with my leisure reading."

"Hogwarts?"

"Aegis' notes."

Helena reached for her glasses, "Aegis' notes?" Her blond brow quirked, "Where did you get those?"

"He left me part of his estate."

"Really?" Her voice belaying her surprise, "You've received part of the Black estate?"

"No, well…" she sighed as she reached up and pulled her glasses off, "yes, but not precisely. As Aegis is leaving the official Black estate to Edmund or perhaps another member of the Black family; however, he is leaving the Wicket estate to me."

"Did you say Wicket?" Helena rasped.

"Yes," Minerva felt a sudden sense of dread swell in her breast at the lack of color within Helena's face, "it's been in the Black family since the 1800's, after the Wicket family died it remained within their estate. Aegis took me there…" her cadence shifted, as their eyes locked, "wait, what do you know?"

"Know?" Helena repeated.

"You're echoing," Minerva's stated softly, eyes questioning her dearest friend. "Helena," she stretched out her hand and laid it upon Helena's forearm, "what?"

"I was merely surprised," Helena tried and at the way Minerva's lips became firm knew that she had to try another route. "You are after all talking about the famed Wicket estate, the same estate that no one has been to in generations; believed it was destroyed during the fallout between the Black and Wicket families. And to be there…"

Green eyes narrowed as she replied, "From what I've seen, it's a gorgeous estate, and I wish I had more time to explore it; and that is not the cause of the spark I saw flash across your eyes. Dear, what is it?"

"Damn I hate your curious second nature," blue eyes dropped away from her friends' green ones, "you know there are some things I can't tell you."

"The last of their family has been dead for two centuries." Green eyes widened as blue orbs lifted and the truth shone through them, "There is another…oh my God Helena, the lineage remains intact." Surprise cascading across her features as she breathed the truth between them, "You know who it is."

"Don't ask me who…"

She sighed, "It's not as though I'll be alive in a few weeks, Helena. If you know who it is, then I beseech you – tell me who, so that I may leave the estate to whom it rightfully belongs."

Seconds passed in agonizing slowness as Helena grappled with Minerva's heartfelt words, words that tore through her defenses because like it or not; they were accurate and nothing could be done about it. However, that didn't mean Minerva had the right to…

"Filius." Minerva breathed the name without thought causing Helena's eyes to widen in affirmation. "Somehow, some way, something happened." She stated in little more than a whisper, "You found out years ago through a blood or DNA test, he knows that he's related to the Wicket lineage. Is he a direct relation?"

"We've never spoken about it since the day I found out." Helena admitted, settling closer to Minerva's waist as she fully sat on the bed's edge. "It was a fluke, really; I was busy testing the Wicket line with Marion." Helena knew that Minerva was aware of what she and her friends' used to do to pass some of their tedium while on overnight rotation. "We had both decided to test our friends." A light sparked in blue irises as s rueful smile passed pink lips, "You and Philip were first, followed by Harold and then she did three of her friends; and so on until Filius flashed positive. Of course, we both believed the other had doctored the results, and we tested his blood again. It confirmed he was related to the Wicket line."

"He's the patriarch of the sample within your vault and that's why…he never goes near a time turner; he knows." She leaned back, floored by her realization, "That letter was from him…"

"Wait, what letter?"

Minerva explained about the letter she read, courtesy of Isis while at the Wicket estate.

"You are mentioned by name in this letter?"

"Minerva Katherine McGonagall, so I'd say so."

"It infers that you were longtime friends," Minerva nodded as Helena continued, "which would preclude the letter having been written before the war with Grindlewald. I told him of his relation at the onset of the first war with Voldemort; and he was unabashedly shocked before stoutly denying the results. So we could surmise that to that juncture, he didn't know and had not traveled and somehow returned from the distant past."

"I've worked with him since 1963, and Albus and I had far more time slips than Filius. By the time the first war with the Voldemort surfaced, he devoutly refused to carry a time turner unless absolutely necessary."

"Then he hasn't gone to the distant past as of yet."

"Are you sure he's related?"

Certainty reflected across azure irises as she answered, "Yes. The sample in the vault is from Patrick Wicket. He died at St. Mungos; a tissue and blood sample was preserved as were several others throughout the centuries. That is how we can confirm blood lines."

"Wasn't Patrick the earliestof the known Wicket's?"

"He's Filius' son, that's why I could tie the markers. Even Filius' parents do not tie back."

"You mean Graham lived?"

"No, I performed the autopsy on him myself. He had another son, one whom is related to Filius but not Pomona."

Minerva's face blanched, "What?"

"Filius has at least one more child, one that somehow is from before 300 A.D. because he died in 307 A.D."

"And Patrick is not related to Pomona?"

With aching slowness, Helena shook her head. "No, she is not the mother."

"Did he…when you spoke to him about this; did he acknowledge the birth of another child?"

"No, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"True, however, if his son somehow went back in time; it doesn't explain the letter Isis showed me."

Helena sighed, "Then he must go back."

"I don't foresee how, as he won't go near a time turner."

"Did the letter appear foraged?"

"It was Filius' handwriting, and from the age of the parchment it was not foraged."

"An accident must happen or has…" Helena mused, "perhaps his body was splintered unbeknownst to him into two – one remained in this time period and the other 1800 years ago."

"Possible, you'll have to ask Harold if there are any records on file with the Ministry regarding an accident of that nature."

"I will this evening, but from what we know – it seems as though something will happen to him." Her voice became thicker as she finished, "And from the context of the letter, it would appear sooner than later as you are still alive."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Minerva's gaze moved past Helena and to the window, "It seems as though everything I have planned for my departure has been for naught."

Helena laid her hand upon Minerva's shoulder in a comforting gesture as emerald eyes became blurry, "It'll work out."

"Filius…gone, I'll be dead…" a tear fell from ebony lashes, "Johannes…probably still at large, you and Harold…"

"Don't Minerva," Helena's hand slid around Minerva's back to her other shoulder and pulled her into an embrace, "we'll both be fine."

"And our children?"

Helena felt her own tears push against the back of her eyes, "I don't know what will happen," she softly admitted, "only that somehow, it'll work out."

"But at what cost? Your and Harold's life? Rory's? Our children?" An unbidden image of Hermione's body lying lifeless, staring up at the sky caused her voice to break, "Herm…ione?"

Helena tightened her arms around Minerva's thin frame, "She'll live through this," she whispered while kissing the top of Minerva's head. "Of that I am certain."

"You can't know." Minerva rasped.

"I do, as I've done the calculations over a dozen times." Helena affirmed, "She and her children live." She rested her head along Minerva's, "They'll go to Hogwarts, along with your grandchildren and mine."

Minerva's voice barely heard as she asked, "And you?"

"We will be dead a few weeks before the summer solstice, so don't you and Albus go too far."

Minerva pulled Helena's arms closer, "We won't…" she murmured, "we won't."

They sat there, embraced in the other's love and friendship, neither willing to let the moment go because there were only so many moments left before there weren't any more. Close to a half hour passed before Helena's raw voice broke the quietness, "What happened the other morning with Hermione?"

Minerva answered with a groan, "Can I just stay here for the next month?"

"You can, if that is what you really want."

"Versus the alternative for the evening, I am exceedingly tempted."

"Minerva…?" Helena went to move to look into her face, but Minerva held her in place.

"Please, just…stay." Minerva whispered, "This evening is going to be anything but comforting and I just…need this…"

"You don't have to talk to her." Helena stated, trying to read why her friend was upset at the notion of going back to Hogwarts.

"I promised her I would."

Helena delved forward, "Regarding what piece?"

"The reason why I kissed her."

Despite Minerva's request, Helena jerked around to face her dearest friend, shock lining her face, "What?!"

Turbulent emerald eyes fixed upon Helena as she repeated, "I kissed her."

"Friday morning."

"She came in before I was able to leave."

"And you kissed her. Bonnie said she appeared before you left, but…I never thought…you have been so adamant about not doing anything."

"Adamancy aside, there is a pull that exists between us that is becoming difficult under normal circumstances let alone during my infernal cycle."

The corner of Helena's lips curled upwards as she repeated, "You kissed her."

"I did." Minerva confirmed.

"And?" Helena questioned, "Was it deplorable or would you like to do it again?"

"For Merlin's sake, Helena – you do realize that I have to go back there this evening and face her." She began to move away, "Along with having promised to explain why."

Helena pushed her jubilance aside at the notion that Minerva's firm control slipped and she kissed Hermione, "You can't fault how you feel."

"How I feel?" Minerva snapped as she spun back to Helena who was still sitting on the bed, "This isn't about how I feel."

"Then what _is_ it about?"

Proud shoulders dropped, "The truth."

"Which she deserves to know." Helena said while slipping off the bed.

Minerva turned away, moving towards the window. "She'll never forgive me,"

"She will." Helena countered, "But you need to be honest."

"I'm going to be." Minerva said as she stopped before the window's ledge, fingers resting atop the granite.

"Including how you feel." Helena ventured.

"I'll tell her of Albus, our bond and the issue regarding my cycle."

"And that you love her."

Minerva watched as the waves crashed into the shoreline, "No." She finally breathed, "She is to know nothing of it."

"Minerva…"

She steeled herself and turned to meet Helena as she repeated her answer, her resolve akin to years past, "No." Eyes hardened, "It is going to be dreadful as it is, for both she and I. She needs to move past me, and part of enabling that is for her to believe that anything that has been building between us is solely because of my cycle."

"You can't…"

"I'll be dead in a month, Helena; I most certainly can. And you will too."

"What if she loves you?"

"All the more reason for her to believe that it is because of my cycle, hopefully enabling her to grieve and move on far sooner than the alternative."

"And you," Helena pushed onward, "what if you live for another two months and have to go through another cycle? Your body won't survive the strain, and damn you to hell, would it be so terrible to give in and actually have a moment of happiness even if it is in her arms?"

"If I'm still alive in five weeks, then you'll have gotten your wish as I'll be damned and undoubtedly have to sleep with someone – but it will _not _be Hermione." Helena opened her mouth to rebuke her statement, but Minerva overrode any words about to be spoken opting to drive the point home to Helena whilst also killing her own heart too, "I will not do that to Albus, nor myself no matter my feelings regarding Hermione. Because while I understand where you are coming from in wanting me to be happy and to be able to love again, I do love Albus. I cherish our love and our vows and I will not desecrate them even with his blessing, because he would be forced to feel me love another. And I just…" her voice cracked as she finished, "can't. Merlin forgive me, I can't. But God knows… I _do_ love her. And so, I will do the only thing I can…"

Helena nodded as she wrapped her arms around Minerva, "You'll let her go."

Minerva didn't verbally respond as she nodded against Helena's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, love." Helena whispered against her skin.

"So am I…" Minerva brokenly replied, "so am I…"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hugo bounced into the room, "Is Máthair coming before or after dinner?"

Hugo's question immediately drew Rose's gaze to Hermione who cast a glance to the clock noting that it was almost time for dinner and tried not to let her own disappointment show that Minerva had not arrived as of yet, "Probably after dinner as I don't think she has returned to Hogwarts yet."

"She just arrived and is going to speak with Filius before attending dinner," Godric chimed in, hoping to be helpful having noted how out of sorts Hermione had been since Minerva's departure. Undoubtedly it dealt with what had happened Friday morning. And from the spark of hope that flashed in mocha eyes, it only confirmed the Founders ruminations these past days – that the feelings were mutual, which bode ill for Albus and Minerva, their bond, and the immediate future.

"Then she is…well?" Hermione asked, hoping she wasn't too obvious.

"She appears tired, but I'm sure she'll apprise you." Godric carefully replied.

"Then she is coming here this evening before we go back with Grandpa?" Rose asked, voice lined with hope.

Godric's gaze didn't leave Hermione's as he answered the young lady, "I believe that she plans on seeing you."

Hugo jumped around, "Yeah! Yeah!" as Rose's smile broke fully across her face at the news and Hermione's head tipped downward but not enough that Godric couldn't make out the shy smile playing on her lips as pupils dilated and a hint of a blush laced her cheeks.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Filius opened the door and was both elated and worried at seeing his longtime friend on the other side of the door, "Please come in." He said motioning her into his living area.

"Is Pomona here?" Minerva questioned as she entered, eyes glancing about.

"No, she's transplanting some Mandrakes in greenhouse 2," Filius replied, "is everything alright, Minerva?" He questioned, noticing that she seemed on edge as he took a seat opposite of her, "Forgive my bluntness, but you look rather dreadful this evening."

"And I fear I shall look even worse by this evening's end," Minerva said with a sigh, "but I was hoping to speak with you regarding two items of import."

"Of course, anything I can do."

"The first is that I am going to speak with Hermione regarding some harbored truths, and it would be better if our conversation remains undisturbed."

Filius wanted to ask, but from the muted eyes staring back at him, he curtailed his own curiosity. "Consider it done. And the second?"

Minerva shifted, fingers lacing in her lap. "I came into possession of an old family estate, one that I'd appreciate your council on."

Intrigue laced golden orbs, "Whose?" Minerva watched as Filius' keen intellect sorted through bits of information and how that would relate to her; "I thought Brunt's estate was being liquefied."

"It is, as I'm asking a friend to acquire the books for the Manor's collection."

"Then, who…" his voice died away as eyes widened and his hand went to cover his mouth as he subtly shook his head as he realized whose estate she was speaking about before he breathed out a strangled, "…no."

"I'm dying, Filius and you…"

"Can't." He finally managed to eke out despite his anxiety as his eyes flickered to the door. "Minerva, I don't know how…but you must leave and never speak of this again."

She reached out, laying her hand upon his arm, "I _do_ understand, but you also must understand that I'm dying and do not want _that_ estate liquidated."

"Then it shall be liquidated as I've never had any other children, nor will I as I had a vasectomy after Lizza's birth because of the problems Pomona had during the pregnancy."

"At least consider it," Minerva began but stopped as they both turned to the noise of the door opening, signifying that Pomona had returned and that this conversation was over.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but glance towards Minerva's empty seat as she wondered for the umpteenth time whether or not Minerva would be joining them for dinner. However, after another half hour passed, it became rather apparent that she would not, which was probably better in the long run – because Hermione didn't know how she'd have kept her eyes off her.

She was having a devil of a time keeping her thoughts focused without the alluring woman in the same room; she was certain that it would be an utterly lost cause once they were within the same space. And she couldn't help the smile from passing over her face at the mere thought of being able to kiss Minerva again…and soon too.

Aurora interrupted her thoughts, asking her about some letter or letters and it wasn't until she was several questions into the conversation that she realized that Aurora had noticed her odd behavior…

And she was discreetly trying to determine who had caught Hermione's attention…and it only caused Hermione's heart to flutter more; because who would believe that she, Hermione Jean Granger had fallen for Minerva McGonagall.

It was absurd.

Ludicrous even.

But she'd not have it any other way, because for better or worse – she loved her.

And it felt damn good.

* * *

oxoxo

* * *

Minerva closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her heart along with her resolve; wishing for more time, but knowing that she had been fortunate to have made it this far without having to divulge the truth. However, knowing it and living through having to tell another person the extent of her predicament were many things – similar they were not.

And this was not just another person.

It was someone she – loved. Not as a child or a family member or even a cherished friend, but if life had been different, assuredly as a lover would.

And after tonight, she feared the one thing she still treasured most in this world would be ruined or at the least turned to ash. Because how could this woman still want to be friends with her after having deceived her?

With one more steadying breath, she pushed aside her reservations about how the evening would unfold; hoping she was sorely mistaken, but in her soul, knowing that she wasn't before she opened her eyes and let her gaze solidify upon Godric who was staring at her, waiting.

"If you'd ask Hermione if she has some time to see me; and then as instructed, I wish us to be alone, even from you, Godric."

A forlorn expression came over his painted features, "It will go better than you hope, Minerva."

"As much as I wish to believe you my friend, in this instance, I am doubtful. Now, if you could let Hermione know I am here."

"Be advised, her children are here as well."

"Of course…" Minerva muttered into the still air, _why does everything have to be so damn difficult?_

However, her internal monologue was stifled as two jubilant voices echoed off the walls only seconds before latching onto her legs and clambering up her body as both Rose and Hugo vied for her attention. Both children jabbering about what they had done since they had last seen her, including how much they liked the house they were staying at with their grandfather. They spoke of visiting with their Uncle Harry and their cousins, and they were planning on coming back next weekend to see their mom along with her too. And Minerva felt her heart stop at the look of adoration and expectation upon each of their faces as she said that she'd make time to see them, when in truth she didn't know if that would be an option after her looming conversation with Hermione.

But as rapid as the thought came to fruition, it was dampened just as quickly as both Rose and Hugo continued chattering on about their comings and goings. Another half hour passed before Minerva managed to disengage the children with Hermione's assistance. "But we want to visit longer." Rose stated, hoping that their máthair would agree with her.

"As would I, but it is approaching your bed time."

"But Mom…." Rose began but snapped her mouth shut at her mother's raised brow, "does that mean we is going back to Grandpa's?"

"Yes it does," Hermione answered as her eyes flickered to Minerva's, hoping to catch what had become elusive green ones for the past hour to no avail. "So you and Hugo need to go pack your things."

"Alright," she muttered, "come on Hugo."

Hermione watched as her children ambled to their rooms and waited until they were both busy before turning to Minerva, "How are you this evening?"

Minerva inwardly wished that the two dervish buffers remained, but knew it had only been a matter of time before they were alone. "A bit tired," she honestly replied, "yourself?"

Brown eyes washed over angular features as she responded, "Curious."

Ebony brow arched at Hermione's response, "Undoubtedly," she carefully quipped.

"Mum," Hugo called out interrupting the two women, "You is helpsing me gets my phoenix?"

Hermione didn't move her gaze off of Minerva as she answered, "Coming," she placed her hands on her thighs and stood, "give me a few minutes and it'll just be the two of us."

Minerva felt herself nod in reply, wishing for a steep glass of whisky to ease her nerves as the seconds seemed to languish by in limbo as she waited for Hermione's return.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

It had taken longer than she had anticipated for her children to depart and pass along the pertinent information to her father regarding what had happened the past two days. But, they were in Crete with her father and she was finally alone with Minerva.

Her heart swelled at being able to spend some time with the elder woman, and as she stepped into the doorway, she paused at the threshold and openly stared at Minerva's form. Her back was facing Hermione as she stared out the partially frosted window, tailored emerald robes draping over her lithe frame and proud back. The way the light flickered across her pale skin, long neck and high cheekbones; and how she could see a few wisps of hair having fallen from her bun to lay across her nape undoubtedly caused by her children's hugs.

Without thought, her feet carried her across the expanse; the crackling fire undoubtedly masking her footsteps, until she was barely within a meter and Minerva turned, eyes wide by her proximity and Hermione felt the apology leave her lips before thought was given.

"I didn't mean to startle you," her words were soft and heartfelt; but it was the flicker of shame that passed over emerald orbs that instantly worried her. "Minerva?"

"The children got off safe?" Minerva questioned, ignoring the sudden worry emanating from Hermione's features.

"Yes, I spoke with father and they're fine." She let her eyes wash over Minerva's form as she took a step closer, voice becoming raspier as she neared. "But you don't seem to be."

"It has been a long weekend," Minerva thickly replied Hermione's body came to within a half meter of her own, and she had to fight to keep from backing away.

"It has." Hermione agreed easily reading the reservations ebbing from the other woman as she lifted her hand to cup left side of Minerva's face, and at the barest amount of contact Minerva's face dropped away – causing the worry she had felt earlier to intensify a hundred fold. "Minerva…?"

"I said I'd explain it to you this evening," Minerva willed herself to lift her gaze once more as she reached out and took Hermione's right hand within her own, "but I want you to know before I enumerate on my circumstances, that I have and do trust you."

Chestnut colored brows furloughed, "I know," she breathed, eyes roving over hesitant features, "what is troubling you? Surely not whatever you have to tell me, it will be fine."

"I do wish so," Minerva said squeezing dexterous fingers before letting them go and stepping to the side and around Hermione, not wanting to be in the proverbial corner while relaying what she had come here to say to her. She paused and turned three paces away, clenching her left hand as she met Hermione's apprehensive gaze and forced herself to find a way to start what she could only classify as the beginning of the end. "I hope by this evening's end, you won't think less of me." Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt, but Minerva raised her right hand, "Please, let me at the very least start, as this is many things – easy not being among them." At that Hermione clamped her mouth shut and Minerva began. "I…" she felt a nervous chuckle want to erupt from her lips at the absurdity, "I almost don't know where to begin."

"Perhaps with why I felt as though my body was on fire for the weekend." Hermione interjected as her cheeks darkened, along with Minerva's as a blush spread up her neck and colored her cheeks too.

"Yes, perhaps there." Minerva agreed, momentarily forgetting about the far more reaching aspect of the conversation to be had as she flushed with embarrassment.

"I've never felt that way before." Hermione admitted, wanting Minerva to know that she was not judging her; merely trying to understand, hence there was no need for embarrassment.

"I'm not surprised," Minerva replied, "as what you were feeling was because of your body's reaction to mine."

"What?"

"In addition to the more appealing aspects of being an animagus, there are drawbacks too."

"You're saying what I felt Friday through this morning was due to you being an animagus?" Doubt lacing her intonation.

"Rather one particular aspect of being a cat animagus, which is manifesting itself because of additional circumstances that I'll get to momentarily."

"I don't recall making someone's skin feel as though liquid fire was upon it as one of a cat's innate characteristics when I looked them up."

"You looked up what type of characteristics a cat has?" Surprise easily discernible in her voice.

"Of course, as well as those characteristics associated with a wolf. I recall the ability to stay warm even under frigid conditions, which is how I think you lived that night when you collapsed before the gates; an acute sense of smell which is how you found Helena and I'm sure helps you in your daily life, I just haven't figured out to what extent; hearing was another one, which is how you saved both of our lives when Helena was behind the door at St. Mungos and you stopped us from being in the way of a plasma bolt; there are others, and I'm sure they are part of you and given enough time I'm positive I'll see them. But of what I've read, I don't recall what you are suggesting."

"Yes, well, you are accurate regarding the crossover between my animagus characteristics and my senses while a human. As time has passed, the line that once existed regarding my animal sense has long since blurred with my senses as a human. My sense of smell has become exceedingly acute, while not as much as when I am either a cat or a wolf, I can still smell the type of everyone's cologne, perfume or soap used within the room."

"So, right now, you can tell what type of soap I used this morning?"

"You used a mixture of almond with oatmeal, laced with honey and vanilla. However, it is dampened by the oak from your fire."

"Helena said that you played a game, guessing who everyone was whilst blindfolded; and that you easily ascertained each person."

"I know the scents of my close friends and their spouses, it's become second nature."

"What if…I changed my soap or shampoo? Wouldn't that alter my scent?"

Minerva carefully responded, not wanting to delve too much deeper into this for fear of where it would lead. Because while the superfluous scents would change, the deeper base scent of a person remained the same. Like hers. She'd recognize _her_ anywhere. "Moderately," she finally answered, "but only just."

"Do you remember everyone's or just your friends and family?"

"Just close friends and family," Minerva answered, "and regarding what you felt, it has to do with my cat animagus and the…" she felt her blush renew as she forced the words past her throat, "heat cycle I go through."

"Heat cycle…" Hermione repeated, before realization struck and her eyes widened, "as in a cat's heat? That type of heat cycle?" Her cadence raising an octave with each question she asked. "The kind that causes a cat to…to want to…" her cheeks burned red, "mate?"

"Quite," Minerva curtly replied.

"And…" Hermione was at a loss, truly not knowing how one predicated another and how that ultimately related to her. She was a woman after all, as was Minerva, so for them to mate…her mind stopped processing at the notion and simply stared for an indefinite period of time before some type of brain function returned. "And…how does this relate to me?"

"If you'll permit me a moment," Minerva inwardly called Elgin who instantly appeared, "if you could bring me a full tumbler of something steep."

"Me too." Hermione breathed before Elgin blinked away.

"This is…difficult." Minerva admitted, "The only two who have any knowledge of this is Albus and due to recent events, Helena." She fingered her broach off, and it molded into her wedding ring around her finger as deft fingers unclasped the hasp along the top of robes opening them incrementally and exposing the hollow of her throat before Elgin reappeared, glasses in hand.

Elgin handed one to Minerva and levitated the one to Hermione, "Will you'se be needing anything else?"

"No, but thank you." Minerva replied and he vanished at once, not wishing to remain to hear what was going to spoken about this evening.

"Minerva, please don't feel that I think less of you." She began to move forward, but Minerva lifted her hand once more.

"I implore you Hermione, let me finish before coming closer." At Hermione's faint nod, she felt a measure of relief ebb into her bones, "When I became an animagus, I didn't know what was happening. I began to feel…urges." She shook her head at her own lackluster description to what had happened to her, "It occurred a week before shall we say my own cycle and would last three days. Initially, I thought I could forestall it, after all I was a person not an animal. But with each passing time, it became more difficult. The allure to those around me, more pronounced for both them and I. However, I was brought up to believe that one does not take a lover carelessly; but with each time I resisted, the following month became even harder until one time I felt as though my body betrayed me."

"You slept with someone." Hermione softly interjected.

Minerva nodded, "I woke with my body draped over another's and even then, I was not compelled to leave, my body wasn't satiated." She cleared her throat, trying not to notice the light blush along Hermione's neck. "And so, I began to realize that I could direct my problem for lack of better phrase, and from time to time would leave Britain for a long weekend. But after a period of time, I stopped leaving, trying to overcome my animagus needs; believing it was within my ability. However, it wasn't; and after several months of staving off my problem, I had an instance where I was no longer attracted to those around me, and while they noticed me, it was not with the same allure. I remember thinking that I had finally found a way to deal with my cyclic problem when a friend walked in to the bar and everything I knew to that point regarding my animagus heat was moot. After ignoring my heat for so long, my body seeks a mate of its own, beginning to override my mind. As my animagus wants and needs to mate, it's part of its survival mechanism, and as such, part of mine as well."

"But you've had children and a husband." Hermione replied, "I'd have thought the survival aspect would be moot."

"You're right, I am married and do have children; and hadn't had a heat cycle in fifteen years."

"Then that isn't what you are going through?"

"I wish," Minerva cleared her throat, "something happened the night at the Simmon's and it since then, I've…well…I've been in heat."

Hermione unabashedly stared at Minerva. There were no words. What was she to say? What did this mean? Is this why she felt the way she did towards her?

However, the next bit rang in her mind far after the words had been uttered.

"And for the last three cycles, my body has wanted…you."

Without thought, Hermione upended the drink in her hand, wishing the glass was somehow larger as she came to the bottom far too quickly before she gasped aloud, "Me?"

"That is why I have left Hogwarts for several days at a time, and Friday morning, I was in the process of leaving when you came to my office. I tried to fight it, and I am sorry for what happened…"

Hermione's shock to what Minerva said finally wore off as Minerva apologized, and she immediately interrupted, "Heat or not, Minerva, there is something has been developing between us."

"I'd like to agree, but…" Minerva breathed out a marginal breath and drank her own tumbler down, "there is more."

"More? I don't foresee…"

"I should not be in heat." Minerva stated over Hermione's words while setting her glass upon the table to her left.

"You said as such, it started after the fire at the Simmon's property."

"Yes," Minerva agreed, "and I'm sorry for misspeaking, for what I should have said is that I should not be in heat with any other…" she willed her gaze to remain fixed upon Hermione's face as she admitted the harrowing truth, "as I'm bound."

"Bound?" Hermione quietly repeated.

Slowly, Minerva nodded.

"To who?" Hermione questioned as her sharp intellect raced forward, piecing the hundreds of clues together, and feeling her heart plummet to her toes at her own foolishness and stupidity as she answered her own question, "Albus. Somehow you lived when he died…" Eyes flashed as the memory of Minerva's crumpled body along the corridor came to mind, "the night he died, when I came around the corner…you were…" her voice cracked as she continued speaking, "you were dying, but something happened that caused you to live but…it's still killing you."

"We became bound the summer of 1972." Minerva's voice sounding foreign to her own ears as she continued on, "Our bond is what saved my life the night of the stunner's attack, along with Albus' life the night he went after Marvolo's ring. It was a difficult summer for us, and while we had lived, it was apparent that it would at best be temporary. The poison was killing us, and while it took longer because of our bond, Helena gave us a year perhaps two. We had several arguments over severing the bond, but I'd have none of it. Then he was cursed off the Tower, and I have never felt as I did that night as his death raked over me, the curse that struck him stealing the very air I breathed as death came upon me. But I was saved, and similarly cursed. Hogwarts stymied our bond, partially severing and stifling it; thereby saving me, but also, cursing me."

It was too much, too fast and Hermione felt nauseas. _While she wanted the truth, never in her wildest dreams did it involve Minerva being bound to Albus. Still bound. Not available…._her heart ached. "You…are still bound to Albus."

Minerva could see the truth sinking into her consciousness, "Yes." Fully aware that the moments of cordiality were rapidly slipping away.

"So…while the rest of the world thought he dead, he's what – a ghost? Or is he still alive and hiding at your second home?"

"He is dead, but a piece of him exists within me." Minerva softly answered, "As we are one, and therefore, a piece of me is with him."

"I read a few books on bonding, trying to understand the Harrisons, I've never heard of one surviving without the other."

"Neither have I," Minerva agreed, "and since the accident I have studied it extensively."

"So you're telling me that you and he are still bound, and that he is somehow with you and you him?"

Minerva steeled herself as she answered the question as it was posed, "Yes, we are still bound and we both can still feel the other."

Hermione was trying to understand, but the harsh reality of what was being discussed was stripping her logic aside; _because the truth was…if Minerva was still bound, then she could not love her. Had never loved her. She had been foolish to believe…_she squelched the thoughts down and pushed her feelings aside, "And this…you and he, your bond, can you communicate?"

"Through his portrait."

"His portrait?!" She laughed, tears in her eyes as she did, "How utterly perfect…" she muttered, "and to think…" her voice rose three levels, "I told him…"

"Told him?" Minerva questioned.

"Yeah," Hermione wiped at her eyes, "but there you both were, bound, and here I was thinking that…perhaps you could love me…and I _asked_ him. Him…of all the damn portraits. What he thought of you being able to love a woman…"

"Hermione," Minerva began but was cut off as the younger woman's voice.

"Don't." She said shaking her head, "Just…don't. I'm trying to understand," she rasped, "but I seem to be stumbling over myself at the moment, because I thought…there was a connection between us. And now, I can see how wrong I was, and the whole damn time…you've been bound. I should have seen it at least, it was there, plain as day – a hundred times over. It wasn't as though you hid it. You just didn't announce it. From the passage on the his ring, sparse comments, Helena's dodging…" she paused in her diatribe to peer at the woman opposite, "and when you say you shouldn't feel anything because you are bound to him, what does that mean?"

Minerva felt a vice squeeze her heart as she met the openly wounded woman before her, "I shouldn't want to…" she altered the words from make love to what needed to be said, knowing full well it was going to kill her and forever wound the woman who held her heart, "have sex with someone other than he, but as he's beyond the veil..."

"I'm second fiddle…" Hermione rasped and Minerva inwardly recoiled at the spite in her tone.

"No…" She breathed, causing harried brown eyes to latch upon her own; and Minerva fought hard to keep the love she felt the younger woman at bay, feeling her soul recoil with each painstaking moment that drug out between them until finally Hermione stepped near her.

Hermione couldn't breathe as she stared into Minerva's eyes, wanting to believe that her dreams had not just been utterly ruined and cast aside because of her own foolishness and inability to see what was so blatantly before her. She summoned her resolve, hoping that the furtive glances, gentle touches, heartfelt moments, and smoldering kiss meant what she wholeheartedly believed in her soul and with every scrap of Gryffindor courage, she asked her soul's question, voice barely loud enough to pass between them. "Do you love me?"

And Minerva was damned as she opened her mouth to say yes, but found the strength to utter an apology as tears blurred her vision, "I'm sorry, my dear." Her contralto breaking with her heart, "I'm so sorry…"

Brown eyes hardened as her jaw clenched, as she brokenly clipped a string of words past her lips. "You need to leave, Minerva."

Minerva moved past Hermione, pausing a step beyond her, and she reached back and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder...and at the strangled gasp leaving Hermione's lips followed by an utterly heartbroken plea to leave, Minerva removed her hand as if singed, fleeing her old quarters as though her robes had been on fire and it wasn't until she had strode halfway to her own rooms through the inner passageway did she stop as her back collided with the stone wall and she sank downward as a strangled gasp slipped past her lips as she realized that she had done what she had set out to do - enable Hermione to move on, but Hermione's sobs resonated in her ears, mimicking her own sobs as tears slip unbidden down her lashes and splashed off her cheeks as her heart crumbled and her soul wept for what she had lost and whom she had irrevocably hurt.

Her bond pulsed in comfort causing the tears to fall even harder.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: As always - hope you enjoyed and Happy New Year!_


	104. Chapter 99 February 8th, 2010

**Chapter 99 ~ February 8****th****, 2010 (Monday)**

Filius furtively cast a glance past Minerva, to Hermione once more, confirming her features mirrored Minerva's – haggard. Whatever was discussed between them last evening had obviously gone ill, if Minerva's feigned cheer was any indication.

And he feared what the nature of the conversation stemmed around. Because no matter what was said or how it was broached, the odds of it going any way other than poor was miniscule.

Which meant the next several weeks were going to be longer than they already were shaping up to be. Not that he minded, no. It just meant that staff meetings, head of house meetings, Order meetings, were going to be many, many things – warm between the two women would probably not be the most noted characteristic.

Vaguely he heard Aurora ask Hermione if she was alright, but her response was negated as Minerva slid her chair back. "I'm afraid I have a meeting at the Ministry," she gave him a curt nod while standing and with accustomed ease, she picked up her walking stick and within a handful of steps had departed the Great Hall.

He reached for his pumpkin juice, eyes trailing down to Hermione once more, and could see that her posture had eased. _So much for being wrong,_ he thought already dreading their weekly Head of House meeting.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione was exhausted; physically, mentally and emotionally. She banished the cork from the pepper up potion and downed it in a hearty swallow wincing at the gelatinous texture, idly wondering how Minerva drank several of these per day before her fingers tightened upon the bottle and a wave of emotion rolled over her consciousness and for the tenth time since she'd left her quarters this morning – she fought back the tears.

Tears at her own foolishness.

Tears of loss.

Tears of heartache.

… of sadness.

… of soul shattering pain.

… of anger.

And just tears.

It didn't seem as though her body would ever stop producing them.

No matter how much she wished it would, because she just…couldn't take it anymore. Puffy eyes glanced to the door before straying to the clock, _two more classes_, she thought. _I just have to get through two more classes before being able to retreat back to my rooms. _Her heart clenched at the thought of her rooms as Minerva's distinct image swelled before her eyes of Minerva staring out her window – back to her, momentarily oblivious as she had let her gaze stray up long lean lines. And how in that moment, the world had seemed so full of promise, hope…

The antiquated bell sounded yanking the memory away; much like the woman had done to her distorted beliefs. With a wave of her hand she banished the bottle, and with slightly more effort she cast a glamour charm to erase the remnants of her disjointed thoughts as she plastered a smile on her face to greet her next class.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva closed the letter, her hands shaking as she embossed her seal in the wax; and with a great deal of concentration, she shifted the wards and sent it to her Deputy.

She needed him to conduct the Head of House meeting this afternoon. She just wasn't capable of doing it.

She was too raw. Undoubtedly so was Hermione.

The last thing she wanted or needed to do was to put either of them in an untenable situation after last night.

After whispered words had asked her if she loved Hermione.

After she had had to crush not only Hermione's heart but she feared her spirit too – while she had willingly thrust a stave through her own heart.

"Minerva," Albus' soft tenor a calming balm to her weary soul, "please tell her of your feelings."

She sighed through brewing tears, "To what end, Albus? I will be dead in mere weeks, and she'll be left mourning a woman who while loved her, was bound to another and wouldn't breach her vows to act on upon the love she felt. While this is difficult…it is truly for the best."

He shifted in his portrait as he peered lovingly at his wife, "Is it really?"

Her tears blurred her vision, "I have to believe so," she said between gasps.

"Ohh my love, nothing is worth you feeling so utterly despondent."

Her eyes crinkled as the corners of her lips lifted, "Nor you love."

"Minerva…"

"Don't Albus," she stood, stretching her back as she did while wiping the tears away, "it's over. I did what I had to do, and in a very short time, it shan't matter."

"You and I both know that isn't true."

The light flickered off the tears shinning from her eyes as she nodded, "But she doesn't nor will she." She whispered while reaching over and picking up Aegis' journal, because despite how she felt…she still had to push on.

Her fingers tightened around the leather spine, knowing that she needed to finish reading his notes and hopefully discovering a way to end the mess with Johannes while there was still time.

Because if Helena was right and Hermione along with Rose and Hugo survived, she would do what she could to ensure that Helena's calculations came to pass…

…

Because she couldn't do much else for her.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione felt as if she was walking through molasses with lead adhered to her ankles as she finally stepped around the corner, the teacher's lounge now in view.

Anxiety beat in time with her pulse as she tried to keep her face stoic, but knew she failing as her hands continuously flexed. All too fast she was standing before the door and with a shaky hand, she grasped the bronze handle – hearing it rattle as she did.

_I can do this,_ she repeated to herself as she turned the handle and forced her feet to sluggishly move forward as her ability to process thought all but stopped and sheer habit took over.

She had attended dozens of these meetings; mostly they consisted of easy bantering between Minerva and the other heads of houses; but today the mere notion of being in her presence…

"Ahh, Hermione." Filius' face lit up as he motioned to the chair, "Now that we're all here, we'll begin."

Hermione's cursory curiosity regarding where Minerva was was asked by Marx, "Then Minerva isn't coming?"

Filius didn't miss a heartbeat as he met the Slytherin's steadfast question, "She asked that I pass on her apologies, but something came up and she'll see each of you next week."

Hermione felt her posture ease at Filius' response, inwardly thankful that Minerva had opted not to come to the meeting this evening because she truly didn't know how'd she react, but she felt an equal sense of self-loathing for being thankful that Minerva hadn't come…

* * *

Ooxx

* * *

Harold shook his head, "No, we haven't."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite, though it does pose an interesting theory. Why do you ask?" He poured himself another splash of Merlot.

"It seems as though there may be someone who either leaves our time and reappears 1800 years in the past or the theory I just postulated."

He leaned forward, "1800 years?"

She could feel his curiosity burn through her, "Yes."

His eyes scanned hers, knowing that she spoke the truth, but needing to see it reflected in her eyes too as he breathed out, "That's not possible."

"So I've heard."

His brows furloughed, "Who…" but before he asked his question, "don't answer it, because I'd have to investigate it. And the last thing I want to do is interrogate Minerva at this point as to who she is referencing."

"Why would you have to interrogate her and not me?"

"You're my spouse, anything we discuss is considered privileged. Whereas she…"

"Then rest easy, as I've known about this for decades."

His eyes widened, "And you're just now telling me?"

"It never came up," she breezily stated, "and the only reason it has at this point is because of an inheritance she received from Aegis."

"What did he leave her that would cause you to believe someone time travels 1800 years?"

"We came about our discovery through very different means and our mutual information all but confirms it happens, we just don't know how but we do know it will happen soon."

"Let's assume that everything we discuss is from your findings, shall we?"

Pink lips pursed as her brow arched, "For someone who works so closely with mysteries, you certainly don't like not having as many facts as possible."

"An annoying trait I picked up from you."

A radiant smile broke across her features, "Then our bond has had more positive effects than I had foreseen."

His deep chuckle rumbled between them as he stood and walked to her, his hands landing on either side of her arms as he leaned down, "Oh, I'd say there have been innumerous positive effects."

"Innumerous…hmmm…" she murmured as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips, "but all those aside, you still won't get the name."

"Ohh…I don't know," he shifted, letting his lips trail along her jaw and gently tugging on her ear lobe before his voice tickled her ear, "about that…"

Her eyes fluttered shut as she involuntarily tipped her head, "I do…" she moaned as his mouth once again began nipping at her flesh and she forced her hand to flatten along his chest, and with resolve she didn't feel pushed him back, "enough of that."

His blue eyes twinkled, "Sure?"

Her lips thinned, "Yes you devil, I am."

He leaned closer, hot breath on her skin, "Still sure?"

She didn't hesitate as she pressed her lips firmly against his, mouth easily spreading his lips and teasing his devilish tongue until a moan rumbled from his throat as she pulled back, "Yes…" she rasped, "now let's finish dinner."

"And when's dessert?" he stood up, her right hand threading through his causing him to pause and she stood too.

With aching slowness she lifted her left hand up, fingers grazing across his cheek until they threaded through his hair as she stared into his piercing eyes, "I love you." She softly breathed out, their bond pulsing with love between them. Her eyes portraying the depth of her feelings as his mirrored her own, "So very much."

"And I you," he whispered as he leaned closer; breathe upon her lips when he felt her pull ever so slightly back.

"You still aren't getting that name…" she quipped, eyes dancing with a mixture of love and a hint of mischief.

And it delighted him to no ends to know that he would not only be spending the rest of his life with the woman before him, but the rest of eternity as long as she'd have him. "I know," he said while catching her lower lip with his, gently tugging it to him before he broke off just long enough to breath one more thought aloud as his hands pulled her to him, "but it doesn't mean I won't try…"

Her rich laugh echoed in the small space rippling across their skin before his lips once again captured hers bathing the room in a breathily silence and rustling robes as their dinner lay forgotten in the candlelight.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Malcolm took a deep breath trying to control his anger as he met his wife's cold blue eyes, "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You've already made a judgment, so why should I?"

His jaw flexed, "Because _we _are married."

"Yes, _we are!_" she snapped, "Which means a modicum of trust."

"I do _trust_ you, just not him!"

"What do you think happened, Malcolm? He's confined to a bed in St. Mungos for at least another two weeks if not longer!"

"You've spent every day with him since he's been there!"

"He's my friend."

"And you're ex-lover!"

"When we were but children!"

Malcolm's eyes blazed as his voice dropped a full register, "Then tell me I'm wrong; tell me that you haven't been coddling him in an effort to slip into his bed."

It wasn't her hand that caused the resounding crack to resonate throughout the room, but it's effect was equivalent causing him to drop to his knees from the force of the spell that struck him.

"I was going to be the mother of another one of your bastard children and you talk to me about being unfaithful!" Her voice raised three octaves, "I'm not the one who comes home smelling of other women after having had one too many drinks!"

His eyes bulged as the room became eerily silent; their tabooed topic finally aired shockingly aloud as eyes clashed and the truth suddenly was laid bare between them.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva's back and hip ached with abandon as she tried to adjust her pillows again, but after another handful of minutes, she gave up and threw her covers from her body as she grasped her robe. Her eyes glanced to the clock; she needed to wait at least one more hour before she ingested another pain potion.

_An hour that until last evening would have probably been spent dallying with the heads of house, namely Hermione, well past the meeting indubitably playing a game of chess or merely spending time in the other's company. However, that was not an option for the foreseeable future if ever again. And it did not do well to dwell on it. _

_ Because if she was lucky, perhaps before the end, she and Hermione would at least be on speaking terms again._

"Tily," she called out with a soulful sigh as she slipped her arms through her robe, "if you could bring some tea." She knew that Tily would hear her and bring it accordingly as she tied her robe. She picked up her glasses along with Aegis' journal and moved to her living room, having grasped her walking cane along the way to ease the pressure in her hip.

Tily appeared by the coffee table, tray in hand, and she set it down; eyes flickering over to Minerva immediately noticing the way Minerva limped forward. "Shall I bring a pain potion?"

"In another hour, but if you could bring a hot water bottle," Minerva said as she set the cane beside the chesterfield, "that would be wonderful."

"One or two?"

"If you can spare two," Minerva eased into cushions, a sigh eschewing from her lips as she did.

"I'll be back momentarily." Tily replied and vanished with a slight crack.

Minerva was adjusting the throw pillows along her side and back when Tily returned, and she assisted in placing them for Minerva. "Thank you," Minerva heavily breathed, "very much."

"Is there anything else you need for the time?"

"No," she murmured as she leaned back, feeling her muscles begin to blissfully ease in her lower back.

Tily poured Minerva a cup of tea and with a flick unraveled an afghan over her – golden frames resting upon her face as dexterous fingers flipped the aged pages and emerald eyes scanned the faded text; and she blinked away, leaving her alone.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione reached for her cloak but stopped as her fingers touched the soft cashmere, and she jerked the cloak from the hanger and let it fall to a heap onto the floor before grabbing one of her old cloaks and yanking it from the wardrobe – her mood souring further as she jammed her arm through the sleeve.

"I'm going out," she said while wrapping her scarf around her neck.

"Upon the grounds or…."

Hermione grabbed her gloves, "Out, if something comes up, Marx has agreed to cover the Tower."

"Very well." Godric replied as Hermione finished buttoning her cloak.

"And if the Headmistress asks where I've gone," she paused by his portrait but Godric finished her statement before she had an opportunity.

"She has already retired for the evening, so unless there is an emergency she shan't ask."

Hermione's lips pinched but she remained silent and without any further commentary, left her chambers; hoping to leave some of the memories behind too.

* * *

Oxoxo

* * *

Minerva heard her fireplace activate and frowned, _who'd be coming here at this hour on a Monday evening?_ At once, she set the journal down in conjunction with flipping the afghan off whilst standing. "Hello?" she called out, ignoring the way her hip and back immediately seized up.

"Mother…" Tessa replied as the torches to her office began to glow, "do you," she glanced up to the second floor as her mother came to the railing, "mind if the children come here tonight?"

Minerva desperately wanted to say no, but the look at desperation lacing her daughter's face dispelled any reply save one, "Of course," she immediately replied, "Tessa, what's the matter?"

"It's…Malcolm and I….and…" she cast a worried glance back to the fire, "I'll explain, just…" she glanced up to her mother once more and then without another word, summoned the floo powder and was gone in a flash.

"Elgin, Tily." Minerva called out as she leveled her gaze at her cane and willed it to her, begrudgingly as both elves appeared. "Kat and Cal will be here momentarily along with Tessa much later, if you will make up the beds."

Both elves brows furloughed but neither commented and with a nod, they were gone and she was descending the stairs as the floo fired again and first Kat and then Cal came through in conjunction with yelling from the other end before the network disconnected.

Wide eyes stared back at the fire before they turned to their Nana, Kat's lip trembling as she blinked back the large tears dripping off her cheeks, "Is mother and father going to be okay, Nana?"

Minerva cast a glance to her grandchildren and then the floo, "Yes dears," she replied, "now go upstairs, Elgin and Tily are making your room."

"But aren't you coming Nana?"

Minerva feigned a smile to her grandchildren, "I'll be along momentarily dears." She nodded to the stairs, "Now up you go."

They began climbing the stairs and Minerva transformed her robe and night attire into a set of inner robes; her stomach lurching and she had to reach out to keep her balance, a stream of sweat beading along her forehead as she swallowed the bile down the back of her throat from casting the once simple spell. With an unsteady hand, she grabbed some floo powder and less than three seconds later she was stepping into her daughter's den – barefoot.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Rosmerta set the tumbler down in front of Hermione, "You sure you don't want to talk?"

Hermione took the glass and met Rosmerta's worried gaze, "Just the drink, but I appreciate the offer."

Rosmerta nodded, "Let me know if you need anything else."

Hermione raised the milky glass to her lips, "Another," she said before upending it and in several swallows, set down the empty barware, "if you don't mind."

Rosmerta picked up the glass, "Sure you don't want to talk?"

Brown eyes hardened, "Just the drink." She coolly stated, not in the mood to talk and was thankful that Rosmerta realized her intentions, leaving her blissfully alone.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

The screaming in the living room negated her own howl of pain as a piece of glass punctured her foot; biting her lip she banished the glass from not only her foot but the floor, her anger dampening the pain from both the spell and her wounded appendage.

Shattering glassware and spiteful commentary spawning from the living room dispelled any lasting effects regarding her arrival. Half dozen steps later she was stepping around the wall, dispelling the wayward jinx centimeters from her face. "I'll be by in an hour," both Malcolm and Tessa's wands stopped moving as her voice resonated outward, "if you haven't come to Hogwarts before then."

Malcolm's jaw clenched, "Ya know I have the utmost respect for ya, but you need ta leave an' let Tess an' I sort this."

Minerva didn't remove her gaze from her daughter, "Alright?"

"Did ya not hear what I had ta say?"

Emerald eyes jerked to Malcolm, the anger at what she was witnessing barely lit a candle to the smoldering remains of her heart and the anger at her own situation; and unfortunately for him, this situation was bringing it to the surface. "I heard you," she lifted her wand, fingers glowing from the raw magic pulsing to the surface, "but it would be in your best interests to ensure that _my _daughter arrives unscathed at Hogwarts within the hour. Am I clear?"

Despite everything he knew about her and her waning health, Malcolm quickly found his head nodding, unwilling to test her resolve. "Quite."

At once Minerva lowered her wand, biting back the bile as she turned back to her daughter, and at Tessa's nod she turned and left. Three minutes later she was kneeling on the floor of her office, emptying the contents of her stomach as shaking arms kept her falling into the vomit.

With effort, she pushed herself backward onto her knees as she took a deep breath ignoring the chatter from the gallery. "Tily," she muttered as she took another raspy breath.

"Mistress…" she appeared next to her, immediately noticing the mess, "are you alright?"

"Fine," Minerva murmured, "but I'm afraid I don't have the energy…" emerald eyes glanced to tea and ginger newts recently ingested, "to clean this up."

"Let me take you upstairs, and I'll close the floo…"

Minerva rests her hand upon Tily, "Tessa is coming here, leave the floo open."

"At least let me take you to your rooms," Tily stated feeling the clamminess of Minerva's skin.

"Please, to the children's room." Tily gravely nodded and in a snap, she was kneeling before the children's door. Gripping the doorframe, she took another breath and lifted herself upright; immediately noticing that she still needed to have her foot tended. "Kat, Cal." She said hoping her voice didn't sound labored as she opened the door to see her grandchildren in the middle of building a tent, blankets strewn everywhere.

"Nana!" they both exclaimed jumping up, "We're making a tent!"

"I see," Minerva stated trying not to put any more weight on her foot, "but we need to get ready for bed."

"Nana, please half hour?"

"Half hour and then bed." Minerva instructed, her stomach lurching as she waved her hand to set a timer for the children. "Understand?"

Both children easily acquiesced, "Half hour," the cheerfully stated as they continued tucking the blanket into the mattress.

"I'll have Tily help you get ready for bed," Minerva stated, "and I'll be in shortly after to tuck you in."

"'Kay Nana." They chorused and Minerva closed the door, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes drifting close as she took a haggard breath and tried to blink the tears away.

Tears that she had managed to keep at bay since she left her rooms for breakfast at the

Great Hall.

Tears that almost fell when she saw Hermione come through the teacher's entrance, glamour charm trying to mask her red rimmed and blood shot eyes.

Tears that she held back every moment after she left breakfast to now as her thoughts continually drifted to Hermione.

Tears that desperately needed to be let loose.

But ones…that she couldn't afford right now.

No matter how much she desperately wanted to give into her torment, it had to wait. Like everything else.

And Minerva gasped…mouth opening in anguish as tears silently slipped down the sides of her face…

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George slipped into the booth opposite of Hermione, "Sorry I'm late love."

"It's alright," she slurred, glassy eyes flickering up to see the one person she felt she could possibly speak to about the mess she found herself in. "Want one?"

His eyes flashed to Rosmerta and back, "No, I…" he placed his hand on hers, "How long have you been here?"

"Just…a little bit, an hour or maybe…you know a little more."

George separated her hand from the glass, "And probably one glass more than you need tonight love."

She reached for the tumbler, voice holding a warning, "George…"

"We'll have one back at Hogwarts," he eased back out of the booth, extending his hand to her afterwards, "let's get you home."

She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, but she also didn't want to make a scene. "How about we go to your flat?" she redirected as she joined him. She could see the question flash in his eyes, but he merely nodded as she slipped on her cloak and threw several galleons on the table to cover her bill.

"Ready?" he questioned holding out his arm.

"Yeah," she mumbled as she leaned against him.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Tessa frowned at the blood trail in her living room, eyes flashing to the grate and she felt her heart skip a beat. "The children…" she breathed and without thought, she waved her hand – the floo powder jumping from the container and into the fire as she called out her destination. "Headmistress of Hogwarts."

Two steps later she was stepping out into her mother's office, eyes frantically searching the floor and then up the stairs.

It took all of her willpower _not_ to yell up to her mother's quarters to ensure that both of her children were alright. That nothing had happened to them despite having had them leave their home. But as she grasped the brass handling, taking two steps at a time, she rationalized her fear – barely. Because regardless of her partially irrational fear and her oft strained relations with her mother; there was one thing that she was absolutely certain of – even more certain than the whole of Britain's belief regarding Hogwarts being a bedrock of children's magical studies and that was of her mother's fierce protection of her grandchildren and though loathe to admit it, and never aloud, her children too.

She crested the stairs, heart hammering against her ribs, eyes wide as she took in the living room and saw it to be empty. At once, she crossed the floor and with patience she didn't feel, she slowly eased the door open to where she knew her children were. Her worries instantly dissipating at seeing her two children curled up, under the covers, soft snores resonating in the silent room, their angelic faces taking some of the pain from the heated words traded between her and Malcolm.

"You are both so beautiful." She whispered as she lovingly gazed at her slumbering children.

She watched their tranquil faces, listened to their steady breathing and let the last of her anxiety and worries fade away; as they were both fine and utterly safe, as she knew they'd be with her mother.

Sighing, she quietly stepped from their room and felt her back moderately straighten as she prepared herself to wage the impending debate with her mother. Not only did she have to impart the reason why she had asked for her help, but also the outcome. And it wasn't as if she could wait until tomorrow, as much as she'd enjoy seeing mother rip Malcolm apart, it wasn't fair to either – especially Malcolm.

A smile pulled at her face as she debated herself, because perhaps it _was_ fair. Incredibly fair after all that he had done to her.

Her thoughts were waylaid though as she stepped around back of the chesterfield and saw that she had been mistaken, and the living room was definitely not uninhabited as her mother lay unconscious on the cushions.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George felt Hermione waver as he opened the door, "Woah…" he said, making sure his hand remained around her waist, "stay with me."

"Hmmm…I'm…here." She answered, and pushed the door open as the locking mechanism released. "Rory here?" she asked already shedding her scarf whilst stumbling forward, brown eyes casting about the space for the noted Highlander.

"No," George replied while closing the door, "he's at his house."

"Too bad." She leaned against the back of the chesterfield to brace herself as she pulled off her cloak, right arm not releasing from the coat. "Damn cloak." She muttered, yanking on the fabric as she tried to free herself and felt a measure of satisfaction as it finally slid off.

"I thought you had a double breasted cloak with a magical seam, did something happen to it?" he inquired as he hung his own cloak up noticing her darkening features.

"It's from her." Hermione replied as her eyes sought out the dark cherry cabinet, "Mind?" she nodded toward her destination – another glass of something. Anything at this point.

George met her at the cabinet, resting his hands atop hers. "What happened, love?"

The tears she had been drinking away this evening were already pressing against the back of her eyes by his heartfelt concern, "I…she…she…doesn't love me…" Hermione managed to gasp out before the tears choked the last of her words away.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hastily, she stepped and kneeled beside her mother's ashen features, "Mother…" she whispered, hand curling around the cool skin and before she could feel the steady thrum of her mother's pulse, she was greeted by fluttering green eyes.

"…T…essa?" Minerva felt awful as she roused herself to consciousness, the concern in her chest easing at seeing her daughter's features slowly come into focus.

"I'm here." Tessa answered as Minerva's hand shakily extended outward until the tips brushed across her cheek.

"I'm glad." Minerva rasped, "I had the bedroom prepared for you."

And Tessa felt her heart give out at her mother's soft proclamation, as it was readily apparent how unwell her mother was and still…she cared more about her, and her children… "Let's get you to bed first, hmmm?" She leaned forward, wrapping her hand around her mother's back.

"I'm fine," but Minerva knew she wasn't, and from the mixed emotions swirling in her daughter's eyes, she did too. And so, with great effort, Minerva swallowed her pride as she sat up with her daughter's help.

"You are not fine," Tessa remarked as she repositioned herself to help her mother stand, "you look as though Thanatos will be stopping by this evening."

"It was a late night last evening, and a rather busy day." Minerva carefully replied while accepting her daughter's help as she eased off the cushions, feeling her foot throb as she did. "Damn."

"What's wrong?" Tessa glanced down and saw the dried blood on her mother's toes, and realization sparked at who had left a blood trail across her den. "Your foot."

"I seemed to have cut it, earlier this evening." Minerva dryly remarked as she reached out and grasped her walking stick that Tily must have set by her earlier.

"Let me look at it," Tessa began as she stepped aside so she could kneel and see how badly her mother's foot was injured.

"I'll clean it up when I lay down, but thank you for the offer."

Tessa felt her brows knit together, "Then why didn't you do so upon your return?"

"I'm going to retire for the evening." She ran her hand up her daughter's arm, a warm smile lighting her face as she did, effectively sidestepping the whole of the previous conversation, "Get some rest, I'll have Elgin close the floo."

"He won't come here." Tessa assured her still too stunned that little more was going to be said or discussed regarding Malcolm this evening. Let alone how quickly her mother was dropping her own health.

Green eyes sparkled, "I still would rather be safe."

Tessa nodded, "Thank you." Her eyes sweeping over her mother's drawn countenance and she couldn't stop the question even if she tried, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Minerva squeezed her daughter's arm once before letting her hand fall back to her side, "You are, my dear. Now get some sleep, I'm sure the children will be up early."

"Undoubtedly." She answered as she watched her mother slowly cross the living room to her own room, and the worry she had felt for her children flared at seeing her mother look so…so…vulnerable. And it scared her to her bones. Gone was the vivacious icon she had known her whole life, and what was left was the shell of the icon wrapped in the worn body of a woman. It wasn't until she heard the click of the door latch that she realized that she hadn't moved, and she didn't know what scared her more – that she was witnessing the deconstruction of the icon, Minerva McGonagall. Or that said icon was her mother, and that it was no longer a postulated theory of if but a certain theory of when she'd die.

And from the ashen color of her mother's features, she feared it would be far sooner than the end of the term year.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: It's going to get many things...easier not being one of them. As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	105. Chapter 100 February 9th, 2010

**Chapter 100 ~ February 9****th****, 2010 (Tuesday)**

Minerva re-read the report from Elgin, rather one distinct area for a third time before finally glancing up to see a look of chagrin across his face. "And I'm just now finding out about this?"

He nodded, because what else was there to say? That she had told him to give Hermione some space and only report to her if it pertained to Hogwarts. And while, that is what she had told him – he didn't believe now would be a relevant time to express that.

Minerva felt her lips pinch, "Can I be assured that nothing occurred in the Tower last evening?"

"If something would have, Tily would have woken you. She remained up till this morning to ensure the children would be safe, additionally, Professor Granger asked Professor Hesch to watch tower in her absence."

"Do you know where she went?" He opened his mouth to respond but she answered for him, "Never mind, as I'm certain that Hermione would not have told you."

"Nor Godric, Mistress."

"And she has yet to return?"

"No."

Minerva crumpled up the report, "I'm sure she'll return prior to breakfast," she said more to herself than to Elgin, pausing as her gaze fluttered over the snow covered grounds, thoughts upon the chestnut haired woman and where she had sought solace from, "please inform me when she does."

"Of course." And he swallowed, wishing he had watched the Tower last evening. "And regarding Madame Tessa and the children?"

Minerva didn't pull her gaze from the frosty window, "Have they awoken?"

"No."

Minerva finally moved her gaze to the clock noting that it wasn't quite 6am, and while she had been up for almost two hours preparing for the day, it did not mean the rest of the wizarding world was. "I will be having guests for breakfast, and prior to, I'll speak with Tessa to determine how long they will be joining us."

"Very well." And without another word, he vanished leaving her momentarily alone. A heavy sigh eschewed from her lips as she worriedly let her eyes travel back to the large rod-iron gates and her thoughts returned not to her temporary visitor but to the woman who had slipped away from the stone walls and her life at her own behest.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione hit the offending vibration from her arm, "Go away…" she mumbled into her pillow.

"Up," George repeated as she shook her shoulder for the fourth time. "I even have some coffee made along with a potion or two."

"Go….away…" Hermione repeated as she burrowed further into the warmth.

George sighed, "Fine." He stepped back and with a wave of his wand a deluge of water swamped Hermione's body; and she came up spluttering, hair plastered to her face, eyes rapidly blinking open, water spraying from her lips. "Here," he handed the two potions to Hermione. "Drink these and get a shower so we can talk. There is a fresh set of robes waiting for you." He watched as she downed first one and then the second bottle before standing.

"There is something not quite right with you," she breathed feeling her head already beginning to clear.

"Perhaps that is why we are such good friends," he replied and then he felt her hands on his arm, their bodies swinging and he was falling backwards, she atop him as they landed back on the sodden blankets – her body erupting into laughter as they stopped.

"Morning…" she said sitting up again as she brushed her wet hair from her eyes.

He lifted his arm, water dripping from his fingertips, "And here I was going to make you breakfast before you return to Hogwarts." He watched as the moment of merriment lighting her eyes dissipated at the mere mention of the fabled school, and at least knew where the 'her' she had muttered about last night was located. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I need to," Hermione said lying back down, ignoring the wet sheets and blankets, "but I really don't want to."

"Do you want me to get Harry?"

At once Hermione sat up and turned to George, a look of terror lacing her features, "No. Definitely not."

A sense of dread swelled in the pit of his stomach at her odd reaction, "This doesn't have to do with Ginny does it?"

Hermione blinked. "Huh?"

"You and the woman who doesn't love you, it doesn't have to do with Ginny does it?"

Hermione outright chuckled, "Definitely not."

"Ohh thank Merlin," he breathed, "I love you to pieces, but even that may have been more than I could have handled."

"It has nothing to do with Ginny," she laid back down, patting his arm as she did, "I promise."

"Then who?" He asked, and after several seconds of silence, he turned his head to see a look of trepidation upon her face. "It won't matter, Hermione, I promise. Even if you were to say Minerva McGonagall…" at the mention of the Headmistress' name and the hefty swallow in conjunction with the tearful blink, George felt his breath hitch as he realized he had inadvertently stated the very person who Hermione was referring too.

"That's…the problem…" she said between the ghostly tears, "as it is…Minerva."

George easily connected the dots, arms reaching over and pulling her to him, "The night at her party, when you left – it wasn't because of Charlie rather Mc…" George found himself forcing the rest of her name from his lips, and it felt _really_ odd. "Minerva."

Hermione recalled the evening, and more importantly, the events that had led to her rapid departure from the Manor. Minerva had danced so effortlessly in Rory's arms, it had been almost sinful to watch, and she had momentarily wished to have been in Rory's place, "Yes. She was so beautiful that night…"

George let out a sigh, "Merlin, the way she and Rory danced…" he could feel his body responding to the image and memory of the events from later that evening.

"I'm sure you would rather have been in her place…"

He shifted, turning on his side, "I was," tearful eyes turned to questioningly gaze at him, "later of course." He finished with a light blush and a hint of a smile.

"Did you Tango?"

"Not with the same flair, but we _did_ Tango."

"I thought…" she let her body collapse back onto her back, "she loved me, George." She whispered, "What had I been thinking?"

"You must have had reason to believe that."

A strange chortle left her lips, "There in is the problem. I _thought_ she did, and I was wrong."

He gently laid his hand on her shoulder, "Perhaps you weren't wrong." Hard brown eyes flickered to his, and he pushed on, "Maybe she does love you, but doesn't feel comfortable saying it." His tone exceedingly gentle, "She could be like me."

Hermione's face morphed into one of doubt, "Her brother was gay, as is Rory. I highly doubt that she would have a problem expressing her feelings to another woman if she had them. And it wouldn't matter any way…because she wouldn't have them." She felt confined and went to push past George but he grasped onto her waist holding her above him.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter because she wouldn't have them anyway? She's human Hermione, even though she had married Dumbledore before doesn't mean she couldn't feel something for you."

"It does," she painfully responded, "in this instance."

"I don't see how. That would be like me saying that you don't care for her because you were married to Ron."

"Married, yes. Bound no."

Blue eyes blinked at her word combination, "Bound? As in magically bound to another?"

"As in magically bound to Albus Dumbledore."

His fingers fell from her waist but she didn't move, "She…should be dead." His mind recalling the vague facts he knew regarding being bound to another. "Unless…" his heart sped up, "is Dumbledore still alive?"

Hermione shook her head before laying it on his shoulder, "No," she muttered into cotton of his shirt, "he's dead. And before you ask, that is what is killing her. Somehow Hogwarts stifled the bond and that is why she is still alive."

"But they remain bound," George breathed beginning to see why Hermione stated what she had. "Hence, she…doesn't love you."

Hermione burrowed deeper into George's shoulder, "Nope."

"There has to be more than that." He ran his hand down her wet clothes.

"Loads more…" she murmured, "but how can any of it matter?"

"It does to me." He reassured, "So why don't you tell me how you became smitten with the Headmistress of Hogwarts?"

"I'm not smitten." She grumbled in reply, "And don't call her that."

"What?"

"The Headmistress…" Hermione turned her head so her words were no longer muffled, "I have to work with her, so please…don't call her that."

"She is, love."

Hermione sighed, "I know, but…" her fingers toyed with a bit of fabric from his shirt, as she found the strength to utter the words aloud, "the woman I fell in love with isn't the Headmistress, George. Her name is Minerva."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No," Tessa breathed, "I don't believe we'll be reconciling."

Minerva managed to keep her countenance from falling, barely as her thoughts plummeted. _Could the next several weeks become any harder, _she inwardly mused while reaching out and placing her hand atop Tessa's. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Tessa turned her hand over, gently squeezing her mother's fingers, "I'm not."

"Tessa…"

"He was sleeping with other women, mother." Tessa stated without preamble as she watched her mother's eyes darken in anger, "I should have listened to you twenty years ago and left him after his first affair. I thought he had changed, and he had for a few years, but of late, it has become so…blatant, I just…I can't live with it anymore."

Minerva absorbed her daughter's words before replying, "Do you need a place to stay while you and Malcolm work out the logistics?"

Tessa let her mother's hand go with a wayward chuckle, "Yes, but don't worry, I won't ask you."

"You may use the Ridge while you sort your affairs."

"Where will you go when you have a moment's respite from Hogwarts?" Tessa shook her head, "As you and I both know you won't come to the Ridge often while I'm there."

"Of course I'll come," Minerva replied, "but if I want some privacy I'll go to the Manor."

Tessa stared at her mother for several long moments, "Are you certain? Because for the short term, I could ask Percival and Audrey if we could stay with them for a week or two."

"Nonsense," Minerva said with ease, "and the last thing Audrey needs is you underfoot."

"Mother!" Tessa began to admonish but Minerva overrode her.

"Don't mother me, Tessa. Staying at Percival's is the last thing Audrey needs at this point in her pregnancy, because I highly doubt that the conversations will remain civil for the next two weeks." Tessa opened her mouth to rebuke her mother's assessment, but there were no words at her command, because while she didn't like – her mother was right. And she hated it when she was.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"I don't think there was an exact moment," Hermione finally began, "that caused me to look at her differently. Rather a string of events and moments, add in the late night conversations and…the rare times when I began to see her as merely Minerva."

"So not a student crush that has been simmering for over decade?"

"Ohh…if it were," Hermione's chuckle joined the rumbling one she could feel in George's chest, "I wouldn't feel so…so…"

"Despondent," he gently filled in.

She nodded, "Yes, because I'd be used to feeling that way; along with at least having something to laugh at," she replied, "versus my own foolish actions."

George tipped his head back so he could look at her face, "Foolish?"

"I asked her, Sunday if she loved me."

"I had gathered, but that doesn't make you foolish Hermione." George rebuked, "However, the part I'm still not fully understanding is why you'd feel compelled to ask?"

Hermione swung her body off of George's, "She kissed me Friday."

"What?" He asked for clarification as he joined her. "I mean, when you say kiss was it a peck on the cheek or you know, a kiss."

"A kiss," Hermione breathed as she reached, mimicking the way Minerva's hand had traced her jaw less than a week ago, "we were standing in her office, and her fingers trailed my skin like this…and then she leaned in…" Hermione brought her lips close enough to feel George's exhale, "and we kissed."

A thunderous crack signifying an apparition caused both George and Hermione to pull apart as George withdrew his wand, and inwardly cursed his brother's deplorable timing as Percy ducked his head in the spare room to see a sodden Hermione, blushed features on both their faces, his own disheveled appearance, and if the situation wasn't suddenly so serious, it might have been funny.

"Hermione?"

"I thought I told you _not_ to stop by," George snapped.

Blue eyes darted from George to Hermione and back, "Right, at least now you can drop the mystery act."

Hermione instantly saw where this was going, and she felt her skin flush in anger, "It is not as it looks Percy, so leave it."

"Is that what you keep telling yourselv…." The rest of his sentence became mute as he was stunned by Hermione.

"No," she replied while coming to stand by her previous brother in-law, "and I will only tell you this once, so you'd better listen." Her voice dropping three octaves, "George is merely a good friend, _nothing_ and I do mean _nothing _more; he like me, is in love with someone else." She ended the stunning charm, fingers latching onto his upper arm to keep him from falling, "I had one too many drinks last night, and George brought me here. Now," she let go of his arm and turned to George, "I'm going to go ahead and take you up on your offer regarding the shower," and despite the situation, she felt a smile pull at her lips at seeing the still sodden bed linens, "not that your attempt wasn't worth merit, but soap is rather helpful."

George nodded and both he and his brother watched Hermione leave the room, "Don't." George warned as soon as they were alone and Percy opened his mouth, "Just let it drop."

"Alright," Percy finally consented, "but you have to admit, it looked…awfully intimate."

Red brow arched, "Perc…"

"Fine." He held his hands up, "I came down here to see if you were here, because…" he reached into his cloak, "this was left for you on the door."

George took the sealed parchment, slit the seal, and with deft fingers opened the letter and feigned a smile. "Looks as though we are invited to a stag party, it seems as though Lee is finally getting married."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Harold set the papers in front of his wife, "Did you even want to talk to me about it?"

Helena felt her shoulder's sink at what Harold had set before her, "I was merely updating it."

"I noticed," Harold replied as he stopped before the carafe of coffee and poured himself some more.

"Tell me you haven't thought about it," Helena said pushing her chair from the table, leaving the document rest there.

"I have," he said pushing away from the counter and sighed, "it's just…"

A tremor underlying them both at the finality, and what it would mean. "I know." She softly agreed, "But we need to start preparing."

"I've already begun to put some measures in place at the Ministry…"

"As have I at St. Mungos." Helena whispered in a heavy reply as his hand came up her back, "Perhaps we should talk about this next week."

"No," Harold leaned over kissing the top of her head, "let's get it over with. Just let me call Gawain and have him relay to Duncan that I'll be late coming in."

She squeezed his hand before he slipped from the room and she let her gaze fall back to the stack of paper lying atop the morning edition of the Daily Prophet; it's letters easily readable even from this distance – Last Will & Testament.

It's bold proclamation signifying that the end of the beginning had finally arrived – and after eighty-seven years, it scared the hell out of her…and even more terrifyingly, it scared Harold too.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva ran her biscuit lightly over her plate before lifting the last bite to her mouth, trying not to glance down to the still very empty chair that Hermione normally sat in. But at feeling the silencing spell wash over her, she turned to her Deputy, brow arched as he peered at her with his golden gaze.

"Do you need me to alter my class schedule to cover Hermione's classes today?"

"No, if she doesn't show up, then I fear we'll have far more to worry about than her classes; of which for the short-term, I'll teach and then this evening I shall need to call upon your assistance to ensure that she is indeed…well."

He laid his hand upon her forearm, eyes full of sympathy as he read her worry, "I'm sure she is."

"As am I." Minerva agreed and with a tight smile bid good morning, "I shall keep you posted," she breathed and at her nod, she felt him dispel the silence spell and she wished everyone else a good morning before sliding her chair from the table.

With feigned ease, she left the Great Hall, her hip and back already making themselves known as she strode forward and as she let her gaze move down the interminable hall; she sighed and inwardly called for Elgin. She just _didn't_ have it in her to walk to the Transfiguration classroom, no matter how much she wanted to.

Elgin appeared, a question easily discernible upon his features, "Mistress?"

"If you can take me to my office, and then in a few minutes to the Transfiguration classroom?"

Elgin merely nodded, his heart becoming heavy as he did.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione finished fastening her last button on her cloak before stepping into the frigid air, and with a moment of concentration, she appeared outside of the fabled gates of Hogwarts. She let her gaze sweep over the formidable castle, eyes instantly settling on the Head of Hogwarts Tower.

She couldn't help but wonder what Minerva had planned for the day or if she had gotten some rest since having seen her on Sunday evening. While she had of course noticed her yesterday morning, she also knew that the woman sitting in the Great Hall had undoubtedly cast several glamour charms upon her person covering any outward signs of her lack of sleep.

And while she was still hurt and exceedingly angry at Minerva, she couldn't help but worry about the elder witch.

Sighing at her own tumultuous thoughts, Hermione pulled the iron gate open, and began the long walk back to the castle – her thoughts oscillating from what new and exciting events the students would conjure to Minerva to her time at George's and when she'd be able to see him alone. It wasn't as though she was going to talk about it if someone else was present…

_What am I going to do?_ She thought as she yanked open the great oak doors, eyes casting down the hallway and hearing the majority of the students still in the Great Hall. Without thought she moved down the corridor to her classroom, thankful that she had taken George up on her offer to have breakfast there as she wasn't ready to face Minerva yet.

_Perhaps later, _she mused while unbuttoning her cloak and reaching for the door to have it suddenly open from the inside and she inadvertently stumbled backward, reaching out…hand latching onto an arm…

_An arm?_ She inwardly questioned as her eyes jerked to the doorway and landed on the one person whom she had wanted to avoid.

But obviously hadn't.

"Are you alright?" Minerva softly questioned as she felt Hermione catch her balance and lift her hand from her arm.

And Hermione felt the hurt and anger instantly flood to the surface, in conjunction with her yet again making a fool of herself before the very person she had previously wished to impress, "Fine," Hermione all but snapped, "is there something I can help you with, Headmistress?"

Her cool, distant albeit professional response struck a deep nerve with Minerva and she almost physically recoiled back but managed to find her footing as she felt her back straighten and features become schooled as she slipped behind the mask she so oft wore – that of the Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Merely ensuring that you would be available for your classes today Professor Granger."

When she had tried to put some professional distance between them, she had known that Minerva would respond in kind – but…the wall she now found herself on the opposite side of…the utter lack of emotion, not even a hint of anything ebbing from her normally vivacious eyes as her contralto clipped onward without an ounce of inflection. "Good day, Professor."

And Hermione felt the Headmistress sweep past her, walls and all, as the gentile click of her boots and walking stick echoed along the stone. And Hermione didn't move from the doorway, finding a strange mix of comfort and anger at the familiar sound until the bell sounded and the thunderous horde of students began descending upon the castle and the woman's footsteps were lost.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"No," Rory snapped, "it's naugh and ya should leave it alone."

"Leave it alone!" George yelled back, "I've never seen her so…so…lost, Rory! She wasn't this downhearted when she and Ron separated. And I am absolutely certain that she wouldn't have asked McG if she loved her without reason! Jesus, they kissed already! So there must be something and McG is just being…well selfish!"

"She is many things, George, selfish is nah one of the'm." Rory's lilt becoming more pronounced, "And while I kn'ow this is hard, yah havtah let this be."

George unabashedly stared at his lover, "Have to let this be." He finally managed, voice rumbling in anger, "_I _have to let this be? One of my best friends is heartbroken, and _I _have to let this be!"

"Do ya think my best friend is any less heartbroken?!" Rory roared back. "Do ya?"

"She's fucking bound to Dumbledore, so no, you daft fool I don't! I think she's been using Hermione and now that it's come down to it, she has finally told her the truth! And what a truth…after she KISSED her! Or did you not hear that part!"

Rory opened his mouth to refute George's dreadful comments, but at the last moment – stopped as he heard her soft voice and recalled a tendril of their conversation. He'd keep his promise, damn him to hell…and the world while they were at it…

"What! No pithy remarks or defense against the truth!" George continued on and Rory felt his jaw clench even tighter.

"Ya do nah kno'w what you're saying luv." Rory finally ground out.

"As if you do! She used Hermione…"

And Rory summoned his cloak, unable to hear anymore.

"Where are you going?"

Rory paused at the door, "I've known Minerva almost me whole life, George. And while ya think so littl' of her, I know there is mor' ta the story."

"Then tell me what's really going on so I can help Hermione."

"I'm afraid the only one who cannea help her is Minerva, and she'll take the truth with her ta the grave."

"And what, you can't help her because…what…your promise is worth more than Hermione's happiness?"

"Nah luv," Rory turned and gazed at George, "and that is why I keep it."

"That doesn't make sense!" George yelled as he strode towards the door and blistering cold air, "What do you mean that's why you keep it? Rory?!" Keen blue eyes scanned the countryside and at seeing only blackness he grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it closed.

"Dammit to hell." He snapped in frustration.

The day had started off bad and was ending far worse.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione unfastened her outer robe and laid it on the back of her chair before sitting on the chesterfield, it had been an incredibly long day.

And tomorrow was shaping up to be just as long, and she felt her shoulders sink.

_How am I to get through it?_ she thought as her eyes drifted over to the flickering flames, and sighed as the flames' light danced over the book's cover.

_The book that would undoubtedly give her additional insight into Minerva's life and more information regarding the nature of bonding; but she just couldn't. _

_As much as a part of her wanted to read it, she just…_her sigh sounded heavy into her own ears, _because she couldn't. _

And at that thought, her gaze snapped up to Godric's portrait and she felt her anger increase…and she stood up, "Why the hell didn't you tell me she was bound?" Godric's portrait remained steadfast as she stormed forward, "I mean, at any point Godric you could have said something. A damn hint..." she flung her arms upwards, "anything of relevance."

"Minerva's personal life along with the Headship is out of bounds, Hermione as you well know."

"You're telling me that you can't divulge anything regarding Minerva? So, when you and Rowena told me of the Headship's room of requirement that was what? A slip? A moment of fun for you and the other founders?"

"While people knew that she was bound to Albus, no one knew that their bond survived his death; including the Harrisons, Hermione."

"You're telling me that she didn't even tell Helena?"

Godric debated answering her, and he felt torn between his duty to Minerva and the something more he had witnessed blossoming between two of the most brilliant women he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. "No," he finally answered, "she did not."

"I don't believe it. They have been best friends since childhood."

"They were, but she didn't know how to relay that she remained bound to Albus even though she survived his death. Helena had been shocked but overjoyed that her dearest friend had survived the impossible. So what was she to say?"

"So she didn't say anything." Hermione breathed in response.

"No, she didn't." Godric affirmed, "Not to her dearest friend, nor her children, or any others."

"She never told anyone."

"Not until a few months ago." Godric shifted in his portrait, "I don't think she told Helena at that point, rather she learned of it after the incident involving Mr. Potter and your previous husband."

"The night she stretched her magical core." Hermione recalled the tri-color aura that had been emitted from the room, "Helena knew her magical signature and at seeing the three colors…surmised that she was still bound to Albus."

"Along with being bound to Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes flashed in surprise, "Bound to Hogwarts?"

"She and Albus bound themselves to Hogwarts years prior to fortify the warding structure…"

"That's…" her eyes widened in realization, "what's keeping her alive. The bond to Hogwarts…somehow that's how she is alive, isn't it?"

Godric nodded, "Yes. Although for any further information regarding her bond, Hogwarts or Albus, you will have to speak with her."

"Fair enough, but…did she or has she ever told Rory or…oh my God…Tessa or Percival that she is still bound to Albus?"

"Last answer on the topic, Hermione. Rory I believe so, as for the children, no. They don't know. And before you continue, no, no one else knows save perhaps Filius and not because she told him; but because his keen intellect and closeness to her that he was able to deduce it. So, while you have every right to be upset Hermione for a multitude of reasons, know that she did tell you, when she hasn't even told her children."

"And you think that…her telling me makes up for what precisely?"

"Nothing," he softly replied, tipping his head as his eyes peered into hers as he finished, "Merely that she trusts you, Hermione. Immensely."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione flipped her blanket back, "Trusts me…" she muttered. "Damn lot of good that does." She yanked the sheet down, "Because of the two, that's what I wanted…right? Her trust…"

Hermione stared at the bed and frowned, she wasn't close to being tired.

How could she?

Her thoughts had once again turned to Minerva. _Not that they had ever left her_, a stray thought stated.

And she laid down with a huff, mind churning through the difference between the trust she had with Minerva…and the love she wanted.

Xoxo

Bonnie was surprised to see green eyes focus on her when she arrived beside Minerva's bedside, "Tessa and the children are settled in at the Ridge."

"Thank you," Minerva cleared her throat, "and I hope that their temporary residence at the Ridge isn't putting too much strain on you or the rest of the elves."

"We will be fine, Minerva." Bonnie assured her, "I presume that you'll be going to the Manor versus the Ridge when seeking a moment's solitude."

A hint of a smile pulled at Minerva's lips as her eyes dropped back to Aegis' scrawl, "You'd be correct, will that be problematic?"

"Not at all, and probably better for all involved." Bonnie paused until Minerva's eyes flickered up to hers for a moment more, "Elves included." She watched as the tiniest spark flashed in her irises before they were once again muted and her eyes returned to their reading, "And will the Order meeting be at the Ridge or the Manor this coming Saturday?"

"The Manor," Minerva answered automatically, "and ask Helena and Harold, along with the rest of the family if they'll be up for dinner that evening."

"Of course. A tenderloin with scallops, asparagus, salad, crème brûlée?"

"That'll be fine," Minerva didn't glance up from the text.

Bonnie shifted on her feet, "And would you like to invite Filius, Pomona along with Hermione?" The instant Hermione's name was mentioned, Bonnie watched a flurry of emotion spiral through emerald eyes – beginning with surprise and ending on what she would only describe as palpable sadness.

"I'll ask Filius and Pomona," Minerva quietly replied before her voice cracked at her next words, "I doubt…" she pushed through causing her normally clear cadence to become raspy, "Hermione would attend."

"Then you do not wish to ask her?"

"As much as I would like to," Minerva let the journal fall into her lap as she finally lifted her gaze, "it is probably for the best if I don't."

"Are you certain?" Bonnie took a partial step forward, "She may very well wish to come."

A rueful chuckle slipped past thin lips, "That would imply that we were once again speaking."

Large opalescent eyes gazed upward, "Make peace with her, Minerva. I beseech you, tell her that you do love her or at the very least that you care for her. It breaks my heart to see you as you are."

Tears sparkled in reflection against Minerva's glasses as she swallowed heavily before answering, "While this is difficult, Bonnie; do remember that I _am_ dying and shall be dead before the spring equinox."

"And how is what you're doing making it any easier for yourself?" She waited a singular heartbeat before adding one last question, "Or Hermione?"

"Easier, no." Minerva brokenly whispered, "But God forgive me, I need to. As I am still bound to Albus, and plan on remaining bound to him once we have passed the veil." The tears began splashing down her cheeks, her heart aching as the truth tumbled from her lips. "Because while I love her, Bonnie, I just…can't…" the tears came harder making her brogue thicker, "tell her. I can't..."

"And what would be so horrid if you did?"

Minerva's voice barely reached Bonnie's ears as she replied, "That she'd say yes," emerald eyes pierced golden ones, "and I'd still have to keep the distance between us, because I refuse to desecrate my vows or bond with Albus." She brushed some of the tears from her face, before softly finishing in Gaelic, "No matter how much I wish too."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: I know this is going to get harder, but do be brave and muddle through. _


	106. Chapter 101 February 10, 2010

**Chapter 101 ~ February 10****th****, 2010 (Wednesday)**

"Morning twilight. A starlit sky. To have you. To hold you. To love you. Forever. Bound." Hermione breathed aloud as she stared at the scribbled translation, her heart stopping at the final two words.

Forever.

Bound.

"Forever." She whispered to herself as her head shook recalling the book regarding bonding and how it was believed that when two magical persons became bound it forever tied not only their magic but their souls together as well.

It felt like yesterday that she had held Dumbledore's morphed wedding band and she had read the inscription. An inscription that Milksy stated was beneath a portrait of both Minerva and her husband; and when she had asked if it had been beneath the one delineating their wedding, Milksy had replied it was of them later.

_There were so many signs_, she thought setting the piece of parchment down. "So many," she murmured aloud as her eyes settled on this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. She didn't bother opening it up, not wanting to read about what was going on with Ron and Fresca or perhaps Lavender or even Katie; that was the last thing she could deal with this morning. Because she was certain there would be speculation about what he had planned on doing for Valentine's Day and with whom; and she was certain that there would be a small paragraph regarding her and if she was spending the day with a special someone.

And while she desperately wanted too, it was not meant to be.

Because the person she wanted to be with was bound – forever.

There would be no momentary happiness or bliss, because Minerva _was _bound. Minerva couldn't love her…no matter how much she wished it to be so, and she had thought there was something more between them…but, it was impossible. Being bound made it impossible.

Disgusted with her own foolishness, she reached over and grabbed the paper, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it into the fire where it bounced against a log, the corner instantly beginning to burn and then in a blink the rest of the parchment caught fire in a flash of red.

It was perhaps hours or perchance mere minutes later when she heard a gentle cough and she found herself pulling her blurry gaze from the flickering flames to see the kind gentle eyes of a very familiar house elf. One whom she was truly surprised to see this morning, "Bonnie…" she cleared her throat and wiped the tears away, "I ahhh…" she pushed herself back a bit, "good morning."

"It is many things this morning Lady Hermione, good seems a bit of a stretch though." Bonnie replied, "I came to see if you wished to have a lesson this morning."

Before Hermione could process her thought, a hollow response fell from her lips. "No, no…I don't think so."

Bonnie managed not to flinch at the overwhelming emotion that swept over brown eyes, but only barely. She reached out lying her hand upon Hermione's, "If you change your mind in the future, please let Milksy know."

Hermione's eyes widened at Bonnie's statement, "I'm sorry, it isn't that I don't wish you to continue, but I just…"

Bonnie squeezed her fingers, "I know and you needn't say anything more, however, I hope…" she continued on tenderly before Hermione could begin again, "that you realize that just as before, not everything is as it seems."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione edged closer to her as she peered at Bonnie, concerned. "Bonnie?" Her eyes scanned Bonnie's features and felt her heart skip a beat at the undulated worry buried beneath golden orbs, "Bonnie?"

"Don't mind me Hermione, just an old elf's musings." Bonnie forced a smile, patting Hermione's arm before withdrawing her hand, "Do take care of yourself."

Hermione's hand darted out grasping Bonnie's, "What is it?"

Bonnie opened her mouth to say that Minerva loved her. That they were both hurting. That there was so little time left. But she couldn't, no matter how much she wished too. "I bid you good day."

And before Hermione could utter another word, Bonnie vanished and she was once again grasping at air.

* * *

oxox

* * *

George rolled over and felt the beginning of his smile dissipate at feeling that the bed had remained empty. Rory had not returned since he had left yesterday, and he had sent no note, no word…nothing.

"Son of a bitch," George snapped as he whipped the covers from himself and slid off the mattress and stood, begrudging the man who wasn't here along with the way his body wished that he was.

His thoughts easily reverting back to their argument yesterday, and his mood soured even more. Hermione was hurting, and he had the audacity to believe that Minerva was as heartbroken as Hermione. Impossible, as she was bound.

Granted, it was an exceedingly old fashioned notion; one he had not heard many partaking in for the last several generations as the risk hardly seemed worth the reward. But, he knew the fundamentals as well as every other pure blood. Because, pure bloods used to bond with other pure bloods as part of their marriage rituals until about four hundred years ago when the rivals began targeting the weaker of the married couple thereby killing both.

To bind oneself to another for the rest of one's life sounded romantic but the allure to him instantly dissipated at the notion that he'd die when his partner would.

_His partner…_George paused as he opened the loo's door. _He couldn't fathom losing Rory, but to link himself to Rory…forever? McG was one of the most brilliant witches in modern history, and Dumbledore as brilliant if not more so, so why did they bond? What was he missing? And why in Merlin's name did Rory believe McG hadn't been selfish regarding Hermione?_

His eyes stared at his owns reflection, and he felt a nibbling of doubt at his comment regarding McG regarding her selfishness. Because in all his time, McG had been many things, however, she had never…ever been selfish.

Ever.

"So what did Rory mean?" he asked himself, "And what the hell is he protecting regarding McG?"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva heard the door open, and without glancing towards the entry way, she knew that Hermione had arrived. She was instantly filled with conflicting emotions, as she was thankful that Hermione was eating in the Great Hall, but a part of her wanted to spare herself the heartache at seeing Hermione here.

But as Hermione drifted closer, she felt her lungs expand slightly more as the delectable scent of almond, honey, oatmeal and chalk flitted across her senses. The scent was not only heavenly but sorely missed.

Her fingers tightened along the fork's stem, as she willed her gaze to remain upon Filius despite wanting to assuage her own needs and momentarily glance towards Hermione and see for herself that she was in fact joining the table. That she was alright. That the glamour that had been hastily cast yesterday wasn't needed today.

But she didn't.

She couldn't.

And so, lunch continued slowly onward. She keeping in conversation with Filius and Pomona, and it wasn't until she excused herself and stood that she finally let her gaze sweep down the table eyes momentarily settling on Hermione. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat, causing an imperceptible hitch to Minerva's normally flawless exit as she saw the glamour masking redden eyes and sunken features.

It wasn't until she was opening the door to the hall, that she finally permitted herself to release the breath that had hitched upon seeing how dismally Hermione was doing; because it came out as she expected, in a silent sob that she covered with her hand as a tear fell from her lashes.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Filius cast a glance at the clock, the door's distinct whine delineating another person's entry and without looking to the door, he knew it to be Marx. He normally spent his free period here on Wednesday's grading few papers in between kibitzing with Aurora.

Ignoring the way the other man moved between the chairs, refocusing on the agenda for the coming head of house meeting.

"Good afternoon, Filius." Marx stated as he drew to a stop beside the Deputy, "How has your day been?"

"Well," he lifted his quill up as his gaze rose too, "and yours?"

"Other than Miss Meaur adding an extra two grams of dried dragon's liver, rather well."

Filius couldn't place what the dreadful ingredient was for, "Did everything turned out alright for Miss Meaur?"

"She'll be scrubbing her cauldron for a week to get the potion removed, but otherwise no harm done." Marx's red hued eyes glanced up to Aurora, "Actually while you are both here, I'd like to inquire if you've heard of anything that may have happened to Hermione. She seems a bit out of sorts the past few days."

Filius felt as if Hagrid was suddenly sitting on his chest as he desperately tried to keep his face stoic while not appearing as though he was suffocating, thankfully Aurora's voice flittered across the room and enabling him a few more precious seconds to collect his thoughts on the suddenly poor landscape laid before him.

"Her mood turned a hundred and eighty degrees since Sunday evening; she is hardly talking when she does attend the meals. I have been leery to ask if something happened to her father, but obviously something has changed since then."

At this Filius was certain that something had happened Sunday evening, involving more than one occupant at Hogwarts. Though, thankfully, their interactions with Minerva were far less; and she far too experienced at hiding her emotions. But the fact _did_ remain, something _had_ happened; and while he was not privy to the exact details, he had long since deduced what the nature of the problem was – love. And it bode ill for both Hermione and Minerva. "I am unaware of any complications regarding Hermione's father." He honestly stated, feeling his stomach plummet as the seconds achingly ebbed by.

"Perhaps when you speak to Minerva, she'll be able to shed some light upon the cause of Hermione's shifting mood."

"I shall ask," Filius obscurely cleared his throat, "though I do not know if Hermione will have told her."

Aurora's face creased, "Assuredly she'll have told Minerva, as they have become rather close these past several months."

At this Marx's worry morphed into a semblance of a smile, "That is true, our colleague has somehow managed to befriend Minerva and she will help her past the trouble that is weighing upon Hermione."

Filius felt himself nod in conjunction with Aurora, but unlike her acknowledgement, his was hollow. For how could Minerva help with what he surmised ultimately was the doom that had finally befallen Hermione – the truth had been laid bare between them; shattering her belief and hope of attaining Minerva's love. A love that had been spoken and held for eternity, forever beyond her grasping reach but she had reached nonetheless and fallen harder and swifter than Albus had from the parapet.

And the effect was crushingly similar.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Michael paused as he reread the paragraph, disbelievingly. _It was impossible for a person's magical core to vacillate._ He glanced up, eyes instantly landing upon Helena, his mouth opening in question; but the words halted upon his lips at seeing her standing by the window and staring into London's skyline.

He had noticed an alteration in her mood over the past week; at times becoming distant. Initially he believed it stemmed from the stress of the past two months and she had finally had some time to process what had happened now that her workload was back under control.

But now he was certain something else had grasped her attention; undividedly. And it worried him.

She was still there; was still handling the crisis and managing St. Mungos, but her mannerisms, along with her directions had shifted ever so much. It was as though she was slowly setting cogs into the wheel, preparing for a time when the hospital would be running without her expertise.

At first, he thought his observations were borderline preposterous; but there had been too many unusual instances. Having Clarence begin shadowing on the crisis ward or Nancy transferring to Reginald's division; asking Jayne to look at taking a vacation over the last week of February as she was taking off from the eighteenth through the end of the month; and while not unusual for her to take off – she had never in her tenure as the Administrator taken more than seven days off.

Helena's voice rasped across the stillness, though her body remained unmoving. "Typically when reading, it does require one to actually look at the words."

Michael marveled at her uncanny awareness, but wisely chose not to comment. "I was processing."

"Hmmm…" she softly replied, "and what could you possibly be processing by staring at my back?"

"How a person's magical core could fluctuate." With great care, he pushed his chair back and stood upright, "It's impossible. Once a person reaches maturity, their core becomes locked and every bit of research ever released, including de-classified papers from the Department of Mysteries, solidifies that hypotheses."

"Except for those who are bound." Helena quietly rebuked, "Harold's and my cores oscillate from 10.3 to 10.8 depending on emotion, fatigue, and how much magic has already been expended."

"But if your core has a range, along with Harold's, how in Merlin have you managed to keep it quiet. You are the head of St. Mungos, he of the Department of Mysteries, and neither of you have published or mentioned any information to the contrary."

"It hasn't been until the last decade that we were able to detect that our bond caused our magical core to vacillate." She finally turned to face Michael who was standing barely two meters from her.

His face easily portrayed his question, "Why not publish any new research?"

"Because there are only two couples who we were able to study," she let her gaze drift back to the skyline, "our research is still ongoing."

"You don't have enough to generate a baseline."

"No."

"But I thought…" he involuntarily took a partial step closer, "you knew several persons who were bound."

"There are twenty-seven couples across the whole of England, Scotland, and Ireland who are bound. It is not something that has been conducive for the last century in increasing ones longevity if word gets out that you've become bound."

"Aren't any of the other couples willing to partake in a study?"

"If it hadn't been for Minerva's accident, Harold nor I would have even known that being bound has an effect on one's magical core."

"You didn't answer my question."

Slowly Helena turned back around, "No, I didn't."

Michael flinched at the emotion pouring from Helena's azure eyes, "You haven't approached many of the couples."

"No," Helena cleared her throat, "and we won't. Those have chosen to be bound greatly value their privacy, because without it, they'd have been killed."

"Then whom else partook in the study besides you and Harold?"

Several seconds passed by in aching slowness, neither witch or wizard moving, until finally Helena began to move back to the window; a hollowness overtaking her voice as she murmured a response, "Minerva."

He gaped at her, disbelieving. There was no way that Minerva could be involved in the study because she'd have to be bound; and if she was bound….who was she bound to? "Minerva? As in Minerva McGonagall?"

"The one and the same."

Michael frowned as the words fell from his lips, "I thought her husband died."

"He did."

"But…that…there's…what you are saying is…there has never been any recorded…" he paused in his nonsensical thought process trying to congeal a coherent sentence, "are you sure her husband is dead?"

"His body is entombed in white marble at Hogwarts."

"The only person buried upon the grounds is Albus…." The rest of his sentence trailed off as he stared dumbfounded at Helena.

Her eyes flickered upwards to glance at his reflection in the glass, "Yes and yes, Michael. Her husband did in fact die thirteen almost fourteen years ago from the killing curse, and she, much to my surprise and her own, she is in fact alive."

"…..impossible." He finally managed to state despite lacking higher brain function.

"I assure you, I am telling you the truth. And after I return from my vacation I'll let you read her file which will detail out her condition, the cause and subsequent treatment for the past decade."

"Past…decade." He reiterated as he mentally processed what he knew, "She isn't well, is she?"

"No," Helena heavily breathed in response as she willed her own plight and situation along with Minerva's pending demise as a subsidiary problem that would have to wait until later to muse upon, "she hasn't been for some time."

"Is there anything you can do for her?"

"I'm afraid it is beyond my skill," Helena admitted while turning back to her ashen faced protégé, "and I did not tell you to engage in a debate or dialogue on the subject. Rather to express that the information you are reading is verified, but it remains unknown and shall continue too."

"If you wanted it to remain unknown, then why tell me?"

"The same reason I have been informing you regarding the more specialized cases throughout England, I am training you to eventually replace me."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Klive cantered to a halt by Tenien, "We stopped two wizards along the southern boundary, we've brought them here."

At once Tenien leapt forward and within minutes he was standing before the partially bludgeoned men. "Where is the man you call Harkiss?"

"I thought…" a crooked, bloody smile split his face, "you could determine that centaur by reading your stars."

"Very well," Tenien turned to the other man, "and you?"

"You are nothing but fodder."

Tenien stepped back and turned to Klive, "Bind and gag them and have Yven and Orion stand guard. Do not take your eyes off them. Where are their wands?"

"Here." Klive handed over the two small wooden devices.

"You've done well keeping them alive."

"Why do you want them alive?"

Tenien glanced back at the men, before tipping his head away and towards Klive. "I am sending word to Minerva to see if she can use wizard's magic to help get what we need."

Klive's brow arched, "Venus has fallen too and no longer able to help our cause. If they will not help us, they need to be killed; to keep them and wait on a human is foolish."

Tenien's hand gripped Klive's arm halting him from moving away, "Your youth is showing Klive, for the stars are clouded and to read them as such is foolish as well as naïve."

Klive's voice dropped as he leaned closer, "You may be an elder Tenien, but there will come a day when you shan't be. For the stars foretold another's fall in time with Venus' demise."

"If you believe yourself capable of having my post, challenge me otherwise, learn your place and the stars." Tenien rebuked before moving away.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

In some ways, it had felt as though no time had truly passed, in other ways it had felt as though the day had gone and dinner had already arrived. And Minerva didn't know which aspect of the dichotomy her life was becoming that she liked better. The denial or the acceptance that seemed to have taken residence in every aspect of her world; from her pending death, the situation with Albus and her bond, her feelings for Hermione, the limbo of her affairs regarding Johannes, Filius, the lack of concrete information left by Aegis, Tessa's current plight…however, her litany was waylaid as a dove sailed into the hall causing several heads to turn as it landed before her.

Carefully she untied the natural vine and with a morsel of food; the dove flew off, leaving behind a bewildered staff gazing upon her as she uncoiled the fine parchment.

"Minerva?" Filius questioned as she read the note, concern lacing his voice.

She began to move her chair backwards, "It seems I forgot a meeting with an old friend."

Filius placed his hand on her forearm as Pomona placed one on her opposite leg, both husband and wife knowing that she _never _forgot a meeting. "Are you sure it can't be rescheduled?"

"I shan't be long," Minerva replied as her voice dropped proportionally, "and I'll send word with Rowena upon my return."

"Be safe." He replied while removing his hand, and Pomona hers.

Minerva gave a nod, and with apparent ease she stood and began walking from the Great Hall. She no sooner strode through the doorway and almost stepped into Hermione as she called for Elgin.

"My apologies, professor." Minerva stated as she took a partial step back as Elgin appeared beside her.

He cast a glance to Minerva and then Hermione, "Mistress?"

"To my rooms, please."

Elgin frowned, "You just arrived…"

"And now I have need to be elsewhere," she clarified to her house elf before lifting her gaze to Hermione again, "do enjoy your .evening." And with a nod to Elgin she vanished to her rooms leaving a bewildered Hermione in her wake wondering where Minerva had to be and if elsewhere meant somewhere other than where she was.

And so after several minutes, Hermione still found herself pausing outside the professor's entrance, hand heavily resting on the handle as her mind churned on where Minerva was going.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Minerva tiredly leaned against the tree, the cold, crisp air cutting against her skin as she stared at the scarlet snow mixed with strewn bodies of the two wizards and a centaur. "Did you find anything other than their wands?"

"No," Tenien stated as he followed her gaze, "I'd have sent word sooner, but it happened less than an hour's time ago."

"I needed to stretch my legs," Minerva remarked, "besides it has been a great many months since I have been here and it is long overdue." She shifted against the bark, "How are the younglings?"

"I have not been to your property in some time, but word is they are doing well."

"And yourself?" Minerva sincerely inquired noticing the added stress lines highlighted by shafts of moonlight.

"The past few months have been trying." Tenien's voice dropped, "Something I'm sure you are akin too."

"Yes," Minerva softly agreed, "that I am."

"And have you found a way to separate yourself from Dumbledore?"

Minerva laid her hand gently upon his, "We bound ourselves to each other decades ago, my friend, and there is no way it can be dissolved unless we are on the same plane of existence. And as he is dead, the only way we can dissolve our union is when I die."

"As you've said, but the stars do not lie Minerva."

"Nor does the death that is seeping into my bones and stealing me away Tenien."

"You may rest upon the cusp, and I do hear what you say. But, Minerva, you must also hear me as well," He leaned closer, warm breath tingling against her cold face, "for I have read the stars since I was a youngling and am as adept at my calling as you are at yours. You are Venus of this I am confident and equally as certain that Venus shan't pass into the shadow realm and join Jupiter beyond the veil."

"I shall be dead prior to the spring equinox, my magic and that of my husband's is ripping me apart. There is no cure, no reprieve, my friend; only death. And while I do trust in your abilities, perhaps another is taking my place as Venus and that is what you have seen in the heavens."

His eyes glinted in the moonlight, "You are many things Minerva, to many people and creatures alike. Kind, fair, thoughtful all in the guise of a powerful witch whose beauty while oft hidden is beyond compare; it'll be a sad day when you do fall from the heavens, but the Venus I have seen return from the brink is you, Minerva. As there is no other who can or will rise in your stead for many moons to come."

"I do not see how what you say is possible, as I will die."

"There are many facets to death, Minerva; just as there are to life. Somehow Jupiter's pull will cease and Titan's will enable you to rise once more. So, perhaps a more pertinent question is whom do you believe Titan to be?"

Her lips pursed at his question, "Titan? It is you, not I, who believe that our lives mirror the stars. I have no notion as to who Titan is, or how it would be possible for me to live past the spring equinox."

"Titan…" he tipped his head, eyes portraying his wonder and curiosity, "you do know who it is."

Minerva's face blanched at his comment, "Who are you referring too?" Her mind churned through possible persons, "Rory?"

A deep chuckle erupted from his chest, "A stout wizard, but he cannot replace Albus nor would he ever try."

"Replace Albus…" Minerva echoed as her thoughts spiraled ahead.

"Titan has enough force of will and character to replace that which has left," the brief levity that had momentarily laced his voice vanished as he softly finished his sentence, "it is you who first introduced her to me."

_Her?_ "Helena?" Minerva breathed, trying to recall when she had introduced Helena to Tenien.

His brows furloughed, "Helena?" He repeated, "I do not believe we are speaking about the same person."

"Then who are you referring to?"

"Hermione is becoming Titan."

Minerva unabashedly stared as she tried to force her lungs to breath as her mind processed the unbelievable. Hermione was Titan. Titan was Hermione. Titan was replacing Jupiter…was replacing Albus. Hermione was replacing…Albus. And Minerva felt her legs begin to falter as her hand involuntarily tightened along the bark to keep her upright, "…Her…mione…" her cadence as thick as molasses as she forced the words from her throat, "you must be wrong." He _had _to be wrong.

"I thought so too," Tenien stated, "but in the time since I have met her at the Huckbar to now, I have become certain."

Minerva stared wide-eyed at Tenien, her disbelief at his statement clearly evident upon her angular features in the moonlight. "No…" she finally managed to breath, unwilling and unable to believe him, no matter how badly her heart wished it to be true.

"Titan is rising Minerva, there is no doubt, and its pull is already affecting you; and will continue to." His eyes warming and portraying a rare gentleness, "From the pallor of your skin and your reaction, you already know this but I doubt you have accepted it." He gently laid his hand upon her shoulder, "Whether you accept it or not, know that Jupiter has fallen and the last vestiges of his influence is disintegrating and will be gone by the spring equinox. Because you are correct in that there will be great change in the coming weeks. Jupiter's fall, Titan's rise, Mar's pulsing anger, my brethren will rebel joining the Griffins and several other magical creatures, and you…you…will begin to rise again."

With tearful eyes, she laid her much smaller hand atop his, "Believe what you may my friend, but my fate is sealed. The spring equinox will come and go, and I wish you many more seasons of prosperity, but it is my children or grandchildren who will rise at my passing and help to stymie the looming chaos that is threatening to swallow our world."

"A child of yours already has and will again, but for now, our fate rests with Titan's rise and your return."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tessa frowned at her father's portrait, "What do you mean, she's not at the castle?"

Albus inwardly pulled on their bond, summoning his wife. "She left at the onset of dinner."

Tessa's face morphed into a partial scowl, "Undoubtedly with Hermione on some foolish errand she believes is necessary regarding Johannes. I swear that woman is going to get mother killed…"

"She is not with Hermione," Albus interjected, "what is it you'd like relayed to Minerva?"

Tessa grabbed her scarf from the air, "I'll find her and tell her myself," she replied in a sharp tone, while slipping on her coat. "Headmistress of Hogwarts." She clipped as she threw some floo powder on the fire and stepped into the green flames, and out into her mother's office. "Elgin." She called out as her father and the other headmasters and headmistress of Hogwarts stared down at her.

Within a scant few seconds, he appeared and kept his displeasure at seeing his mistress' daughter standing in her office from his face because it would help no one. And while the Mistress needed a reprieve, it was apparent that when she returned, she would not be getting it this evening either. "Madame Tessa, what can I assist you with?"

"Where did my mother go?"

With considerable effort, Elgin kept his gaze from flickering to his Master's portrait as he replied, "She departed about an hour and a half ago."

"Father's portrait already stated as such," her lips drew into a thin line, "my question wasn't when rather where she was. I need a message to get to her, rather urgently."

"I'd be happy to relay it to her when she returns," Elgin stated as Dily's portrait dissolved in the background.

"For once, no." Tessa stated in frustration, "I want to tell mother, not have you or the blasted portraits relay a message to her, but for you to find her for me or tell me where she is, so I can go and speak with her."

Elgin's face became nondescript, "I do not know where she went."

Tessa spun around to the gallery of portraits, "And I'm sure the lot of you don't know where she went either, correct?" An eerily silence reigned down from the portraits until Tessa's jaw was rippling in anger. "Fine," she snapped as she turned to Elgin, "take me to Hermione's rooms."

"I do not believe Professor Granger is aware of the Mistress' whereabouts…" Elgin began but was cut off but stormy green eyes and a biting voice.

"Someone here does, and if you'd prefer I question the person who does, then by all means start with them; but in lieu of you telling me, I'll start with the one person whom I know has been involved with my mother's comings and goings since the start of this term year. Now take me to _her _rooms."

Elgin snapped his fingers as Albus' voice interjected, "No, Elgin." But it was too late, they were already gone. "Dammit. TILY!" Albus bellowed and tried to patiently wait as the mere seconds ticked by as their bond pulsed again in worry. Tily appeared, and before she could ask, words were already stumbling from his mouth, "Minerva is coming back from the forest, please go to her."

"Do you know where?"

"She was near the eastern ridgeline visiting the centaurs but left over twenty minutes ago."

"It may take several minutes, but I'll return shortly."

"Do hurry," Albus stated as Godric's body partially re-solidified and their gazes met, Tily vanishing in the background. "And?"

"Hermione was within her rooms."

Dily's reappeared, "Audrey is at St. Mungos, she's gone into labor, but there is a problem. Helena didn't know anymore as she just learned of it and is heading to St. Mungos."

Rowena's visage had already become transparent as she went to relay to Filius the news regarding Audrey; Albus turned to his colleagues, "Please inform Minerva what is transpiring, I'm going to our son's home to see if I can learn anything more."

* * *

oxox

* * *

The loud crack startled Hermione from her own reverie, but not nearly as much as seeing Elgin standing with Tessa's ashen expression turned upon her. "Elgin…Tessa is Minerva alright?" she asked standing, her heart having plummeted to her toes as she fought for a breath.

Tessa felt her ire toward the woman moderately decrease at her apparent concern regarding her mother's welfare, but as instantly as it waned, her anger returned tenfold; because this upstart of a witch who didn't know a damn thing about old magic was responsible for hastening her mother's demise. "No thanks to you, because if you were truly helping mother; you'd be with her now. However, since you're not, then you must know where she is."

Hermione felt as if she'd just been struck in the gut with a stinging jinx as she stared at Tessa in disbelief; first at her brazenness and second at her cutting remark, and third because she felt awful for not having known where Minerva _had_ gone, or even that she had gone somewhere. Seconds passed as she tried to form the words, admitting that she didn't know where Minerva had gone, and that despite their own falling out of sorts, she still should have been a friend and accompanied her, because Minerva was many things - unwell being one of them.

Tessa took Hermione's lack of response as an attempt to dodge her mother's whereabouts and took a step closer, "Where did mother go?"

Brown eyes finally blinked back to the present as the truth quietly passed her lips, "I don't know."

Tessa's eyes narrowed, "Bullshit."

And Hermione felt her face flush in both anger and embarrassment as she snapped a painfully truthful retort, "We had a discord this past weekend, and I haven't spoken to her since then. I don't know where she went, or even that she left. I saw her leaving when I arrived at dinner almost two hours ago."

"Bloody good friend you are," Tessa snidely remarked. "Rather a friend of convenience, probably a use them and lose them sort."

As much as Hermione wanted to rebuke the statement and state that Tessa's remark was more in line with Minerva's behavior; she held back and met startlingly cold green eyes that she knew mirrored Minerva's color but had thankfully never held the same frigidness as the ones staring at her now. "It's late; I'd suggest looking elsewhere. As she is not here, nor do I know her whereabouts; perhaps Filius or Rory do."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

A cacophony of voices descended upon Minerva as she and Tily appeared in her office, and with a heavy sigh she lifted her head. "I cannea hear you if you continue speaking at once."

The portraits voices halted to a low rumble as they actually saw the tired countenance of their Headmistress. It was painfully obvious that the meeting in the forest did not go well by the dried tear streaks on her cheeks or how her eyes were slightly swollen, the ashen color of her face…and as ready as they had been to inform her of what was transpiring, now not one wished to be the bearer of the news; and the rumblings died away into an unearthly quiet.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," emerald eyes went to her husband's portrait and then to Severus, "what was so dire that Tily was sent to find me? Is something amiss with one of the students?"

"No, Minerva." Severus suddenly found himself wishing to be anywhere else, "Rather Audrey."

The gallery watched as her pale skin became three shades lighter, "Audrey…" her eyes instantly jerked off of Severus and lifted up to Dilys, her words barely reaching Dilys' ears, "is she at St. Mungos?"

"She is," Dilys answered as Minerva was already heading to the floo container, "Helena arrived mere minutes ago and I haven't any more information."

"Minerva…" Godric's voice rung outward as her hand sunk into the floo powder, causing her gaze to flicker upwards a bit more in response, "Tessa arrived looking for you."

Minerva withdrew her hand, "I shall see her at St. Mungos." She replied as she snapped her wrist.

"She isn't there!" Godric exclaimed, his body fully solidifying into his portrait within her office.

Minerva stopped mid-step at the anxious look upon Godric's face as her mind tried to process past the emergency and understand what he was trying to impart. "Then has she gone to inform Rory?"

"She was intent to find you and relay news of import, and when we were unwilling to inform her; she set out to find someone who would know where you were."

"Have Filius…"

"She directed Elgin to take her Hermione's rooms, Minerva." Severus softly interjected, causing her eyes to drop in an instant to his and then in the next heartbeat back to Godric's face…her worry for Audrey becoming blanketed out as she now understood the meaning behind Godric's expression.

"Tily, take me to Hermione's rooms." She breathed, almost afraid of what she'd find as she reached outward to take tiny fingers; her gaze remaining locked upon Godric as his portrait phased as Tily's apparition resonated throughout her.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"I should have figured that you wouldn't know," Tessa began to walk back towards Elgin, "and it's probably for the better that you aren't involved with mother's affairs anymore, as your ineptness has already cost her more than you can possibly know."

"My ineptness?" Hermione snapped, her anger overriding the last of her control. "You don't have a fucking clue what is going on regarding Minerva, do you?

"As if you do." Tessa practically spit as she met challenging brown eyes. "You're what, thirty and a professor with only superficial knowledge as to what mother or the family has gone through or given up." She edged closer as her voice became lower, and more accusatory, "What she's had to give up to train you so you could join her in her foolish escapades thereby shortening what little time she had left."

"And you distortedly believe that if Minerva had you go with her, then what she'd have more time? That her training me is what is killing her?"

"Every time she uses magic, it kills her you daft fool." Brown eyes widened in shock, and Tessa pressed her advantage, "Now, who doesn't know what they are talking about? Because it seems as though you are just one of mother's pawns…"

Hermione's fingers tightened along the vinewood handle of her wand as Tessa's actions mirrored her own…

"Go ahead," Tessa nodded to the wand along Hermione's side, "and try. I'm the daughter of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva…"

"Don't." Hermione interrupted, "You have never once been proud to be _her_ daughter, so don't even pretend to be now."

"Is that it?" Tessa chided, "You want to be her daughter?" She scoffed, "_You?_ As if..."

"I have absolutely no desire to be her daughter." She said lifting her wand, "But I will have her daughter respect her."

"Tessa!" Minerva forced herself forward on her partially immobile hip, "Hermione!"

Both women turned to see the very woman they were speaking about limping forward.

"Put your wands down." She marched towards Tessa, "And what in Merlin's beard do you think you are doing coming into Hogwarts and interrogating my teachers regarding my whereabouts?" Green eyes snapped to Elgin, "Take her to St. Mungos, we have need to be there post haste."

"Mother…"

Minerva's icy voice overrode Tessa's rebuttal, "Now."

Elgin didn't hesitate and was gone before another syllable could be uttered, leaving Minerva and Hermione momentarily alone.

Hermione could see the dried tear tracks, the swollen eyes, the flushed features, and her compassion overrode her anger as she stepped forward, "Are you alright?"

"No," Minerva honestly stated as she turned, meeting Hermione's broken features. "Nor are you." She sighed, "But do try and keep from sparing with Tessa, my dear. I haven't the energy to visit her in the hospital."

Despite herself, Hermione felt a smirk pull across her lips at Minerva's apparent belief in her skills versus Tessa's. "I wouldn't injure her too badly; just enough to ensure that she treated you with respect."

"I fear that would be a full time occupation," Minerva lightly replied, "and I believe your skills are better utilized elsewhere."

"If that's so, then why not ask me to accompany you this evening?" Hermione carefully inquired. "Regardless of…"

Minerva held up her hand, "You know better than to say what you are about to."

"No," Hermione stepped closer, "you don't get off that easy." Minerva opened her mouth to reply but Hermione continued on undeterred. "I am upset, hurt, angry and a compilation of a hundred other emotions, but I need you to know that in spite of everything happening between us; I am still your friend. And that I'll be there…" her voice choked up as she forced the rest of the sentence outward, "for you."

Her whispered words echoed Tenien's mystic divination and Minerva felt her defenses buckle, her eyes dropping away as she reached out and laid her hand atop Hermione's forearm, "Thank you," Minerva quietly breathed as she squeezed her hand along Hermione's arm before pulling her fingers away.

"Minerva…"

Oblique green eyes lifted upwards, as a tired sigh was ushered from thin lips. "Let it be, Hermione. For my sake this evening, please."

Realization sparked in brown eyes as she recalled Minerva's terse words upon her arrival, "Who is in St. Mungos? Do you need me to go with you?"

As much as she wished for Hermione to join her, she knew in her soul that she had to say no and felt even wearier. "Audrey, and no. It would best if you remain at Hogwarts."

Hermione visibly recoiled from the declination, "Alright."

"Tily," Minerva moved closer to the other house elf, her eyes hesitantly moving back to Hermione. "I'm having the family over to the Manor Saturday evening; you and the children are invited."

Hermione remained silent as she stared at Minerva, not knowing how to respond. Because she wanted to shout her affirmation, but stopped just short; as she knew what this was intended – an olive branch of friendship, and she wanted, needed so much more than friendship. Subsequently, despite desperately wanting to say yes, she slowly found herself uttering the word, "No. I'm afraid…" she cleared her throat, "I have other plans." Had she been looking, she would have seen the fleeting heartbroken gaze as it flashed across emerald orbs; but she had been too absorbed with trying to keep her own façade to notice…and then the moment passed and the disappointment and heartbreak was gone as was the woman, the venerable Headmistress had returned.

"Quite, then wish the children well for me. And good evening…Hermione." Minerva nodded to Tily and appeared in Helena's office as a soft gasp ushered from her lips and she gripped the edge of the aged furniture.

"Audrey is on level 2." Dilys quietly stated.

Minerva took in a shaky breath as she tried to steady her hands as new tears washed over those that had only recently dried. "Thank you…" she brokenly replied as she wiped her checks with the back of her gloved hand before tiredly donning Minerva McGonagall's unyielding façade once more, as she numbly exited Helena's office.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Exhausted didn't begin to describe how Minerva felt as she exited the floo, her body practically falling over from the weight of her robes as the lights softly burst to life.

"I'm surprised you didn't stay at St. Mungos." Albus quietly stated as he peered lovingly at his wife.

"They stabilized her an hour ago along with the child and will continue to monitor them both for the next twelve hours and then determine if it is in their best interests to induce or wait."

"And Helena will contact you if she takes a turn for the worse?"

Dilys answered for Minerva, "I will let you both know."

"Please tell Albus if her condition changes and he can wake me." Her eyes flickered back to Albus, "Good night, love." She murmured and slowly walked to the brass staircase as he relayed a mutual declaration while she unfastened her cloak, which she shed before she tiredly gripped the banister and began to force herself to walk up the stairs.

As she crested the stairs, she saw a set of fingers resting over the cushions of the chesterfield and felt her hand involuntarily reach for her wand; her stomach clenching at the mere notion of performing magic. "Hello." She called out as she leveled her wand at the leather furniture. A mass of brown wavy hair sprung into view along with far too familiar features turned towards her.

"Min…erva…" Hermione blinked again, fighting back her fatigue as she tried to force her eyes to focus. "I…" she cleared her throat while running a hand over her face and spun her legs off the couch and stood. "Didn't want to intrude at St. Mungos," Hermione absently ran a hand over what she knew was wildly out of place hair, "but how's Audrey?"

"Stabilized," Minerva replied having already lowered her wand and began unfastening her broach, "she went into premature labor. They stopped it; and they are monitoring both the baby and Audrey for the next twelve hours to determine the best course of action regarding delivery."

"But she is going to be alright?" Hermione quietly asked.

"Yes."

A gentle smile passed across her face, "That's wonderful news." She moved towards the elevator, "Get some rest."

"Hermione," Minerva called out causing the other woman to pause, and she let the weight of the day momentarily ebb away as she basked in Hermione's presence and despite the circumstances she felt a minute smile curl the edge of her lips, "thank you."

Hermione returned the soft smile, eyes sparkling in the faint light as she opened the door, "Good night, Minerva."

"Night, my dear." Minerva murmured in reply as the door closed and for the first time in days she felt immeasurably lighter.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: Life has interfered; family, sickness, a funeral. So while I do apologize for the lack of updates, my personal life and supporting my partner is my first priority; I hope you understand._

_As always, I hope you enjoyed the update. _


	107. Chapter 102 February 11, 2010

**Chapter 102 ~ February 11****th****, 2010 (Thursday)**

Percival gently brushed a lock of hair from his wife's forehead, "You are so beautiful, love."

Tired eyes blinked before slowly turning to him, "Flatterer…"

A roguish grin spread across his lips, "Absolutely," he breathed leaning closer, "can I get you anything?"

She let her head rest against his, sighing as she did, "No. Unless you see Helena, I…think they are going to start without her."

"They won't start without her," he answered as his eyes flickered to the group of healers standing only meters from them and at seeing Michael shake his head no, "besides she'll be here momentarily."

"Then that gives us a few more minutes…"

He pulled slightly away, consternation lacing his features, "Few more minutes, for what?"

"We do need to decide what to call the little bugger," she shifted her head, tired eyes twinkling despite the fatigue, "or do you think we should put it off for a few more hours?"

He leaned in and kissed her full lips before pulling back a centimeter, "How's next week sound?"

"I might just go ahead and call him Wulfric if that's the case."

"I thought you liked Edwin." Percival countered.

"Then Edwin Wulfric…"

"Brian." He interrupted causing her face to sour.

"Wulfric will be his middle name," she breathed in raspy conviction, "as it was my grandfather's name too; so if you don't like Edwin Wulfric, then perhaps…" her hand strayed to her stomach as a light contraction passed, "John." she finished in a whisper.

Michael interrupted the tender moment, "We can't wait any longer," he glanced to Percival, "we need to start."

Percival held onto her hand as he stood upright, eyes remaining fixed upon his wife's, "I'll see you and…" his voice cracked, "the little bugger soon."

"You had better have a name picked out…" her moan of pain sliced through her sentence and his heart.

"I will, love." He kissed her knuckles as the other healers moved closer and one of healers took his elbow and guided him out of the room. Each step feeling as though his heart was breaking, footsteps becoming harder until he felt his mother's lithe form embrace him, and despite knowing how unwell she was, he couldn't help but to sink into her arms and for a moment believe as he had in his youth – that she could right the world's wrongs, and most importantly – she had the ability to make his world, his life and everything he held dear all better.

"It twill be alright," Minerva stated as she held her son, praying it would be.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"I don't believe it," Arthur said as he rinsed out his coffee cup.

"Don't or won't," Molly tartly questioned.

"Don't," Arthur replied as he turned back to his wife, "as they are merely good friends, nothing more."

"And what Percy saw was what precisely?"

"I don't know, but if George said there is nothing going on, after everything, I am going to believe him."

"Even after what the boys said happened the night after the Ministry ball when Hermione stopped by and kissed George?"

"Molly, we both know that everything is not as it seems. And George has been through so much since Fred's death…"

"As if Perc and the rest of the family haven't!"

"It's not the same as losing your twin." Arthur rebuked, "And if Hermione was going to date any of the boys, it certainly wouldn't be George."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Arthur held his supposition and altered his tactics, "Charlie is much closer to Hermione's liking than George."

"Either way, we need to have a word with her Arthur as she destroying our family."

"No love, she has done nothing."

"She married Ron, divorced him and then was seen kissing George, along with Charlie and even Charlie asked her out, now George again…Ron will be devastated."

"Then he should have done more to keep their marriage from falling apart."

"Don't blame him, Arthur! She's as much to blame as he."

"When he thought it more important to go down with the department for a pint versus going home? Or that he hardly watches his own children on the weekends he is supposed to? We end up watching them almost every weekend, and don't Arthur me on that point Molly as you well know the truth of it. You need to stop coddling him, because he has made a mess of things and you can't be the one to clean it up. And that includes his ex-wife and what happened between them. I know you want to blame Hermione, but she tried to make it work. She even gave up her research position while working at the Ministry to devote more time to the children."

"She isn't devoted to her children now, she's too busy gallivanting around England with Minerva."

"And if that was Ron, you'd be shouting accolades from the rooftops at how he was helping to bring Harkiss down."

She slapped the counter top, "She still shouldn't be dating her ex-husband's brothers."

"And they shouldn't be going after her." He calmly replied, "She may have a part in the mess that our family is in, but she most certainly is not the sole person that the blame should rest upon."

"You're right," Molly grudgingly agreed as she ran a hand through her hair, "but that doesn't stop the fact that Ron will learn of this."

"Talk with Perc this evening and we'll see if we can't head it off before it becomes any larger."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Are you sure you're alright, honey?" Pomona asked as she stopped before her husband.

"Hmm…" Golden eyes blinked back to the present, a faint smile pulling on his lips at seeing his wife, "What dear?"

Worry instantly flashed across her features, "Are you alright?"

"Fine…" he unnecessarily cleared his throat as he repeated the hollow word as he tried to convince himself, "fine." At seeing her disbelieving look, he backtracked a smidgen. "Just worried about Audrey."

"While I believe that is a part of it, I know that is not all that has been occupying your thoughts as you have been off since Sunday evening." She sat down opposite of him, laying her weathered hand atop his, "What has happened Filius?"

He felt his shoulder sink, "It seems that life is slowly coming full circle."

She knew better than to say too much, and opted to say nil as his eyes seemed to lose focus and she quietly sat, knowing her husband too well. Knowing that this was his way to process, to enable his emotions time to absorb what his keen logic had long since already sorted out.

"While in the war, I…" he shifted and felt her hand ensconce his, and his burden immediately lessened and the words that seemed so hard to utter became as with most things that involved Pomona, easier. He let his gaze flicker across her face, her lips, her eyes, the rose of her cheeks, "I love you."

Brown eyes easily read his love for her, along with the worry regarding what he was about to share. "And I you, and I shan't go anywhere Filius. Never fear."

"And therein lies what does truly frighten me," Filius quietly uttered, "I was barely eighteen, just having graduated from Hogwarts and after only a month of training was sent to France."

"That's where you became friends with Minerva?"

"Later, but not before she had saved me…."

She ran her fingers along his knuckles, "You've told me as such," she reassured.

He nodded, "I…may have left some details out as to why I was almost killed."

Concern flared in her chest, "Filius?"

"I had been sent with a group of a half dozen Aurors to help free a child who had been captured and was to be taken back to Grindlewald. It was a bloody exchange, and my first foray into wizard's duel without limits. If it hadn't been for Patrick, I'd have died before the first minute passed."

"What happened to Patrick?"

"He died not even five minutes after saving my life. A piece of debris crushed his spine from behind, immobilizing him before turning him to stone and pulverizing him into dust. It was an experience that even to this day is chills the marrow in my bones. I had been wounded and ultimately retreated into a structure as our forces fought theirs. Through my retreat, I found the very child we were sent to find; a boy barely of age and looked to have been beaten by the men holding him. I remember his large blue eyes gazing at me in a mix of hope and fear. I didn't know his name, and never learned it. Because once I opened the cell, he stepped out as a shell from the allied muggle forces detonated against the structure. His hand latched on my arm as the percussion of the blast deafened my ears while both our bodies were flung backwards and for a moment the world ceased. He was a seer. That was why he had been taken and why we were sent to liberate him. Grindlewald had desired his capture and wanted the boy to 'see' his future."

"What did you see?"

"Flashes and words…"

She reached forward with her other hand, "Filius," she breathed, voice a calming balm to his soul, "what did you see?"

"That I would have a life," his thumb ran across her fingers as he struggled to find the words, "and it would be taken as I was transported to a time long past to start the life that has already happened."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't either until over a decade later Helena informed me that I…my DNA is a match for the Wicket lineage."

"Wicket…" her voice trailed away as she tried to recall who the Wicket's were and then from the recesses of her mind she remembered the aged family and her eyes widened, "Filius that is almost two thousand years ago. You can't possibly…are you sure? Is Helena sure? What about me? Us? Lizza?"

His golden eyes became obscured from the tears in his eyes, "I am sure, my love. I was to have another son and either he or I am to go back…"

"Another son?" She whispered, as she let her hand fall from his and her body fell back into her chair as she gazed at him in disbelief. "You had another son?"

"No," Filius edged closer, "I've only had two children, Pomona."

"Then for the prophecy to come true, somehow you have to go back."

He shook his head, "No, I refuse to believe that it will happen."

Thoughtfully her head tipped to the side, "Is that why you've never told me?"

"Pomona, I will not leave you." He stated with steely conviction, "Ever."

"Then why tell me now after all this time?"

"Minerva…inherited the Wicket estate and would like me to assume ownership."

"And you feel that if you do say yes, then you will set things in motion that will somehow cause you to wind up in the distant past?"

"I cannot lose you." He breathed as he floated nearer her.

She reached up tracing his forehead and trailing her hand down his cheek, "The very nature of life dictates that at some point, either you or I shall lose the other. For as life begins as death ends."

"We will not be separated by time."

She leaned forward, an impish smile upon her lips, "I daresay not. As I most certainly haven't had enough _time_ with you."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tessa's back bristled as her husband strode into the waiting room, "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!"

"Ensuring that Audrey is alright." He snapped, "Because unlike your selfish egotistical…"

"Enough." Rory's voice sliced through their discord, "If ya two wish ta bicker then there ar' still treasures at yar home that need to brokin', as we dunna wanna hear it taday."

Malcolm turned to Rory, "Is there any news?"

"No, she's still in surgery." Percival hollowly answered from beside his sister.

"Has no one told Minerva?"

Tessa opened her mouth, but Percival laid a hand upon her leg. "Not today." He whispered, before his crackling voice answered. "She had to meet someone that was coming over from the America's; she's here so if we have news we'll be able to let her know."

"And before you ask," Tessa continued on, "no we don't know who."

"I wonder if it is one of Narcissa's relations."

"I believe," Harold shifted his legs, "it is. Though I can't recall who or the relation, but it someone whom she knows and will be able to answer questions as Helena is otherwise detained."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"The Mistress is not here." Milksy replied, ears partially downtrodden.

Hermione paused in fastening her outer robe, "What do you mean not here?"

"She'se left for the St. Mungos."

Hermione strode out into her living area, "Godric, is Audrey alright?"

"She took a turn at just after three this morning."

Hermione glanced to the clock hanging over her mantle above the crackling fire, "That was almost five hours ago."

Godric immediately noticed her hardening eyes, "It was."

"Is there any news?"

"The family has slowly been assembling," Godric relayed, "as Helena cannot maintain her pressure in order to deliver the child."

Hermione felt torn as she wished to leave and be with Minerva, to support her along with Percival and undoubtedly Rory and Harold who would be there. But, just as quickly as the desire to leave to support them flared, an equal pain enveloped her chest that Minerva had not included her. Had not let her know that Audrey was not well, and she felt tears burn at the back of her eyes at how easily it seemed that she had been cut from Minerva's life.

She let her head momentarily fall as she tried to find some inner balance regarding Minerva and what she should do, as she did not want to be anything less than a friend – as Minerva greatly needed that at this point. "I can do this…" she whispered to herself as she felt her jaw flex while blinking back the tears.

She just needed to let Minerva know that she would be there, a confirmation of what was spoken of last night. And with only the barest hesitancy Hermione moved over to desk and withdrew a sheaf of parchment.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Thank you for meeting me here today." Edmund finally stated as he drew the sheet back over the blackened remains of his father's body.

She squeezed his shoulder, "I'm sorry that it has come to this."

"Was the official report regarding his last several months true?" He questioned slowly turning to her, his eyes level to hers; eyes that were his father's amidst his mother's cheekbones.

"Your father was a _good_ man, Edmund. And he died doing what he believed was right."

"Trying to take down Hogwarts?" He asked aghast as he turned to face her.

"He and I were allied in trying to protect it." Minerva's lilt became richer as she continued, "He helped relay information to me at his own peril, and ultimately Harkiss severely injured his niece leading him to attempt to single handedly stop Harkiss."

Hope flared in blue eyes, "Did he stop him?"

"I don't believe so, but we have not heard from him since your father's passing."

"And no one knows what father was doing, do they?"

"No, they do not."

The hope gave way to resignation, "And they can't, can they?"

"Not until Harkiss has been stopped."

Slowly he nodded, "Did father send you his journals?"

"I have one that he sent me, and am most of the way through it."

"I'm going to the family home this evening and will forward anything that may be relevant."

"You know that he entrusted me with the Wicket home."

A watery smile pulled upon his full lips, "Good, because if not, I would have given it to you. It was his home, and that is what he associated with you. I'm hoping that you'll absorb the library and find a worthy caretaker for the estate."

"Edmund, there is something you need to know." Minerva felt as if her world was closing in on her as she took another breath to brace herself in order to relay what she needed to as she tried not to think of how her daughter-in-law was doing and if she was alive.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"No…" Rose replied, "she isn't a blue cat."

"I don't have none grey lefted," Hugo stated, "so you gots to imagines that its grey."

"Alright," Rose agreed causing Carl to pause beside the slightly ajar doorway, shoulder leaning against the wall to support as he listened to his grandchildren. It was odd that they weren't bickering and even odder still that his eldest grandchild was agreeing with Hugo. "Do you think mom can change too?"

"Nope." Hugo's voice was muffled and Carl easily pictured Hugo replying as he drew something with his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth.

"I think she can." Rose adamantly stated.

"Why hasn't she?" Hugo countered.

There was a long pause and Carl was about to push open the door when Rose's voice finally cut across the air, stopping his movements. "Maybe máthiar will teach her."

"I bets is she would if mum askeded." Hugo immediately answered and then a moment later he followed up his statement with another, "Cuz máthiar likes mum."

"And mum would learn because she likes máthiar." Carl shook his head at his granddaughter's statement, _of course his daughter and Minerva got on with the other, they were friends._ He placed his hand on the door intent to enter when Rose's question stopped him from moving forward any further. "Do you think that mum and dad will move back in together?"

"Hope not." Hugo said without pause, "I don't like the voices they use. It's so loud."

"They aren't happy when the other is there."

Carl sighed, he and Jean had talked about what the kids had heard before the separation and now that he knew, he wished he hadn't overheard. However, his thoughts were once again waylaid as they continued their conversation and it was one that left him truly reeling. "I like mum when máthiar is around."

"Me too," Rose agreed. "She's happier."

"Wunder if they was together if they be like Unc 'arry and Aunt Ginny?"

"No you silly, they wouldn't be like Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny."

"Then who you think they be like?"

"Uhh…"

"Then you don't think they be like no one?"

"I do, Hugo, it's just..." Rose's voice trailed off apparently in thought.

"Justed what?"

"I think they'd be like meema and grandpa or Grandma and Grandpa Weasley; but so much more. Like…like…" her voice became hopeful, "Snow White and Prince Charming."

"Who'se Pince Charming?"

"Mum of course," Rose stated matter a factly, "because máthiar has hair just as black and as pretty as Snow White."

"But mum doesn't have a castle, máthiar does."

"That's alright Hugo," Rose confidently replied, "as the important part is the happily ever after."

"I'd get a castle…" Hugo's voice holding a smile, "and máthiar. That would be da coolest day ever."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva entered the waiting room to see a room full of anxious faces, "I have no news and from your expressions, you do not either."

Rory stood pulling a letter from the inner part of his shirt, "This came while ya w're otherwise engaged."

Minerva took the letter, ignoring how her family watched her every move as green eyes immediately gazed upon the script to discern its origins and felt her heart at first skip a beat and then stop. As it was from Hermione.

"Looked to be an owl from Hogwarts," Harold said helpfully as Minerva withdrew her glasses from her robes.

"I believe so." Minerva replied as she opened her glasses and slipped them on before breaking the letter's seal and turned away from the room to help hide the fact that her hand had a slight tremble to it as her eyes immediately engulfed the words as soon as they became available.

_Minerva,_

_It came to my attention that Audrey took an ill turn during the wee hours of the morning; know that she along with you and your family are in my thoughts. And I meant what I stated last evening, I am here to help so if you have need, please let me know._

_Hermione_

Minerva re-read the note and wanted to hold it to her heart, but the audience behind her caused her to banish the letter and treat it like it was no more than a note from a professor when it was in truth so much more. Much like she had offered an olive branch to Hermione last evening, it seemed Hermione's note was akin to the same thing.

"Everything alright?" Harold's voice neared and Minerva turned around with a genuine smile erupting in her eyes and curling the corner of her lips as she replied.

"Yes," she said eyes meeting his crystalline blue one as she neared and placed her hand on his shoulder patting it, "I believe it will be."

Harold scanned her eyes and held them, realizing that she was talking beyond the reason they were here and before he could ascertain what she was referring he felt a massive easement of worry leave their bond as a ripple of joy rippled up his consciousness and exploded across his chest. A smile breaking across his face and without thought he reached out and hugged Minerva, pulling her close. "She feels…hope." He kissed Minerva's cheek, "Joy." And he turned his head to Percival, "I believe you'd better have that name picked out, Papa."

Percival's face broke into a grin as tears of relief and joy ran unbridled down his cheeks while the rest of the room erupted into smiles and cheers; which was confirmed barely two minutes later as Michael entered the room with a smile as wide as Harold's uttering the most precious words in Percival's life. "Your wife and new son are alive and stable."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione was surprised when Godric arrived in the portrait beside Sir Cadogan at the end of the period before lunch which was across from her classroom. She noticed him as the students bustled from their chairs and escaped into the corridors; she waited until the last student departed and then crossed the expanse to see what he wished to relay.

"Godric, is everything well?"

"It seems a boy recently joined the McDore family lineage."

"McDore?" Cadogan repeated, "I'm unfamiliar with that family. Is that a wizarding family or muggle?"

"And the mother?" Hermione questioned ignoring the knight's questions.

"Tired and she'll be a guest at Helena's for longer than anyone would like, but she will be fine."

Hermione nodded, "That is…" a smile breaking across her face as she imagined Minerva hearing the news, "wonderful. Absolutely…." She could see twinkling green eyes and rosy smiling lips as she proudly held her grandchild, "wonderful."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Albus blinked as the blue light shimmered in the room before slowly taking a humanoid shape in which it merely stood and stared at Minerva for several minutes before finally turning towards him. Curiosity plainly etched on its face as it stepped closer, voice ebbing through the portrait and not aloud.

_'I do not understand you and she.'_

He went to open his mouth but then felt an odd weighted sensation envelope him as the blue hand rested upon his portrait and in the next moment he was standing in a darkened room with Hogwarts.

"Where are we?"

"Away, as I do not wish to wake her."

"Why do you care so much about Minerva?" Albus inquired, voice turning reflective. "It seems as though you have taken a special interest in her over the past few months and I can't help but wonder why?"

"Ahh…" Blue eyes sparkled, "you still care."

"I am aware of my feelings, but am far more curious regarding yours."

"Feelings…" it's voice rippled everywhere as it tipped it's head to the side, "are something you have. It is not something," it held out it's arms and circled it around it's body, "within."

"Then what is the impetus for protecting Minerva?"

It's voice matter a factly replied, "She protects me."

"And why the special interest in her?"

It peered at Albus, "You do not know and yet you are a part of her."

"I don't know what?"

"That which she is, but I do not know how you fit with her as it remains unclear. Hence, why you are here." It motioned around it's body to the void they were standing in, "I am seeking understanding between you and she."

"We are bound."

"Of which I understand that she is tethered to you and she you; but there must be more."

"We love each other."

"Then why does she feel for _her,_" it's face shimmered to that of Hermione's and then back to it's neutral face, "as she does for you?"

"Because I am here and unable to be with her."

"Yet you are with her every moment of every day and _she _is not, and Minerva cares for _her _too."

"What is it that interests you in Minerva?"

It opened it's mouth but stopped and stared at the notable man, opting to alter it's verbiage as it could not chance altering what would come to pass. "Her selflessness, unending compassion and skill have been unparalleled in the last two generations."

"And what part do I not know?"

"That she is one of most prestigious witches to be within these hallowed walls."

"Yes she is," Albus agreed, "and I have been truly blessed to be loved by her." And then in another instant he was back within his portrait in the Headship's office. He went to step through to Minerva's bedroom and found the link blocked. At once he strode up to the Founder's portrait and asked the four of them the same question, "Can any of you access Minerva's room?"

They glanced to one another and Rowena sighed, "Very well," she went to stride through and frowned. "I can't access it." She turned to Helga, "Can you?"

One by one they tried, Salazar the last and upon failing he paused before responding as he tried once more and then turned to Albus. "It is locked out by Hogwarts."

At once he drew their bond to him and felt his apprehension triple at the void greeting him and for a stark moment he processed what it would be like to no longer be bound to Minerva; a future that he would willingly accept for her happiness but one that now scared him in the loneliness that could await him.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Again Hogwarts took shape within Minerva's bedroom, eyes peering over her restless body. It knew the weeks ahead would be arduous and she was already fatigued; and with little effort it pulled upon the bond shared with the woman and let the peacefulness of the grounds exude outward.

Immediately the lines across her face eased and minutes later her body sunk deeper into the mattress as the tension gave way in her muscles as she succumbed to a bottomless sleep.

And despite itself, a heavy sigh was uttered as it processed a dichotomy that it did not yet understand, _'I know you are she, and yet I do not understand how you can be she that once was and is and shall come to be when I feel the very life force ebbing from your body. The question remains is whether Albus is he and if not, who it could possibly be.'_

It's musings were stopped as a small elf the one it believed helped _her_ and at seeing it, the elf stopped and starred. A moment later a second elf appeared, a female and despite the fear blanketing her face she softly spoke.

"Who are you? And why have you come to the Mistresses quarters?"

_'Such fierce devotion,' _it replied eyeing both the elves, _'be at peace as I mean her no harm.'_

"Then why are you here?"

_'To ensure that she rests as she cannot sustain if she does not.'_

Golden eyes measured the blue ethereal being, "You are Hogwarts, and that is why the portraits cannot access the room."

_'I am.'_

"Come Elgin," the elf reached outward, "the Mistress is not in peril."

"Wait Tily," Elgin stepped closer to the being, "Can you'se save her?"

Hogwarts kneeled before them, _'She will die, I can do nothing to stop it.'_

Tily frowned, "Then why save her after Albus' death if she was only to die from their bond years later?"

_'As much as you are compelled to breathe; I felt the same as her life was being torn from me.'_

"And now?"

_'The death that had once been forestalled has taken root and means to have its victory and not be denied again. However, if there is anyone whom has passed through these walls that has the ability to defy death not once, but twice, it is...'_ it nodded towards the bed, _'she.'_

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione almost didn't hear the hesitant knock, at first believing it to be her own imagination at wanting to believe that Minerva would visit with her upon her return. However as the hours grew later, she knew Minerva wouldn't visit as she had started her day far too early. Setting her grading aside, she stood and moved to the door, while asking Godric, "Who is here?"

"Miss Meaur."

Hermione didn't hesitate and waved open the door to see the young Gryffindor standing on the other side, hand still hesitantly raised as if to knock again. "Professor Granger, I...can I speak with you?"

Hermione motioned for the young girl inside, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Blond looks shook in declination, "No I…" she jammed her hand into her pockets, "I know when you were at Hogwarts you and your friends use to have many things happen to you; how did you go to sleep after it all?"

Hermione motioned for her to sit on the settee in her den as she sat in a chair opposite, "When I was at Hogwarts, I don't know. I didn't have nightmares." She said in partial reflection, "Even with everything we faced, I felt…safe."

"How? I mean, you faced a troll; a Basalisk; Slytherins trying to curse you; evil Professors ;to helping Harry Potter defeat Voldemort. Weren't you afraid?"

"Of course," Hermione replied, "I was petrified while living through it, but as for nightmares, they didn't happen until after we left Hogwarts and I was on the run for a year. And now that I think about it," her voice became gentler, "I haven't had any since I've returned."

Samantha pulled her hands against her chest, "I think I understand, but unlike you; Hogwarts fell around me."

Hermione blinked back her own ruminations as to why she had not had nightmares in months, something that had previously plagued her at the very least weekly. "It did, Samantha," she breathed, "but it did not strike you."

"No," Samantha closed her eyes as a tear slipped off her lashes, "but it hurt Nana."

And Hermione understood. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe, but that a person whom she loved had been severely injured. "Do you know why Minerva was hurt?"

"Protecting me."

"No, Samantha." Hermione stated causing reddened eyes to lift and meet her gaze, "She was hurt because she was trying to prevent Hogwarts from becoming injured as she is its Headmistress. And she, not Hogwarts, called the corridor down upon herself."

"But why wasn't I injured?"

"Because, neither she nor Hogwarts would ever," she leaned closer, "ever harm one of the children."

"Even if I wasn't family?"

"Even if you weren't, however, you are Samantha; and never doubt that Minerva wouldn't do everything in her power to save you."

"Is that why," Samantha rubbed the tears away with the back of her robe, "you feel safe here? Because Nana won't let anything happen to us?"

Hermione felt her head nod as the words fell from her lips before she could process what she was saying, "I think, when I was younger, yes; that was the case." She met watery blue eyes with a reflective brown gaze, "But not anymore."

She sniffled while wiping the smeared trail away, "Is that because you don't think Nana can anymore?"

Hermione said as she felt tears press against her eyes too, "She has saved me more times than I can count in this year alone."

"Then why do you feel safe now if not because of Nana?"

"I feel safe now not because she will protect me, but because I can join her in protecting all of you and in protecting her."

"That's why Hogwarts is safe." Samantha replied as if it all made sense and Hermione shook her head, not understanding.

"Why?"

"Grandma Helena always says that all life is circular; and if Hogwarts is here to protect us and Nana is here to protect us, Hogwarts and all that dwell here, it only makes sense that the professors are here to protect her while protecting us and Hogwarts. I think I get it and understand why you felt safe here." She slipped off the edge of the cushions, "Thank you professor."

"If you still aren't sleeping by this weekend, I want you to come and speak with me."

Samantha's head bobbed in affirmation, "I will." She said as she walked beside her professor to the door.

"Now off to bed, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night Professor Granger." Samantha stated as she stepped into the hall, and before the door closed, turned back around and bid her thank you.

Hermione nodded before the door clasped shut and she was staring at Godric's portrait, "I'll see you tomorrow Godric."

"And I you." He rumbled in response, wishing Minerva could have heard Hermione's statement to Samantha. And that she could discover a way to cross the divide enabling both

women to have what their heart desired.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Yes I'm still floating around and no I haven't forgotten you or this story. As always I hope you enjoyed and with luck, I'll see you soon._


	108. Chapter 103 February 13, 2010

**Chapter 103 ~ February 13****th****, 2010 (Saturday)**

Audrey's tired smile grew larger at seeing who her visitor was, "Hermione, what a pleasant surprise." She shifted a bit as she pushed herself fully up.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked as she drew a chair next to Audrey.

"My strength is returning," Audrey replied as the morning's first rays sprinkled across Hermione's features, easily noticing the glamour charms. Charms undoubtedly hiding the fatigue that seemed to be plaguing the whole of the family and everyone else who dared to stand in Johannes' way. "And how are you faring?"

"It's been a long week," Hermione honestly relayed, "but that is not new."

"No, it isn't, however, it doesn't make it any easier; rather harder as the time goes by."

"True as that may be, I was hoping to have an opportunity to meet your son before I start my day."

Audrey smiled, "Then you timed your visit well as they are bringing him in to feed in another handful of minutes."

"What name did you and Percival decide upon?"

Audrey's brows furloughed, "Minerva didn't tell you?"

Hermione kept her face poised as she replied, "I'm afraid our schedules haven't been congruent."

"I believe that is the kindest and most diplomatic way I've heard that a person is having a discord with another."

"I…there is no discord…" Hermione stammered in reply causing Audrey's eyes to crinkle in understanding.

"I've known Minerva for a very long time and you have somehow managed to bypass the hardened exterior she so readily hides behind; it is as if you are impervious to them. I have only known her closest friends to accomplish such, and even then, she rebuffs all but Helena." Audrey's face pulled into a smile at Minerva's longtime friend, "As I don't think Helena would even acknowledge a wall existed as she breezed through it. But when there is strife between she and Helena, it is akin to the look I now see peering from your eyes. However, do take heart Hermione in knowing that they have always found a way past their discord; as I'm assured you shall as well."

"I…" Hermione's expression became solemn, "think that may be true, however, we do not have the same history as she does with Helena."

"Which makes it so much more intriguing as to how you have befriended her."

"We had been casual acquaintances at the end of the war having become somewhat closer over the summer while helping to rebuild Hogwarts. Our friendship deepened when I returned this past fall to teach at Hogwarts and…" her sentence went unfinished as a healer with a baby ensconced within his arms entered.

"Ma'am, I thought you were alone."

Audrey waved him entry, "My friend had a few moments to stop by before the start of her day, Tolly. And while I am aware it isn't normal visiting hours, I can assure you, that she is part of the Administrator's family."

"I wasn't going to put it in my report that she was here," Tolly stated as he handed her child to her, "I'll be back shortly."

"Thank you," Audrey whispered as she fingered her son's lip and adjusted him within her arm, "I have a special person for you to meet John." She lifted him up so he could see Hermione, "This is Hermione. She is a good friend to your grandmother and I'm sure given enough time, I'll be friends with her too as will you." She lifted her eyes up to Hermione's, "Hermione, this is John Wulfric McDore."

John blinked and stared at his visitor for several long seconds before reaching his tiny hand outward and taking his fingers and curling around her one finger and pulled it to his chest.

"He likes you," Audrey said as she glanced up to Hermione who in turn met her gaze.

"I'm sure he has liked everyone he's met so far."

"Perhaps, but other than Percival and I, he has only grasped at one person's hand."

John gurgled and pulled harder on the object in his hand, "Who?" Hermione half-heartedly questioned, "Tessa?"

"Hardly," Audrey quipped, "rather Minerva's."

"That doesn't surprise me; she has a way with children." Hermione let her fingers trail across his waist, "Mine are enthralled with her too."

Audrey felt her breath hitch at the unguarded warmth emanating from Hermione's eyes as she spoke of Minerva and her children. Undoubtedly a warmth that she kept hidden behind the guise of friendship, but Audrey was certain that it ran much, much deeper. The question was how deep did it delve? "She is a special person."

"I'm sure she'd beg to differ," Hermione ran her thumb along the tiny digits, "as she'd say you…" Hermione leaned incrementally closer to the boy, "were the special one."

John giggled and released Hermione's finger as he moved both his arms in jubilance as a smile broke across his face and his giggle grew. The moment was interrupted by a soft beep and Audrey glanced to Hermione who was pulling a trinket from her pocket.

"Have fun at the meeting," Audrey stated over John's mix of giggling and gurgling.

"I'm heartened that you are both doing well," Hermione said and in the next moment she was gone causing John to stop and blink at where the visitor had been; his bottom lip already blubbering as tears came to his eyes.

"You'll see her again," Audrey soothed as she ran a hand over her son's cheek. "Now," she tugged on the blanket and shifted her robe, "where were we before you got to meet the woman you'll like just because she's a pain in Tessa's ass…"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

George felt his breath hitch as Rory appeared in the room only meters from him, it was the first time he had laid eyes on him since the night he left five days ago. Grey eyes glanced to him, and then just as quickly as they acknowledged him, Rory was moving down the table and pulling out a chair next to Harold as Minerva and Helena stood behind them speaking.

"Hey," Hermione laid her hand on his arm causing him to turn, and alter her greeting into a whispered question laced with worry, "what's wrong?"

George swallowed as he gave a gentle shake of his head, "Later, alright?"

She rubbed his upper arm in comfort, "Yeah."

"Ahh, what the hell?" Percy said from across the room, causing the whole of the occupants to look at him as his eyes remained upon George and Hermione. "I can't believe you two."

"Percy now is not the time," Arthur called to his son as Ron followed his brother's line of sight and his face instantly soured.

"Fine," he huffed, "but _we_ will be talking about this afterward, George."

George frowned at his brother, "What the hell are you on about, Perc?"

His face contorted, "I can't believe you didn't have the balls to just admit it the other morning."

"Oh hell," Hermione muttered as George's features morphed into anger, "Perc, we told you, it wasn't what it looked like."

"Wasn't what, what looked like?" Ron snapped from the other side of the room.

At this point, all eyes were oscillating between George, Hermione and Percy. And Rory easily surmised that it dealt with the other morning when Hermione had stayed with George, "I believe ya can address it later, as I havena time fur such foolishness."

"My brother sleeping with my wife isn't foolishness." Ron stated.

"I am not your wife and haven't been in months." Hermione retorted, "Nor am I sleeping with your brother!"

"Like hell you aren't!" Percy yelled, "You were draped over him in a passionate embrace, clothes soaked…"

"What?!" Ron roared.

"She stopped by, we had a few drinks, she crashed at my flat and she had a bit of a time waking up," George explained, "not that it's any of your concern."

"On a bloody school night, I don't think so."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ron," Hermione turned to him, "grow up."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Brown eyes burned in fury, "As often as you have with Fresca, satisfied?"

"George Michael Weasley, how dare you sleep with her?!" Molly snapped, "She's Ronald's wife!"

"I didn't sleep with her!" George yelled back at his mother, "For the last time, we are friends, nothing and I do mean nothing more!"

"First Charlie and now George…" Ron muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear him, "you'll be back because they aren't me."

"You smug son of a bitch, I wouldn't go back with you if you were the last fucking person on Earth."

"Enough," Minerva said as her sonos charm echoed over everyone quieting the room down in a flash enabling her to speak normally, "You will comport yourselves..."

"My apologies Minerva, but…" Molly leaned against the table, "since the Order is comprised with half of my family, you'll excuse me if we finish this so we can finally put this to rest."

"There isn't anything to put to rest," George stated, "as I don't love Hermione, I'm not sleeping with her and my brother is being a prat."

"Then who the hell are you sleeping with if not her that is demanding you keep it from your family …if not her?"

Rory felt a hand upon either thigh as both Harold and Minerva's fingers kept him seated while his lover faced his family's questions. Meanwhile, Hermione could see the flicker of fear dilate George's eyes and knew that while he was in love with Rory, he still wasn't ready to tell those closest to him. And she did the only thing she could, _because what the hell_…she thought as she opened her mouth, _it wasn't like she had a chance with Minerva. _"You don't need to cover anymore." She said, causing several jaws to drop and Harry to interject.

"Hermione, perhaps we should discuss this afterwards."

"No, Harry, it's alright." She said with mock assuredness, "Molly's right, we do need to get this out in the open."

Petrified blue eyes remained glued to hers as he shook his head, voice practically begging, "Hermione, don't…."

She smiled at him, "I got this," she breathed, "it is after all because of me that you are in this mess."

Minerva's grip on Rory's leg waned as she stared at Hermione, wondering what she was talking about. As Hermione had nothing to do with Rory and George and she felt a ping of worry begin to settle in her stomach at what did happen the other night. Because while Minerva knew why she had fled Hogwarts, she didn't have the slightest clue as to what the outcome was.

"Then you admit that you and George…" Molly began but Hermione merely shook her head causing the Weasley matriarch's voice to die away.

"No, George has been many things, but most importantly my friend. I stopped by this last week, we had a few drinks and I perhaps one too many. If I'm not mistaken," her eyes swam past emerald green eyes and landed upon olive ones, "he followed up on my request and asked if you could meet him this evening."

Angelina nodded as she found her voice, "He did."

George recalled the conversation he had with his dear friend Tuesday morning and how Hermione had come out at the end of it. And he didn't like where she was going with this, not in the slightest. "Hermione…"

"That was for me." Hermione said overriding George's soft interruption, "As I believed I've reached a point where I can balance home, work and finally being able to go out on a date." Hermione summoned up a tender expression, "It was supposed to be a surprise, and I'm sorry to do this now and with everyone here; but I hope you don't mind."

A pin drop could have been heard as everyone absorbed Hermione's words.

George opened his mouth to contradict her statement but he felt her boot heel sink into his foot and he clamped his mouth shut; his own secret momentarily safe at her expense and with the lie she had just constructed.

Molly, Charlie and Percy stared mouths agape.

Rory's lips pulled into a frown as concern flared in his orbs at the overreaching implications that he feared would ripple outwards from her statement.

Unbridled shock was plastered across Ron's face.

Wendell, along with Pansy and Draco's expressions all held one of mild interest.

Tessa looked like she could care less and the drama before her was beneath her.

Arthur's stoic gaze remained fixed upon his son, as he wondered what his son was hiding so desperately that he believed Hermione had stood in front of the family to protect him. Because Hermione was many things, attracted to someone who mirrored his youngest son; doubtful.

Pomona appeared concerned.

Filius was doubtful as his eyes flashed to Angelina who looked positively delighted at the notion.

Harold shared Helena's worry as the two struggled not to gaze at their friend, Harold feeling moderately buoyed that his wife was sitting right next to Minerva.

And Minerva, thank Merlin not one of the occupants happened to see her immediate facial expression. It easily mirrored Ronald's as she was utterly shocked, but in the next instance, she felt a harrowing regret pulse through her as she swallowed back the bile lurching in her throat at Angelina's enthusiastic reply; each word a knife piercing her soul.

"I'd love too." Angelina finally managed as her cheeks flamed red in embarrassment.

"Great," Hermione sat down, "I'll see you tonight."

"Can't wait." Angelina replied as Molly and everyone else suddenly found themselves trying not to watch but unable to look away.

Minerva felt Helena's hand upon her own and at the second squeeze; she returned the gesture letting her know that she was alright. _At least until I'm alone,_ she thought as she called the meeting to order, "I believe we've had enough theatrics for the morning and shall move onto the business at hand."

Hermione finally lifted her gaze from Angelina to Minerva as her clear contralto rumbled over them, and Hermione felt her anger and hurt resurface as the word 'theatric' left molded lips; because if anyone had been theatrical of late – it was _her_. To have Hermione believe that there could be something between them…she had to have known…and the woman in question met her momentary gaze, and Hermione dropped her eyes as her turbulent thoughts regurgitated the same commentary over and over again – until the meeting was finished, and she instantly departed the Manor. Needing to be away from the woman and her surroundings, and wanting a change of pace.

As she climbed the slate steps into Hogwarts, she couldn't help but think that perhaps going out with Angelina wouldn't be so bad after all. Because at the very least, she wouldn't be thinking about Minerva.

* * *

oxox

* * *

"You didn't tell her," Helena stated as she rounded on Minerva who closed the door to the library, silencing the rest of their conversation from the members of the Order lagging behind.

"I told you that I wouldn't," Minerva answered as she unfastened her collar, "and before you even think it, I want your promise that you shan't either."

"Never." Helena bristled in response to Minerva's attempt to elicit a promise she had absolutely no intention of giving.

"Helena…"

"Oh don't you Helena me, Minerva." She retorted becoming enraged at her friend's foolishness, "You are utterly miserable and want me to let you be so for the last few weeks of your life, and I'll have none of it."

"You will!" Minerva snapped back, "Damn you to hell, you will or so help me…"

"What could be worse? As you are already dying!"

"That's right," Minerva thrust her hand forward, "I AM DYING!"

"Minerva –"

Tears ebbed from green orbs as the anger left her marrow and her voice became barely audible, "I will be dead in weeks, Helena. Mere weeks and you think it right for me to tell a woman who is not even half my age that I love her? To what end? So she can cry over my grave after I am gone and wish that she had more time?"

"What if you don't die?"

She stopped before her curio cabinet and eyed the glasses, opting to pull two from its depths, "Have you not done the calculations?"

"I have, but as you stoutly disbelieve in anything involving portents; why does it matter?"

Minerva affixed the topper back onto the decanter as she turned, "I never said I didn't believe in Arthimancy, but I refuse to live my life based on signs and portents that are as clear as a Scottish sky and can change just as quickly."

"Then you believe…"

Minerva handed a glass to Helena, "How can I not? I can feel death's breath upon me, and my stomach recoils at the mere notion of casting even the simplest of spells. That isn't a portent Helena, it is a fact. Death is coming for me, and soon too. Whether from your calculations, to Adam's or even my father's; the twenty-fifth is only two weeks from today. Fourteen days, and even if I live past then; it shan't be for long as my magic is all but gone and then I shall be torn asunder from this world. So forgive me my friend, but I refuse to tell Hermione that I have fallen in love with her. For she deserves a chance at love; not at death."

"And what about you?"

"Me?" Minerva questioned as she took a sip of the whisky.

"Yes," Helena clipped, "what about your chance at having one more moment of love?"

Minerva strode forward and let her eyes take in the formidable family tree, landing upon the white branch so far above that held her parents' names; "But at what cost?"

"There is never a cost when loving someone, just when you deny it." Helena stepped beside her, their shoulders brushing, "Remember that one?"

"Vaguely," Minerva murmured in reply, "but that was a long time ago."

"And those words are still as true now as they were then."

"I was a different person," Minerva whispered to herself, "and refuse to desecrate my vows."

"Vows which Albus has told you he'd revoke."

"And if Harold revoked his vows but not his bond with you?"

"Do not bandy words, Minerva; nor make ill comparisons. As there have been no others whom has ever been in your situation, love. Nor will I daresay there shall be again. So you cannot compare yourself to others nor can others judge you."

"That is true, but I do have to live with myself in not only this life; but in every one that follows."

Helena let her head lean against Minerva's shoulder, "Merlin do I wish you weren't so damn noble."

"This has nothing to do with nobility, rather my conscious. And can you honestly tell me that you wouldn't do the same?"

Helena let her eyes fixate upon the base of tapestry, "I can only hope that I would remain as true." She straightened up and stepped forward, eyes narrowing as her hand reached outward to touch the oddly colored names.

"You would," Minerva said as she neared the mantle beside Helena.

"I thought these were white." Helena's fingers brushed across the bottom of the tapestry, "Wait," she said shaking her head, "if these are the bottom," her eyes cast upwards several generations to familiar branching, "that meant that your father never used to show the bottom dozen generations. Why was that, by the way?"

"He thought it prudent to start with the Hogwarts founders, as the family can trace their lineage to that point and prior to it is sketchy and based largely regarding this tapestry which was not discovered until Hogwarts was erected."

"And why do you believe these names are black, when no others are?"

"It has been that way since the earliest days; I asked Helga and Godric about it. Neither knew. Speculation is that a spell struck it turning the verbiage black, it isn't soiled nor burnt as the family has tried to restore the names to their original color."

Helena let her head drop back to gaze up to the formidable tree, "Was your father concerned that his family wasn't descended from Merlin?"

"He believed that the tree is missing layers and subsets and as such that's why he didn't display it." Minerva brought out her wand and placed the tip upon Merlin's name. At once light spread across the tree, "If you look at where there isn't light, there are holes and gaps along the whole breadth of the tree that when not lit isn't noticeable."

"Is there a vanishing spell upon a line?"

"If so, it remains unbroken." Minerva said withdrawing her wand, "And no, father could have cared less if he was descended from Merlin or Morgana. According to the lines, it could be Merlin; there is question regarding a child born within the clan and if it was father's child or a child sired by an English nobleman who performed first night upon the marriage."

"I can't imagine a time where that was permissible," Helena said with a shudder.

"Me either, although, I would dare any man; noble or otherwise to try to have their way with you or I."

Helena chuckled, "It would be a poor night indeed for someone." Her left hand remained upon the mantle, as she turned to Minerva. "I do understand and you are right; I wouldn't break my vows with Harold. So I am sorry I continue to push, but I do so because she should know the truth as well." She stretched out her right hand laying it upon Minerva's arm, "And while you may not have sex with her, it doesn't mean you shouldn't be free to love her; and she to know what it would be like to be loved by you."

"I just…" Teary eyes blinked as a heavy breath left through pinched lips, "while that sounds laudable," her cadence cracked as the woman finally emerged along with the truth, "I don't think I'd be strong enough to do as you say."

Sparkling green eyes met bottomless blue one, "You are the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong enough to love her and then leave."

Helena reached up, a hand running across her cheek, "You are." She said reassuringly.

"She hates me," Minerva murmured falling into Helena's arms. "And she is going out with Angelina this evening, so perhaps it is all for the best."

"She's merely hurt," Helena replied kissing her temple as she held her, "and Angelina is many things, but she is not _you. _Nor is Hermione trying to replace you." Helena softly breathed, "I think that whole mess with Angelina had more to do with George than her."

"I asked Hermione if she'd like to come to dinner this evening before this morning, and she said she had plans."

Helena's pulled back, "She's hurt. And I can't say that I blame the woman. You've definitely not made it easy on her. But for both your sakes, you need to tell her."

Despite herself, Minerva felt a chuckle erupt from her lungs at her Helena's commentary, "I can't say this has been easy on anyone."

"Then you mean to tell her?" Helena asked as she gazed into her face.

"I…"

"Just tell her that you do love her, and your reasons for why didn't wish to tell her."

"And if she says no, that she doesn't love me."

"She won't."

"But if she does…"

"She won't." Helena reassured, "Trust me."

"I've heard that one before." Minerva quipped, "And I ended up paying far more than the bill."

Helena's smile widened, "I know, and if I recall, that was a _good_ day."

"You're incorrigible."

"That I am," Helena agreed, "and you can thank me in our next life." Helena said as she leaned forward and kissed her cheek, "Now, I'm thinking a quiet dinner…"

* * *

xoxo

* * *

"I don't believe it." Ron repeated to the small gathering of family that still remained in the Manor, "Angelina? There is no way. First off, she's a witch and Hermione certainly doesn't like women. I just don't get why she'd say that, unless she and George are really having a go."

"That's enough Ron." Harry stated growing madder by the second.

"Except, when George has been out with his mystery woman, I know she has been elsewhere."

"Ron…" Harry's voice held a warning, "stop."

"So, perhaps that does track, but Angelina…she likes what I do, so unless she's suddenly attracted to women, I don't see 'Mione going for her over me."

"I don't know," Charlie interjected, "they were going at it pretty good the night of her birthday. And even you had to admit it was pretty damn hot, Ron."

His face reddened, "I said no such thing!"

"Yes you did," Harry growled, "And if I recall, you wanted them to do it again."

"Yeah, kiss; not fuck each other."

"You're just pissed that she wants someone _other _than you!"

"I am not!"

"Then why do you care who she sleeps with? Because, if you don't, it really shouldn't matter!"

"The only reason you'd say that is because you were bloody sleeping with her! You prig! You are cheatin' on Ginny!"

Harry didn't hesitate as a loud crack resonated outward, his left hand having struck Ron as his right one pulled his wand from his belt. "You son of a bitch!"

Harry's eyes burned in undulated fury, "It's a damn good thing I love your sister along with your parents Ron, or I'd send you to St. Mungos as their guest for the week; locked in a joint bind."

"Go ahead and try you egotistical asshole!"

"That's enough!" Charlie yelled suddenly very concerned where the outcome of this conversation was heading.

Both men clamped their mouths shut, Ron's ears having turned as pink as his cheeks; while Harry's face was flushed a far deeper shade but his eyes burned in anger.

"You two are friends, now sort it accordingly."

"Hermione said you were having a difficult time of late, so I'll let the comment about Ginny pass. But you had better get your head on straight, mate as if you had said that around Hermione or Ginny, I'd be peeling them off you."

"I'm not the one who needs to get…"

"Shove it Ron," Charlie snapped, "Lately, you have been a bigger prat than Percy ever was. After I said I had a thing for Hermione, you went out of your way to make my life miserable; and drawing mom into it. Now you think George is the culprit and even going so far as insinuating that Harry is sleeping with her. I know you cannot believe that she divorced you, but she did and you need to learn to accept that before you make an even bigger fool of yourself than you already have."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva arrived back at Hogwarts and immediately turned to Godric, "Can you please tell Hermione I wish to speak with her."

"She left almost immediately upon arriving."

Minerva sighed, "Please inform me when she returns this afternoon," she went to grab her correspondence but Godric's words momentarily paralyzed her.

"She said Filius would be watching the Tower and she wouldn't be back until late."

"Minerva," Albus shifted to a lower portrait, "I'm sure she'll be alright."

"I may have made an egregious mistake, Albus." She said turning back to him, "And I had hoped to rectify it before it was too late."

Concern rippled across their bond, along with worry, love, apprehension, and a sense of dread. This combination of emotions in accordance with what he had felt earlier led him to an uncomfortable truth, "You mean to tell her."

"Yes," Minerva softly uttered, "I do."

"Then you mean to go through with what I proposed?"

"No," Minerva breathed; lilt dancing across her brogue, "I won't break our vow Albus. But I do mean to tell her how I feel."

"Good," he gently stated.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione deactivated the wards along her doorway and stepped into her home. It was odd really, like visiting a memory. She hadn't been back here since the start of term year, and as she gazed about, she realized she hadn't missed it.

Shaking her head and her musings she closed the door and made her way upstairs to get ready for her date this evening without having to worry about interruptions or questions she didn't feel like answering yet.

As she waved the lights on in the hallway, she couldn't help but lament the evening that lay ahead. Because while she wouldn't have time to think of Minerva, she'd much rather be at the castle grading papers or working on her research or even visiting with the children; none of which would occur this evening.

She strode into her bedroom as she waved open her closet, eyes glancing over her wardrobe that still remained here. "Damn you George," she muttered as she pulled out a black blouse, "you are so going to owe me."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Percy stared slack-jawed at his brother, "You can't be serious."

"After what you did this morning to not only me, but to Hermione; why wouldn't I be?"

"That was personal, and…"

"So is this." George countered.

"I'm a partial owner."

"Consider yourself bought out. I'll have a ledger drawn up and sent over to Gringotts by today's end."

"George…"

"Leave your keys on your way out."

"Don't."

"What would you think would happen, Perc? That we'd just hug and make up? We told you that nothing was going on between us, and still you pushed."

"What was I to think after the other morning and then the way she was next to you earlier?"

"She's my bloody friend, who happened to realize that I am having a row with the person I _do_ care about. Nothing more."

"So then the whole thing with Angelina was that true or not?"

"Percy, I love you; but if you are going to continue working here then you and I are going to have a few essential ground rules. The first being my flat is off limits without firecalling beforehand; the second being that you believe me when I tell you to because while I have joked with you I have never once lied."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, I'm not here. I don't care if dad comes through that door, you are going to tell all that ask that I'm not here. Understood?"

"George, I'm sorry…"

"Don't," George held up his hand, "I don't even want to think about earlier, so just…don't." He said walking towards the office without a backward glance.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Ginny stared at her husband aghast, "He said what?!"

"Hermione has said that he was acting different and I didn't want to believe it, but after what happened this morning…"

"I can't believe he would say that." She said shaking her head, "That doesn't make sense."

"I know," he said sitting next to her, "and once I calmed down, I thought about taking him in and having a full work up done on him to make sure he hasn't been cursed because he was out there a bit."

"Do you remember your fourth year, when he was bent out of shape that you got to compete and he didn't?"

Harry groaned in remembrance, "How could I forget."

"What could possibly have happened that he has wanted and didn't get?"

He shrugged, "I can't think of anything other than Hermione didn't take him back after they separated."

A pensive expression settled upon her face, "You think it could be that simple?" At his pinched lips she amended, "I know, I don't even know why I asked. It's my brother after all."

"What we need to do is figure out how to get him to come to accept that she isn't coming back before he steps any farther over the line." He took off his glasses rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Because Ginny he was being an ass."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva watched as the sun was eclipsed by the Forbidden Forest, another indicator that night was rapidly approaching and the day was all but gone. And she couldn't help but feel like an old fool.

After all, it was no one's fault but her own.

Tily appeared beside her, "Would you like me to transport you to the Hall for dinner?"

With a final gaze to the snowy grounds, she nodded. "Yes, as I fear that my available time has elapsed for the day."

"Minerva?"

"Never mind my musings, Tily. The Hall would be lovely."

"They prepared a harvest stew, along with potatoes, roast, candied carrots…" Minerva had stopped listening as Tily apparated her to the side door, her thoughts upon the evening ahead as she felt her fingers curl around the door knob. Because as much as she would love to adjourn to her rooms after the evening meal to await Hermione's arrival, she was due to entertain at the Manor for an evening spent with family and friends.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes as she finally caught her breath, "I…never…knew."

Angelina shrugged, smile still firmly intact, "Other than George and Fred, I doubt anyone else would know. And what about you, I'm sure you have loads of stories from your own youth."

"The only one that comes anywhere near that is when I mixed a batch of polyjuice up in my second year."

"Where on earth did you steep it?"

"Myrtle's bathroom."

Angelina nodded in understanding, "Brilliant, but I'm guessing one of the professor's found out."

Hermione paused as she processed Angelina's comment and she couldn't help but wonder if Albus and Minerva knew about her brewing the potion; and if so, why they didn't stop them. "No," Hermione finally responded, "the problem wasn't with the brewing, but the application."

"Did you turn into a guy or something?"

"Worse, a cat; I believed I had Millicent's hair and it turned out to be a cat's."

Angelina's eyes widened in disbelief, "Truly?"

"Oh, it was horrible, I thought I was going to die when I went to tell Poppy what happened."

"How'd she take it?"

"It was like she already knew, but what was even more humiliating was telling…"

"McGonagall." Angelina interjected, "As it always seemed more real somehow when I'd have to tell her."

"For me, it was Dumbledore. At least after the cat incident, I suppose until then it was Minerva; but after she helped me get through that, I didn't mind going to her."

"So, were there any residual things you had to deal with after turning into a cat?"

"Just the hair balls." Hermione dead panned and at Angelina's questioning look she couldn't help but laugh, again.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva no sooner stepped into the hallway after exiting the Great Hall, and she felt an elf's hand grip her arm; and the next step she was traversing the hallway in her Manor approaching the formal dining room.

Gone were the days that she'd alter her attire with a swish of her hand, and she grudgingly accepted that her 'traditional' robes would have to suffice for the evening. Steeling her back, she pushed open the door to be greeted by a sea of familiar faces.

"Good evening," she said in welcoming, "I apologize for my tardiness." She barely kept her shoulders from slumping at seeing _who _the open seat was by. It wasn't that she didn't like or even love her daughter, quite the opposite; but she just didn't know how she'd get through tonight of all nights while sitting next to her.

Filius paused mid-sip, "I did try to persuade Aurora to leave it till tomorrow."

"As did I," Minerva replied as she took up the open seat next to Tessa and Helena; mentally cursing Helena for not arranging the seating differently. "However, she wished it resolved before the lunar eclipse this coming week."

"I thought that was this evening." Harold interjected.

"It's Tuesday evening," Filius said shifting to meet his gaze, "Aurora hasn't stopped speaking about it for the last month."

The lunar conversation continued on, moving past Minerva and Helena as they had one unto themselves enabled through decades of friendship. Helena's fingers lightly came to rest upon Minerva's leg, question evident in Helena's eyes as she turned towards her.

"_Did you speak with her?"_

Minerva patted her hand in response, meaning equally clear.

"_Not yet," _as Minerva had not seen Hermione to speak with her.

"_You will,"_ Helena replied as she squeezed Minerva's fingers in comfort, _"and it'll be alright."_

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Angelina smiled as the live band began their second set, "Don't you like to dance?"

Hermione blinked at the woman sitting next to her, "Ahhh, yes, but I've never danced to big band music before."

Angelina stood and offered her hand, "It's fun and I'll teach you. Besides, I need to burn off some of what we've drank."

"I…" Hermione felt torn at the notion, because she did like to dance. A lot. And she hadn't since Minerva…and as if a white knife sliced through her heart at the mere thought of the woman and it caused her to place her hand in dexterous, slightly calloused hands. "I'll try."

Angelina's smile grew, "You won't be sorry."

"Who taught you?" Hermione asked as they wound themselves through the tables to the dance floor that had held three other couples who were all dancing as if they'd done it for years.

"My parents." She said as she stepped onto the dance floor, "And don't let your Gryffindor courage fail you now, no one here knows us, so what do you have to lose?"

The trumpet player started and Hermione took the last fateful step, and let go of her worry and everything the last week had held as Angelina placed fingers within hers and the brass melody continued on.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva set her fork down and pulled her napkin from her lap, placing it on the table. She was done for the evening as she reached forward to finish off the last of her wine as Harold relayed the latest results from the Department of Mysteries regarding blood markers.

Minerva listened with half an ear, having already discussed this with Helena after the first of the year and her own brush with death and how they had asked and used Lucius' blood.

"When do you plan on going public?" Jordan's curiosity obviously piqued, "As this seems as though it will revolutionize how we treat witches and wizards."

"It certainly will," Helena remarked, "as for time tables, it'll be soon; but I doubt it will be within the next few weeks. Harold has been sharing the information he has, and we have a small group of healers and one of the Unspeakable divisions acquiring more data. I'm hoping within the next month to be able to have some quantifiable statistics and then move forward at that juncture."

Minerva vaguely heard Rory's voice enter into the dialogue as her thoughts returned to Hermione and wondering if she had returned to Hogwarts.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Three songs later, Hermione easily recognized the musical notes bursting from the horns; In the Mood. And, unlike the previous songs in which she had stumbled and they had laughed as Angelina showed her the basic steps. Steps that weren't difficult to recall, just difficult to recall while trailblazing around the floor at the high energy tempo. This song, she felt herself relaxing as they began to dance.

And as Angelina let go of her hand and swept her in a twirl and brought her back; Hermione did something she hadn't done in a week. She smiled. A full bright smile for the world to see, as she was having fun. A lot of fun.

A lot of fun with Angelina…and as they side stepped and her body twirled again, she decided to do something she hadn't intended and let go of it all but what the hell, she hadn't intended to even be here tonight with Angelina anyway.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva tipped her head, ensuring that everyone was continuing to move away before she spoke with Rory, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"It's naught fo'r ya ta worry 'bout." His voice lacking conviction and she sighed knowing that her actions had probably affected him too.

"You and George, how long has this been going on?"

"Leave it be, luv." He replied.

"Has it been longer than this week?" She asked ignoring his remark which she easily confirmed by the flash in his eyes causing her shoulders to sink. "Undoubtedly it stems from your friendship with me and George's with Hermione…"

"Luv, ya asked and I promised; there is nah more ta say. George is being a daft fool, and I willna listen ta him bein' that way, especially ta ya. And the discord between us is nothin' compared ta what I had ta listen ta today."

Minerva inwardly winced as she too recalled this morning's meeting, however, she did so for far different reasons. Reasons she knew she was responsible for, but just the same, reasons she hoped to put right upon her return to Hogwarts and upon seeing Hermione. Stifling her own problems, she laid her hand upon the edge of his shoulder, physically conveying her sympathy regarding what he was upset over. Because while Hermione had in essence lain bare what was going on, not in relation to what had transpired between them, but that she was going out with Angelina in what none would know save Minerva in an obvious attempt to put some distance between them; Hermione needn't have said anything if George had merely admitted that he had been in a relationship with Rory. "Have you spoken to him?" she gently questioned.

His jaw rippled as he vainly tried to keep the emotion from his voice, "Nah, and I have nah reason ta."

"Rory…"

Grey eyes blazed as they settled upon sorrowful green ones, "It's been over three months, Minerva. And while I do luv him, I willna wait forever for him ta admit that he luvs me ta his family."

She let his anger wash over her, acting a like a soothing balm as her gentle contralto rippled with an equally thick brogue between them, "He will, ya just have to give him time."

"He's had…"

"Not enough," she interjected, "but he will." Her eyes flared with hope as she leaned a hairs breath closer, "Trust in him, Rory. Along with yourself. And your love for the other. He'll come around, you just have to give him a little more time." Her eyes misted over a bit as her brogue cracked as she finished, "Something you both area fortunate enough to have."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

The music slowed from the fast paced tempo to a song with a much slower waltz and Hermione shifted; causing Angelina's eyes to widen and her own smile to do so in equal measure, "So you can dance to the fast paced, but not this?"

A rose color instantly stained Angelina's cheeks, "Not so well, no."

"We can waltz to this," Hermione said not willing to leave the floor yet, "come on now, don't let your Gryffindor courage fail you now."

Angelina nodded, "Alright," she stood in front of Hermione, "teach me."

Hermione placed her hand upon Angelina's side, and for the briefest of seconds she remembered what it was like when a sure hand was lain upon her waist as emerald eyes stared into her own. How her brogue had uttered the beat, moving them around the dance floor…and as she repeated what she had learned, she smiled into olive eyes and couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to lead someone else across the floor.

"Sorry," Angelina stated breaking Hermione's ruminations with not only her apology but the pressure of her foot being stepped on.

"Don't worry," Hermione reassured, "I was horrible when I was learning."

"Who taught you?" Angelina managed to ask as she desperately tried to not to step upon Hermione's foot again.

"Minerva did as part of my training," Hermione replied as Angelina's eyes jerked up to hers in surprise and then just as quickly they darted down as Hermione felt Angelina's foot step upon hers again.

"Damn," Angelina muttered, "sorry."

"I already said…"

"Don't worry," Angelina stated, "but I don't want your foot bruised."

"I'm fine. And you aren't near as dangerous as I was when I began," Hermione turned them effortlessly around the floor, "as I was constantly stepping on both Minerva and Neville's feet for the better part of a week."

"You like her." Angelina stated as the song ended and a serenade came on, causing her to bring Hermione closer as she watched rounded features for any sign, one way or the other.

Hermione was thankful that by the time Angelina had shifted them closer that she was sure the surprise was no longer lingering across her eyes, "I've seen a very different side of her this past year," Hermione noncommittally stated as Angelina's eyes swept over her face.

"That's what my aunt Myriam says." Angelina immediately dissuaded the oncoming question, "Yes, the one that is married to Hooch and of which I was eternally grateful that she wasn't responsible for almost killing McGonagall, you and a whole mess of persons."

"How are she and Rolanda doing? Minerva gave an update to Rolanda's physical health about two weeks ago at the last staff meeting; but I haven't heard otherwise."

"Myriam won't leave her side; they are at their home in Canterbury while Rolanda recovers. The healers said that it will take another two to three months for the antidote to fully work the poison out of her muscle tissue, and until that occurs she is very limited on the amount of time she can walk or be up and about."

"She'll be in therapy for months afterwards."

"She is planning on returning to Hogwarts as soon as the poison is mitigated, therapy or no."

"Minerva temporarily brought Russell Higgins in to cover until Rolanda returns, she needs to ensure she's well before hurrying back."

"I think that both Myriam and Rolanda want to return as soon as possible, healthy or not; because they want to be there to support McGonagall and Hogwarts."

"But being less than a hundred percent won't help anyone." Hermione countered, causing a smirk to play at Angelina's lips.

"Then why did you get St. Mungos to release you two weeks ago when you should just be returning to Hogwarts, now?"

Hermione clamped her mouth shut as her eyes narrowed at the woman moving them about the dance floor, "How do you know that?"

"I'm an Auror," Angelina cryptically stated, "it's my job."

Disbelief pulled at lips, "Right."

"Actually," Angelina leaned closer, "it is." Her breath caressing Hermione's ear as she took in the light almond mixed with the earthy sweet from the damp strands of hair, "I was part of the detail ordered to protect you while you were at St. Mungos."

Hermione felt her heart speed up at the intimate gesture, but it was immediately damped by Angelina's following statement causing her to pull back, "What detail?"

"The Minister ordered that you and McGonagall under protective detail after apprehending Phillips when not at Hogwarts."

Hermione fully stepped away from Angelina, "So right now there are Aurors or Unspeakables here?"

"Of course," Angelina stated confused, and felt a string of curses bubble up her throat as Hermione moved off the dance floor and quickly made her way back to their table. She sat down in time to place her hand atop the slightly smaller one, "I don't understand what's wrong. They've been with you since you were released two weeks ago. Save for when you were with the Harrisons the first night, the detail was ordered not to follow. But otherwise, when you went to the Three Broomsticks, George's or even your home this afternoon, they followed you."

"Someone could have told me," Hermione snapped infuriated at Arthur and as Angelina opened her mouth to repute some of her comment, she felt her anger shift to the person who probably did ask Arthur to place her under protective detail. The same person who had helped to arrange it for some many others unbeknownst to them, Minerva.

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew."

"Why? Because Arthur is my father-in-law? Or because Minerva was the one who pulled the strings to make it happen?"

"This wasn't Minerva, but it came from the Minister as a directive. As for why, I had thought he told you; it is only when you leave Hogwarts as he didn't think the McGonagall would permit Aurors to be stationed throughout Hogwarts."

Her thoughts drifted back to the last two weeks, and she inwardly groaned. _She and Minerva were followed when they went out,_ "So when I went to London two weekends ago, I was followed?"

"The first weekend was under the Unspeakable division, so I'm sure. Although, it wasn't in their report." Angelina's eyes narrowed, as she recalled the notes, "They said you remained at Hogwarts for the duration. Where in London did you go?"

"Just to George's and back," Hermione stated without hesitation and felt worry lessen as Angelina's shoulders relaxed, but she couldn't help but wonder why the Unspeakable division didn't state where she and Minerva had gone; unless…they didn't know, which bode another series of questions.

Angelina took a chance clearing her throat as she did, "As you aren't the type to like being followed everywhere, why don't we leave for the evening and go somewhere besides Hogwarts and without your shadows?"

Hermione pulled herself from her own thoughts and felt herself nod before she fully processed Angelina's statement, but it was one that held merit. As she loathed the notion of being followed, something she was going to speak with Arthur about first thing tomorrow; and she was certainly not ready to return to Hogwarts and risk seeing Minerva. Her heart just wasn't ready yet. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tessa fought off another yawn, "I'm going to head back to the Ridge," she said while standing. "The kids will be up early and I wanted to visit with Audrey first thing."

Rory stood too, "I'll walk ya as I've gotta a meetin' at daybreak."

Farewells and hugs were exchanged, leaving only Percival along with Helena and Harold; Pomona and Filius having left over two hours ago.

"I didn't want to bring this up with Tessa here, but Milan stopped by recently." Percival stated without preamble, "Has she been by to see you?" A speck of hope lacing his voice.

Both Harold and Helena stopped moving as their eyes remained plastered upon Minerva's countenance, "She hasn't," Minerva succinctly replied.

"Audrey asked that she see you." He lamely stated as he twirled his glass along the palm of his hand.

"I'm sure you both did, but she hasn't and I shan't hold my breath."

"Mother, whatever happened between you both, she said she forgave you."

Minerva's brow instantly rose, and Harold cleared his throat hoping to alter the course of the conversation, but Minerva's eyes didn't move from her son's. "Truly," she clipped, "then I shall be expecting her on my doorstep anytime."

"She wants to put the past to rest."

"The past," Minerva softly repeated, before sorrowful eyes met his, "is solely where she has wished to live and where I do not have the luxury of spending even a minute of time."

"After our conversation, I'm certain she wishes to move on."

Minerva sighed, "I forgave her decades ago, Perc; she has to learn to forgive herself." She shook her head to dispel her melancholy as a hollow voice finished her thought. "And if she doesn't do it soon, it shan't matter."

"Mother….!" Percival snapped, "Why would you say that!"

"Because it's the truth," Minerva rebuked, "as you well know. Let it be, Perc. If it is meant to be, it shall. Now," She cleared her throat, "shall we move onto cheerier topics."

"Then perhaps you will finally divulge Rory's lover's name." Percy said trying to lighten the mood, and felt a pang of worry at seeing his mother's eyes mist over.

"He'll tell you when he's ready." Minerva whispered as her thoughts went to Rory and his heartache.

"He's been seeing the fella for over three months, how much longer will he need till he's ready?"

"It isn't him," Helena relayed, "as Rory would have told you months ago." Her eyes rested upon Minerva's face. "But as with all things of the heart, it's never as straightforward as it seems."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione hadn't known what to expect when Angelina said she knew of a place that the Auror's wouldn't follow. However, she hadn't believed that would mean that she was standing within Angelina's flat. The living room was spacious, and with a flick of her wand; the furniture vanished and reappeared beside the wall.

"I figured we could have a few more dances." Angelina stated with mock assuredness as the definitive sound of a French horn mixed with a trumpet and the sounds of the Big Band filled the flat. She stepped closer while tucking her wand away, her hand out; and she felt her heart skip a beat as Hermione's hand landed within her own.

"I'd like that." Hermione breathed as Angelina spun her around and she couldn't help but feel lighter.

The songs went by in a blur until their bodies were swaying to the soft, slow tempo; Angelina's hands sliding down the lush curves of her waist and pulling her hips ever closer as Angelina let her lips brush across the smooth skin of Hermione's ear. "I want you." She breathed before tantalizingly drawing her ever closer as she tugged on Hermione's ear lobe.

Hermione's eyes fluttered close, trying not to think how wonderful it felt to be wanted by someone, even if that someone wasn't Minerva.

Her heart seized at Minerva's name – because _she_ would never hear those words uttered from sculpted lips.

Nor that _she _loved her.

Wanted her.

And there was nothing Hermione could do to alter that.

Because Minerva was bound to Albus forever and a whimper escaped her throat as Angelina's mouth continued their tentative strokes along her neck that she had inadvertently exposed more to her…

But at the same time, was unwilling to stop herself from just letting herself go…because the woman how had captured her heart was totally unavailable.

And she did the only thing she could.

She stopped thinking about what she couldn't and never would have, and let her body just feel...and she pulled Angelina closer against her chest as she turned her head and captured moist lips with her own.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Minerva set her correspondence down not willing to reply this evening, as she didn't have the patience. Her thoughts were unabashedly elsewhere, and with a sigh she folded her glasses and tucked them into her robes.

"Minerva, I'm sure she's fine." Albus said comfortingly, "Go to bed, you're exhausted. You can speak with her tomorrow."

"True, and I shall." Minerva replied as her eyes flickered to the door, "After I conduct my rounds."

"The portraits did already, you needn't…" Albus' voice died away knowing it was folly, because he was fully aware of her stubbornness when she wished something. The door opened without her reaching for it, and moments later he was once again alone with his predecessors.

"She's always visually inspected the doors Albus," Rowena chastised, "even now at the end, do you truly expect her to be any different."

Albus held his tongue, because he knew and could feel the truth which was far different than Rowena or probably any others would believe. While his wife was exhausted, she was also restless, worried…and very anxious.

* * *

oxox

* * *

Angelina's knees sunk into the chesterfield straddling Hermione's thighs as she once again leaned in to kiss lush lips while Hermione's shirt fell from her right hand; before she let it ghost up the soft flesh. "You're beautiful," she murmured as pulled back just enough to let her gaze feast upon the woman beneath her.

Hermione reached up, fingers pulling Angelina back to her; wanting to feel moist lips to help keep her wayward thoughts back from where they were already going. Because she shouldn't feel guilty, but as Angelina's lips once again found hers, her guilt was momentarily forgotten as she opened her mouth to the thrusting tongue while questing fingers rippled over her cotton bra.

Warm hands molded around her breasts before thumbs swept over the rest of the fabric until stopping atop her nipples. There was a lengthy pause as Angelina's thumbs remained motionless while her hands stroked the sides and her mouth continued its onslaught and Hermione's hands swept down strong legs and up Angelina's athletic thighs causing Angelina to break their kiss as she moaned against the side of her mouth.

Hermione kissed the edge of her lips and felt her eyes drift close as deft thumbs began coaxing already aching nipples. And before she could process that Angelina had stopped kissing her mouth; strong, demanding lips engulfed her right nipple and brought it into her warmth. Teeth, lips and Angelina's tongue at first lavished its pebbled flesh before she began to suckle it. A moan slipped from Hermione's lips as her head lulled to the side, the word Minerva forming on her tongue and beginning to rumble from her throat but Angelina stopped and palmed her face; olive eyes peering into a sea of honey brown as Angelina brought their lips back together - effectively silencing the name but not the guilt.

Guilt at using Angelina and at not being faithful to Minerva.

_Minerva,_ the name that had become both her savior and downfall; and with misty eyes as she placed her hands upon Angelina's shoulders and gently pushed her back.

Expressive winter green orbs widened at seeing Hermione's face, "Are you alright?" her voice rumbled in question.

"No," Hermione breathed, hand staying Angelina's movements, "it isn't you, I'm just not…" she reached up and cupped her face, "ready yet. I thought I was, but I'm not."

Angelina shifted to sit beside her, "Was it something I did?"

"No," Hermione said reassuringly, "I just…am not ready."

"You still love Ron," Angelina said with a sigh, "despite your exchange this morning."

Hermione opened her mouth to rebuke her statement, but found the words dying in her throat because what was she to say? That she loved Minerva McGonagall? Who was bound? Who could never, ever love her? "It's complicated," she breathed as she scooted forward on the chesterfield and then stood, picking up her shirt as she did. "Look, I had a marvelous evening. And I hope you don't think less of me, but I just…I need to go."

Angelina was standing in a heartbeat, grabbing Hermione by the forearm. "What happened to your Gryffindor bravery?"

"My heart is standing in its way." Hermione softly replied not willing to turn and see Angelina's hurt expression.

"Hey," she stepped back into her personal space, "I understand," Angelina breathed across Hermione's neck before coming around to face her, "just don't shut me out. I'll be here," Angelina whispered as her fingers ran down Hermione's jaw.

"I know," Hermione murmured as she searched gentle eyes, "I just need some time."

Angelina leaned in brushing her lips ever so softly against Hermione's before replying, "Take all the time you need."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva felt the wards shift and her heart leapt into her throat as she quickly made her way to the back staircase along the northern entry. She could feel her hip want to catch, but she kept moving, ignoring it as her grip on the banister tightened to offset the way her joint was locking up. Because she had waited the whole of the day, and if she was being honest with herself, she had been waiting for much, much longer than that to tell Hermione how she felt.

And while she still wasn't entirely comfortable with the notion, she couldn't deny how light her steps felt. It was as if she was gliding.

Feeling a smile curl her lips she continued on her way to the main doors, only mildly cursing that she couldn't change into her animagus and dart through the halls to ensure that she would arrive before Hermione. Although, feeling as she did, she didn't need to dart…her feet swept down the stone hallways, boots clipping and clacking at a speed that she hadn't been able to maintain in well over a year.

She rounded the corner eyes springing ahead to see the door already opening, and she felt herself increase her speed a half measure more when she noticed the mussed hair of chestnut head. At once worry crashed through her happiness, her mouth opening to ask if she was alright as Hermione's form turned and closed the door, "Hermione…"

Startled, Hermione turned and her eyes widened at seeing Minerva quickly closing the distance, and the love for the woman opposite flared to life as did the shame of her actions, but at seeing the worry falling away from chiseled features to be replaced with distance and growing walls. Hermione gasped in realization at how she must look, as she had hurriedly dressed and not bothered to check her appearance before leaving Angelina's. She felt a deep blush flare up her chest, neck and across her cheeks as Minerva drew to an abrupt stop two meters away. And Hermione watched the last tendrils of warmth vanish from Minerva's features until she was staring at the emotionless visage of the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"I hope you had a pleasant time this evening," Minerva briskly stated raising her hand and with barely a flick; a deep thrum reverberated across the stone as the lock was set across the oak doors. "Good night." She stated as she turned on her heel and began to walk toward the main staircase.

Hermione shook herself from the icy demeanor that had overcome Minerva's countenance as she scrambled to catch up to her, "Minerva…wait…" she said reaching out, and at touching her arm, Minerva's body froze, "it's not what you…"

Minerva turned around, voice overriding what she knew she couldn't listen to as she fought to keep her stoicism in place lest it crumbled, "Don't bother Professor as I can smell her." She coldly stated and felt Hermione's fingers fall from her arm as swollen lips separated in shock as Hermione's cheeks blushed three shades darker and Minerva ignored it all as she forced herself to continue on, "I am merely relieved you returned unharmed, good night." At once, she turned and began ascending the stairs wanting to somehow flee faster. So as to not smell the decadent earthy scent of Hermione's arousal mixed with her base scent and interspersed with almond, vanilla and the burning scent of a sharp musk that told her far more than she ever wished to know. Cursing her own foolishness and hope, in conjunction with her animagus senses, she rounded the stairs to the second floor as the first set of tears slip off her cheeks as she numbly made her way to her rooms.

The door to the elevator closing behind her as she sunk to the carpeted floor, gasping in anguish as large tears splashed down her face. The reality of what she had discovered crushing the last of her spirit as her soul cried for what it had unwittingly lost, even though it was never truly hers to have.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: As always, hope you enjoyed! I'll try not to leave you hanging for too terribly long as I know the day didn't end will, but alas, as I stated a few chapters ago, it is going to get much harder before it gets any easier. Although, I'm thinking George may not survive Hermione's tongue lashing…. ;) _


	109. Chapter 104 February 14th, 2010

**Chapter 104 ~ February 14****th****, 2010 (Sunday)**

Minerva eased off the mattress, the middle of her back catching as did her hip from having fallen asleep on the floor, and thankfully one of the elves had moved her mid-night lest she not be able to move at all. Long fingers reached out and gripped her end table, turning white as she supported more of her weight as she willed her leg to do what currently seemed like the impossible, to work.

Swallowing a groan, she pushed forward as her eyes partially closed from the pain; relishing the momentary diversion from Hermione's disheveled look, the way Angelina's musk still burnt the inside of her nose, and how both those memories were at her own behest. For she had wanted, and in truth a small part still did want, Hermione to find love and be happy.

_She just hadn't expected her to find it so fast._

Nor for it to hurt as much as it did.

But apparently, Hermione had found a connection with Angelina; _Merlin forgive her, she'd find a way to be happy for Hermione. _

_Somehow._

However, it wouldn't be today.

Because today, she just hurt.

With a jilted movement, Minerva pulled her hand from the end table and grabbed the door's molding as the tears began again. Not from her leg, but from the still gaping hole in her heart.

A hole that she never should have felt, based on a love that never should have happened. But it did; and it was consuming her faster than her magic was leaving her.

And she didn't know which was scarier.

Losing her magic or the blossoming love she felt for Hermione.

* * *

**Oxox**

* * *

Hermione glared at Ron, "I can't believe you Ronald!"

"Hey, I thought you'd be happy that I was taking the kids today." He snapped back, "I'm not doing enough, now what, I'm doing too much?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but instead took a deep breath, because while she was angry at him; he was not the source of her anger, well, at least not today. "Just…be careful today, alright?"

"I was going to take them to the park and then dinner."

"Will Fresca be joining you?" Hermione asked, trying her damnedest to keep the edge from her voice.

"No," he placed his hand atop hers, "I was serious when I said that I'd like another chance with you and the kids."

"And I was honest in my reply yesterday. It's over between us Ronald."

"Is this because of Angelina?" He asked as he pulled a copy of the Prophet from behind his back and flipped it open to show her and Angelina across the front of the paper – dancing. And her heart just sank as she reached forward and took the paper from him. Her eyes latched onto the image of herself and Angelina as they moved in tandem to the fast paced tempo. His large hand landed across the middle of the picture as he repeated his question, "Is this because of Angelina?"

"I wish it were that simple," she finally replied as she met his eyes, "and before you even think it, no it has _nothing_ to do with George." She snatched the paper away from him and moved to the grate, grabbing a handful of floo powder. "Hope you have a good day, Ron."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione." He called out as she threw the floo powder into the grate.

"You too," she softly replied before leaving his apartment in a flash and stepping into the teacher's lounge; she immediately banished the soot as her eyes fixed upon the picture and finally moved to the headline and she scoffed. _**"Romance is Swinging in the Air"**_, "So much for not making any headlines this week."

Filius glanced to the fireplace his shoulders sinking at seeing who had emerged, carefully tucking his folded copy of this morning's prophet along his side. "Good morning Hermione," he pleasantly called out causing her head to lift and spot him. At first her eyes portrayed shock and then relief at seeing him.

"You're here rather early this morning," she said while folding the paper back in half, "is everything alright?"

Filius nodded, "I had problems sleeping and didn't wish to wake Pomona. Yourself?"

"I received a note last night from Ron, and opted to answer it first thing this morning." She noticed the Prophet folded along his side, "As you undoubtedly read, I had a rather late evening."

Filius didn't drop his gaze from her, "Cyrus is a good man, but I've always found his stories to be somewhat embellished."

"Not this time," Hermione breathed out as she held the tears at bay.

He sighed, not knowing who he felt sorrier for, Minerva or Hermione. Because while they couldn't be with the other, they were breaking the other's heart at seeming every turn. He only hoped that before the end, they'd find a balance; for both their sakes and everyone else's in between. "You needn't put up a brave front, Hermione. As I know how you feel regarding Minerva and was able to glean that you both had a conversation that did not go as you had hoped. And," he laid his hand atop hers, "as I much as I wished it otherwise between you and she; it was not meant to be."

Tears rushed to the forefront, as she breathed out the awful truth. "She's bound."

Slowly he nodded, "Yes, she is."

She tipped her head back, "When you said," she pulled her hand away and brushed the tears back into her hair as she cleared her throat, not willing to let anymore tears fall, "she could love me, why?" Her voice cracking as she expanded her question, "Why give me false hope?"

Filius let the anger and pain roll over him, meeting her gaze with his eerily steadfast calm. "I answered the question as you asked, and in that context she could love you. In another life, and another time; she undoubtedly would." Golden orbs filled with melancholy, "And for that, Hermione, I _am _sorry."

"Me too…" she breathed, wishing that somehow she had been given an opportunity to love and be loved by Minerva. "I'll see you this afternoon at lunch," she quietly stated and without another word departed the lounge.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

George shucked the covers off himself while grabbing a shirt as he stood and tried not to notice the way his body missed Rory. He slipped the shirt over his head as his visitor knocked again, and he cast a glance to the clock. It was barely seven, and every knock sounded as though it was within his very skull.

"You had better have," he waved his hand to nullify the charms across the door as his right hand grabbed his wand, "damn good reason to be here at seven…" he yanked the door open and felt his breath hitch as his eyes met the welcome physique of his lover.

"I do." Rory crisply replied, "Grab your coat, we need ta go."

"Rory I…"

"Your coat, or your goin' bare chested; we need ta be goin'."

George stared at Rory, unmoving as his weary brain desperately sloshed onward as he tried to process why Rory was here. And he did the only thing he could; he stepped forward and slammed his lips against Rory's. At first there was no response, and then he felt his body melt as Rory's hand grasped his waist, pulling him closer as sure lips and a demanding tongue eagerly plunged into his mouth.

A moan echoed from between them, neither sure who it originated from as hands slid down to their hips and with great effort; Rory yanked himself away. "We need ta be goin' George," he rasped, eyes portraying his feelings. "And while we do need ta talk, I need someone's assistance that I can trust."

"I'm sure it can wait," George reached outward, "because I don't think we can wait much longer."

"I didna come here because of whatever we have between us George, I merely require a second wand for the job."

Anger pulsed through him, "Is that all I am to you, a second wand? Taking a page out of Minerva's book? Use them and lose them?"

Rory's jaw clenched as he desperately tried to keep his own anger in check, "As your theories continue ta be wildly off the mark…"

"Wildly off the mark?" Indignation flashed over George's features, "You're the one who is off base."

"Are ya comin' with me, or shall I see if Hermione can join me?" Rory countered.

George reached backward, summoning his dragon hide cloak and another wave caused his boots to sail to him. "I'm coming with you, and then after…"

"After," Rory's deep brogue lacing the air as he stepped closer to George who stomped his second foot into his boot as Rory's body leaned against his own, "aye, we need ta talk."

"Yes," George breathed as his eyes dropped to Rory's lips, "we do."

"Come, before we aren't of any use and I forget why I did come ta ya." Rory stated stepping backwards.

"Where are we going?" George asked, slipping his coat on as they walked down the hallway to the steps.

"The Forbidden Forest," Rory replied, "Tenien sent word, he needs help."

"And who," George almost crashed into Rory's back as Rory drew to a stop, "is Tenien?"

"One of the leaders within the Centaur council." Rory placed his hand on George's arm, "Just remember, not ta point your wand at any the Centaurs; they aren't very friendly toward wizarding folk."

"How reassuring." He quipped before he felt a ripple of magic sweep over him and the front of his apartment and pseudo-warmth was instantly replaced by the creaking trees and blistering cold Scottish winter.

* * *

Xoxox

* * *

Minerva stepped from her bedroom and smiled at the linen set table, bouquet of roses along with Elgin, Bonnie, and Tily standing beside the table.

"Good morning, Minerva." Bonnie warmly greeted, "We hope you don't mind, but we thought we'd join you this morning."

"What a lovely idea," Minerva stopped beside the solitary place setting, "but I presume you wished to confirm before adding the additional settings?" She subtly shook her head, "You needn't have, as you are always welcome as each of you knows."

Elgin opened his mouth to say something, but Tily replied first. "Of course, but while we did not see anyone on your schedule, we still wished to ask first."

Minerva pulled the chair out, "I'll be at Hogwarts for the day, and other than attending dinner in the Great Hall this evening; my day is relatively free."

The three elves joined her at the table, and as each sat down; a place setting magically appeared in front of them. "Then you will not be seeing the children today?" Bonnie inquired as she removed the napkin from the holder.

"No," Minerva wasn't about to elaborate, however she went ahead and did as she was among some of her most trusted friends, "not today, though, perhaps I shall schedule a dinner this coming week."

"And will you be making time to see Helena and Harold?" Tily followed up as she poured some coffee into Minerva's cup and then her own.

"Thank you, and yes," Minerva answered, her voice becoming softer as she continued, "I'd like to spend as much time as I can with family and friends over the next several weeks."

"Will that be including Hermione?" Bonnie gently inquired, causing any movement at the small table to stop as all eyes fell upon Minerva who was staring resolutely at Bonnie.

Seconds quietly passed before Minerva's thick lilt broke the stillness, "Doubtful, as we have come to an impasse that I do not believe will resolve itself prior to my passing."

"Minerva, I..."

Bonnie's statement was cut off by Elgin this time as he laid his hand atop hers and with a solitary shake of his head before he continued on to Minerva, "If you'se change you'se mind, we will of course be glad to makes accommodations."

"Thank you," Minerva's brogue becoming deeper, coarser as she finished, "that means the world to me."

Tily quickly moved the conversation past the previous topic and to the current epidemic that while not highly publicized was extremely worrisome to the elf population. "Has Helena stated whether the latest trials have seen any breakthroughs?"

"When I saw her last evening, I did not ask; my apologies, Tily. My mind was elsewhere."

Tily nodded, "Understandable, however, have you heard anything since the week before last?"

"I received word three days ago from Roink," Bonnie reached forward to pick up her coffee, "that he has three elves out from symptoms that parallel the contagion. He sent them to have tests run, and as of this morning, it was confirmed."

Elgin's large opalescent eyes widened, "Confirmeded?"

"All three tested positive for the contagion."

"Have there been any notices as to how it's spreading?" Minerva questioned, growing more concerned regarding her diminutive friends.

"Nothing official," Tily replied, "although, unofficially it's spread through contact."

"How arduous will it be to have only one elf receive any external shipments?"

"We'se did that close to a monthed ago." Elgin relayed to Minerva in response. "And Bonnie has been the only ones is to be's going out to places orders."

"Bonnie," Minerva turned to her, "is this true?"

"Yes, Elgin and I have collapsed the orders for your estates' and Hogwarts' to minimize how often I have to leave the grounds and potentially be exposed."

"Who has been receiving the shipments?"

Both Elgin and Bonnie turned to Tily, and she quietly breathed in response, "I receive the shipments and direct them to Hogwarts, the Manor or the Ridge."

"What additional precautions have you implemented?"

"We disinfect the crates and packages before we bring them in, and I wear gloves while taking delivery. And other than Bonnie, Elgin, and you; I have not had any direct contact with any of the other elves until after thirty-six hours have passed."

"Is that how long the contagion takes to begin showing symptoms?"

"We believe so."

Minerva folded her napkin, "I'll speak with Helena immediately to ascertain how widespread…"

Bonnie laid her hand upon Minerva's, "You do not have the energy, Minerva. Nor have we brought it up before now because, there is nothing you can do. Nor do we want you to. And as for Helena, she is not the point healer on this; as she has been rather busy with other crises of late, including you." She said tenderly, "Chrix has been working with Healer McPhearson and her team in conjunction with Quin to find an antidote. They have a partial one, that is keeping the infected alive and not spreading the contagion; but it has not nullified its effects."

"I'se did not realize Quin cames out of retirement." Elgin stated.

"Chrix reached out to him, his health has not been well; but as the most renowned healer who is an elf, he consented." Tily replied.

"You still should have told me the direness of what has been transpiring…"

"We made accommodations," Bonnie squeezed Minerva's hand, "and we'll continue too until they have discovered what the cause is. Until then, we will be as careful as we can, and minimize the elves exposure here and at the Manor along with the Ridge."

Noting the coolness pressing along her flesh, Minerva's eyes fell to Bonnie's hand which lay atop her own and stared at the dainty ring adorning Bonnie's finger. Minerva moved her fingers before Bonnie had time to remove her hand, and with great care, she twisted the ring on Bonnie's small finger. Her brow lifted as her gaze fell to Bonnie's, "Busy or not, I'll still call Helena before you leave and ask her to provide a full report to me by tomorrow morning, namely what the official estimated time is until they have developed an antidote along with how they believe the contagion is spread. As you are all very important to me." Emerald eyes slowly moved around the table before landing again upon Bonnie, "Now, do tell when you received this?" Her fingers moved the ring slightly, "It's beautiful, my dear."

Bonnie's cheeks blushed as her eyes dropped down to the small gold ring with a marquis diamond setting, "This morning."

Tily turned to Elgin, "And you didn't tell me that you finally asked her?"

Elgin opened his mouth to reply and Bonnie wheeled on him, "You told her that you were going to ask for my betrothal?"

Minerva smiled as she leaned back and Tily replied before Elgin had an opportunity, "Of course, he's been trying to get the courage to ask you for the last year."

"Surely you knew my answer would have been yes if you had asked a year ago, why did you take so long?"

"You aren't always the easiest person to get along with Bonnie," Tily continued on and Minerva stifled a laugh as Elgin sighed and was about to interject and thought better of it and instead, met her gaze. Tily and Bonnie continued for another solid three minutes bantering back and forth before he cleared his throat loudly enough to stop them.

"Yes, I'se did speaks to Tily; because I'se love you Bonnie. I have fors decades, and each time I'se believe I have beens ready to ask; our jobs have always intersected and caused us problems. And I'se wasn't goings to asks this time, I was afraids you'd says no's because of the Mistress' health; but Tily told me nots to waits any longer. She'se was right, and I'se can't thank her enough for helping me'se to have the courage to asks you'se."

Bonnie's cheeks flushed even darker as she turned to Tily, "You are a true friend, thank you."

A tender smile passed over Tily's face, "You are most welcome," she reached forward and grabbed her tea cup, "and congratulations."

"Congratulations." Minerva echoed basking in the moment of joviality, which acted like a cool balm to her battered soul.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hermione was surprised to see an owl tapping at her window at just before ten, and with a wave; opened the window to the small creature. A burst of cold wind cut through her chambers before she closed the window, and she couldn't help but shiver from the frozen air. "Who are you from, little guy?" She asked while gently untying the leather strap and uncoiled the small parchment to see her father's unique penmanship.

_Hermione,_

_ Thought you might like to have dinner this evening with the children and I._

_ Dad_

She re-read the note, and found herself quickly responding to her father affirmatively. Because as much as she wanted to mope around the castle and bemoan her current state of affairs, her dad needed her. And if she was honest with herself, she needed him too. Granted, she wished her mom was here to talk to; to help her sort out the mess that now seemed to encompass the whole of her life. But, she _could_ talk to him, it'd just be _different_.

And right now, different didn't seem bad.

In actual point of fact, different seemed rather good. Because, different would mean, not the same – and that would lead away from not only Ron, but Minerva too.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

"Who?" Ron asked his son, confused.

"Máthiar." Hugo repeated resolutely, "Can we's see her today?"

"Who is madiar?"

"Máthiar," Hugo reiterated, "can we's go?"

Ron took a deep breath before trying again, "Once I understand who máthiar is."

Hugo's brows furrowed, "You knows her, buts yous don't likes her so much, dad. I don't know why, because she loves us." Hugo tipped his head to the side, appearing oddly thoughtful, "I tink Máthiar loves you too."

Ron kneeled before Hugo as he racked his brain as to _who_ máthiar was, "Buddy, I don't know who you're talking about."

Hugo's lips pinched as he stared at his dad, "Course you do, it's Merva."

Ron blinked a handful of times as he fully processed what his son was saying, and _who_ his son was referring to.

"Dad?" Hugo stepped closer, tugging on his arm, "So now that you understand who, can we's go's see her?"

"You call…Minerva McGonagall máthiar?"

He nodded proudly, "Yup. Cuz that's what she is, so she's lets me and Rosie call her dat."

"What does máthiar mean?"

"Merva." He replied without thought as he stared at his dad.

"Okay," Ron stated realizing that his son would not be able to give him the answer he sought, and the only thing he would be doing was aggravating his son and himself, "so you call Minerva, máthiar?

"Yup," Hugo said, "so can we's go?"

"I promised your mom that I'd have you back to your grandfather's within the next hour."

"But if we go's to 'Ogwarts now, she can get us back so we's not be lates."

Ron rocked back on his heels and stared at his son's youthful enthusiasm, hope and he sighed, "You really want to see her today?"

Hugo bobbed his head up and down, "It's Heart Day, and she like everyone else needs a hug on Heart's Day. 'speciallee since she's my máthiar."

"If Rose wants to go, we'll…" the word go never made it to his lips as his son tore out of the room.

"Rosie!" He yelled as he leapt from the doorway, "We can go see máthiar! Come on! Grabs yours stuff!"

Ron stared after his son, and after several seconds he stood up; still in moderate shock that his son called Minerva McGonagall, máthiar. Máthiar. A word he had no idea of its meaning, but one that his son had devoutly bestowed upon the Headmistress. The woman whom he wished he could despise and ultimately blame for his current situation, but as much as he wished he could…he couldn't, because she _was _Minerva McGonagall. The woman who had stood up to help Harry time and time again, along with he and Hermione. She had stood silently behind them, guiding and helping them through Hogwarts and ultimately defeating Voldemort. And then after the war, the weight of the wizarding world had rested upon her shoulders as she along with Kingsly stabilized Britain's wizarding community and then defied the odds and had Hogwarts reopened by the first of September.

Both his children came tearing around the corner, backpacks swinging against their shoulders and any further ruminations regarding McGonagall was nullified as he hefted Hugo into his arms and took Rose's hand. "Let's get you both over to Hogwarts, alright?"

Minutes later, they stepped from the grate and out into the Headmistress' office. With a wave of his hand, he banished the soot from both of his children as the portraits muttered amongst themselves and before they could move an inch; two elves appeared before them.

"We's came to see Máthiar." Hugo stated as he peered down at the elves.

Elgin placed his hand on Tily, "They'se allowed as they'se is Professor's children."

"And who are you?" Tily directed to the wizard holding the small child.

"Their father," Minerva's crisp voice answered from the landing above and upon making herself known, Hugo scrambled down from his father darting after his sister up the stairs and into waiting arms. "Hello my lass and little lad," she greeted as she kissed and hugged Rose and Hugo. "What are you both doing here?"

"We's asked dad to brings us here to say Happy Heart day." Hugo stated while leaning against her leg.

"I'm glad you did," she whispered ruffling his hair, while she leaned closer to the banister, "Ronald, please come up," she motioned to the stairs, "and join us."

Ron lifted his hand, "I…ah…thanks McGonagall, but I'm going to head home. If you can just make sure they get back to Carl's by four."

Minerva's fingers curled around the banister as she met blue eyes, wondering what had changed in the last week; but felt her heart ease at seeing the youthful hope she once knew. "I will, and thank you Ronald."

"Just one thing," Ron said with a partial step forward.

"Yes."

"What does máthiar mean?"

Minerva's fingers tightened on the banister as Rose gazed up at her, and Hugo tightened his grip, "In Gaelic it means," she steeled her back as she unflinchingly finished, "mother."

Ron could feel his anger raging through him as his left hand reached out to keep him upright, "Mother?" He icily reiterated.

Minerva had known that at some juncture the man below would learn of his son's panache for calling her máthiar; she had just hoped she wouldn't live to learn about it. Or have to deal with it. Unfortunately, she hadn't outlived it and had to deal with it, now. "Yes."

Blue eyes flashed to his son and then his daughter, "And…was this your suggestion?"

Hugo let go of Minerva's leg and plastered his face against the banister, "It was mine, dad. She didn't want to us to calls her máthiar, but see she is…" he glanced back to his sister and then to his máthiar, and before he could finish Rose's voice cut across the air.

"More than our aunt, but not our mom; and so we decided to call her máthiar." Rose finished by way of explanation.

Ron opened his mouth to rebuke their comments, but the words floundered at his lips at his son and daughter's youthful expressions that were lined with expectation…hope…and as they both glanced up to McGonagall…love. And while his children's expressions and dialogue had momentarily stopped his words; it was McGonagall's look of adoration as she gazed lovingly down upon them that fully stymied the words and for him to merely nod in acknowledgement. "If you can…" he cleared his throat, "just make sure they get to Carl's, I don't fancy another row with 'Mione."

Minerva's grip lessened on the banister as her other hand innately curled around Hugo's shoulder, "I will, and thank you Ronald."

His hand sunk into the floo container, withdrawing the chalky green substance, "Would you mind if I stop in this week?"

"Be safe till then," Minerva replied and his children chorused a warm good-bye before the flames flashed green, and he was gone. Minerva remained unmoving for a solid minute as both Rose and Hugo began animatedly chatting about what they had done today; her thoughts upon the peculiar interaction with Ronald and subsequently his lack luster reaction to learning that his children had taken to calling her máthiar.

She was assured that come their meeting this week; their conversation would be the antithesis of this afternoon's interaction and undoubtedly at times, it would be bordering as uncivilized. And, at the notion of having to engage in such an unpleasant conversation; she found herself actually preferring the company and regular discord that she associated with her own daughter.

"Right Máthiar?" Hugo questioned wide-eyed.

Minerva thought back to the prior statement, and found that her previous thoughts had been far too consuming; "I'm sorry, Hugo; right about what?"

"This Heart's Day has been the best one ever." He said while sliding off his backpack, "Right?"

Minerva shuffled his unruly hair, "Yes, my lad, it is."

Rose pulled a book from her backpack, "Can we read?"

"I…" Minerva was about to reiterate that they didn't have much time, but at Rose's hopeful expression, she found herself acquiescing, "think that is an excellent idea." She motioned Hugo to follow her to the chesterfield, "What book are we reading this afternoon?"

"The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe." Rose answered as she scrambled onto the cushion before glancing up to Minerva, "Have you read that one?"

"I have," Minerva said as she pulled Hugo into her lap and Rose snuggled against her chest as she held the book outright, "many years ago; it is a good book."

"I was hoping…" Rose leaned back to look at her máthiar, "that we could read it together."

Minerva felt heart skip a beat and Rose continued on before she had an opportunity to say a word.

"Grandpa gave me the book this morning, and I…was hoping we could read it." Brown eyes dropped as she quietly finished, "You and me…" she turned to Hugo, and a faint smile passed over her lips as she met her brother's gaze, "and Hugo too. Just the three of us."

"As much as I love the idea Rose, I won't see you both every day. And I don't want you have to wait until we're together for you to be able to finish reading the book."

"But…" Rose twisted around so she could meet her máthiar's warm gaze, "I want to. Because it's like Hugo and me's life with you…" She reached her small hand up, and ran it across Minerva's dark hair, "grandpa said the book's about kids who step through a wardrobe, and into a land of magic."

"You and Hugo are the ones with magic," Minerva leaned over and kissed the top of Hugo's head and then Rose's cheek, "never forget that." She took the book and opened it, shifting the children in her lap and against her side. "How about we start the book, and if you decide to continue to read this with your grandfather; I understand."

"We won't," Rose murmured into the familiar emerald cloth.

"Nope," Hugo agreed as he turned to stare at the page Máthiar stopped upon.

"Why don't you start Rose," Minerva directed, unwilling to comment further for fear of making a hollow promise, which was the last thing she'd do to the lad and lass who had wormed their way into what remained of her heart.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"There's a full cabinet of whiskey in the curio just there," Carl indicated with a tip of his head as Hermione stepped into the living room, having just tucked the children in, "if you could pour a dram and save me the walk, I'd be appreciative."

Hermione pulled a glass from the cabinet along with a bottle of bronze labeled malt, "You didn't tell me how your therapy was going this week." She said while taking off the lid.

"Fair," he answered while shifting in his chair, wishing Jean were here to dive head long into a conversation he didn't know if he should be prying into. "And from your expression as to where the children had been this afternoon, I gather something happened between you and Minerva."

Hermione almost dropped the bottle at her father's summation, and with care set it down next to the glass as she tried to school her features, "I don't know what you mean." She stated with faux calm while pulling another glass from the depths, suddenly feeling _very_ thirsty.

"I may not be your mother, but it doesn't mean that I'm blind Hermione." Carl admonished, "Obviously it didn't involve the children, and as you came here this evening and the children spent some time at Hogwarts; I can deduce the school is alright. So whatever occurred it wasn't related to either of those, which would indicate a discord or…"

"A misunderstanding." Hermione interjected while turning around with a glass in each hand, "And a rather egregious one at that."

Carl took the tumbler from her fingertips, "Your fault or hers?"

She opened her mouth to spout out that it was Minerva's, but instead she found herself shaking her head. "Both, I suppose in our own way."

"Care to elaborate or are you going to sit there and brood."

"I'm not brooding," she rebuked, "and if she hadn't had the children this afternoon you wouldn't have even known."

"You haven't been yourself in well over a week, Hermione. And while you think you have been hiding it, you haven't. At least from me, and probably Harry, Ginny, even Ron would notice if you spent any time with them recently."

Instantly a memory flashed of George sliding into the booth at the Three Broomsticks and she slugged back over half of her drink at how true her father was being. Even though she wish he wasn't being, but he was right – she was not dealing with this as well as she thought she was. And she felt her jaw clench at her own shortcomings; because she should be able to control her emotions like Minerva. It was like the woman could just shut down her emotional index; and it infuriated Hermione that Minerva could do that so easily.

Even to her.

"Damn her," Hermione snapped as she flung the glass at the fire place. The alcohol arcing out of the container and spreading over some of the fire as the glass bounced on a log and then crashed against the side of grate, shattering and the fire momentarily flared to life from the added fuel. "My life made sense, and while I wasn't entirely happy with it; at least it made sense. Now…" She shook her head as her eyes began misting over, "the only thing that does make sense, is everything that didn't use to."

"If being married to Ron made sense, then I for one, am glad that your life no longer does. You already know my feelings regarding Ron, and while he may be a good man, he is not the husband that my daughter needs. He certainly didn't make you happy, at least for the last several years. Even the children realize that; I overheard them this past week hoping that you and he don't reconcile. They don't want you to be unhappy."

"He's safe, he won't hurt the children and…he'll be here for them."

"That's true, but you won't be and therefore after a time, the children won't be happy and neither will Ron."

"It's not my happiness I need to be concerned about, but theirs."

"And it's my job to be concerned about yours." He quietly interjected, "And I can't stand my little girl being unhappy, and if your mother was here she'd tell you the same thing. Life is too short, even for a witch." His eyes crinkled as a sad smile came across his face, "You should never settle, Hermione. Life is too precious." A tear slipped down his cheek and into the light stubble of his beard, "So don't go with what makes sense, is easy, or is safe; for once stop listening to your brain and instead listen to your heart."

Her jaw flexed as she tried to talk but found her throat constricted, and with effort forced the words brokenly from her lips. "She's…dying."

Carl nodded, "Jean inferred as much from their conversation, but what does…" His words trailed off as his daughter's red rimmed eyes latched onto his, despondence lacing her features and he couldn't help but sigh as he breathed a quiet response, "I see."

"She's…" Hermione swallowed back the lump in her throat as she started again, "She's dying and will be dead by this summer's end."

"And you just learned of this?"

"Yes," Hermione rasped, "last Sunday."

Carl leaned forward, "But that isn't what caused the strife between you and she."

Hermione didn't have to reply, her father saw the truth in both her countenance and eyes.

"You told her of your feelings."

Hermione wiped the tears away as she breathed a waspish response, "I asked her if she could love me."

Despite himself, Carl shifted closer almost unable to state what he believed Minerva's response to be. "And she said, no."

"She's bound." Hermione gulped another breathe, knowing that her father would not understand the reference. "She and her husband became bound decades ago; through magic they merge their life force, magic, their entire beings."

"So she's unable to love you." Carl said, feeling dreadful for his daughter.

"She…" Hermione felt her shoulders sink, "was married to Albus Dumbledore."

"The wizard who was the Headmaster when you attended Hogwarts. Did he not die before Jean's and mine's unexpected trip to Australia?"

"He was struck with a killing curse at the end of term my sixth year; his body also having fallen from the astronomy parapet."

"If he and Minerva were bound; and the nature of being bound is as you say, should she not be dead?"

His simple deduction left her momentarily without breath, because she was loathed to even contemplate what would have happened if she _had_ died that fateful night all those years ago…as she was supposed to. "Yes." She whispered in response, "She should be."

"Yet somehow she survived?"

Hermione stood, shaking her head, "Yes." Her voice raising an octave, "She survived. She should be dead, but what does it matter?! She's still bound to him." Her voice became moderately hollow, "A piece of her exists within him and him within her; hence why she is dying."

"And while she should be dead, she isn't." He breathed out a heavy sigh, "And therein lies the problem."

"Her being bound is the problem, not being alive."

"No," Carl stood, "I'd wager that if she hadn't been bound, she'd have died prior to now. The issue with her remaining bound is that she is unable to love you."

Hermione's eyes began to water, "I'm such a fool."

His eyes softened, "You are many things my beautiful daughter, a fool most certainly not being one of them." He stepped closer, holding his arms out and engulfing her in them and pulling her to his chest as he whispered into her hair, "You can't dictate who you fall in love with."

"God, how could I have been so wrong?" she cried into his shirt.

"I don't think you were," Carl murmured pulling back enough to see his daughter's tear streaked face, "I think she does love you." Shock spread over her face as she stared at him mouth agape and he reached forward, cupping her face. "I just don't think she can admit."

"She can't…" Hermione hiccupped as she stared into her father's face, "she loves Albus."

He nodded, "I'm sure she does. She is after all bound to him. But your mother believed, and I think she may have been on to something, that Minerva cares very deeply for you."

"That isn't love." Hermione brokenly uttered.

"Ohh, honey, it is." He replied, feeling heartbroken for his daughter and strangely enough for the woman who had not only saved his life, but at the end of her life found which was undoubtedly forbidden to her. "And while you believe she doesn't love you, I daresay, her actions have spoken to the contrary dozens of times." He pulled her back to him, encasing her in his embrace, "Just don't do something you'll regret while you sort it."

A muffled chortle left her lips as the tears started anew, "I think that it's already too late."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva closed Aegis' journal, disheartened. She turned the journal to the left and right, before flipping it onto her coffee table. "I don't know what in blazes you wanted me to find, but there isna a damn thing in there." She muttered to herself, "And I've read it twice." She stood, wincing as she did while snatching her walking cane; "A bloody waste of time and your life." She sighed and moved towards her office, thoughts still upon the journal. "What am I missing?" She paused halfway down the stairs as she took a deep breath to quell the ache in her hip, "It isna like I have a lot of time Aegis, and you knew that."

She glanced to the portraits, most were otherwise engaged and a few were watching her movements. "I'm going to the Wicket estate, send Elgin if I'm needed."

"Do you think that wise?" Albus asked shifting in his chair.

"I've read his journal twice, and I cannea find anything." She reached into the floo container, "And I have but weeks left to figure it out before I cannot."

"Leave it." Albus pleaded, "Go spend time with the children."

"They are enjoying their own families, as are the Harrison's."

"And Rory?"

"I haven't heard from him since after the Order meeting yesterday, and before you continue please stop. I'm going to the Wicket Estate and will be back later." She snapped her wrist and the floo powder jumped into the flame instantly turning it green. With two strides she was stepping from the fireplace out into the den of the Wicket home.

Instantly Isis appeared, shock lacing her tiny features. "Lady Minerva, this is a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"If you don't mind, I'll be spending most of the evening in the library and also looking through Aegis' bedroom for any other journals or notes that he didn't include with the journal he had you give me."

"Of course," Isis stated, "I'd suggest the library first, until after I've had a chance to lite the fire in the bedroom and it has an opportunity to take the chill from the air."

"That is most thoughtful Isis."

A hint of a smile graced her tiny features, "Would you like any tea or perhaps something a bit stronger this evening?"

"Did Aegis consume all of his father's brandy? Or even transfer it here from his father's estate?"

"While Aegis did drink most of caskets, we still have a few in the cellar."

"I'd love a steep glass if you wouldn't mind opening one."

"If you can give me a few minutes, I'd be happy to bring you one."

"Thank you." Minerva moved to the library, leaning heavily on her cane as she did. The fire on the north side of the room having just been lit and more wood having been placed on the southern fireplace. Her eyes swept over the expanse of the library, before settling on the aged tapestry hanging over the northern fireplace before her. She stepped closer, eyes sweeping over the aged tapestry…or rather…the Wicket's family tree. She scanned the tapestry, names not as vibrant as those upon her family tree; but then again, there didn't appear to be any living persons. She slipped her glasses on, looking at the farthest branches….they were all ashen, white.

"The tree has been dead for almost two centuries." Isis stated appearing beside her as she handed a full glass of brandy to her.

Minerva glanced to Isis and then to the tree, "It won't be forever." She cleared her throat while taking the brandy, "As I believe there remains an heir who will revive the Wicket name."

Isis' eyes widened, "Do you truly believe that?"

Minerva reached out with her left hand tracing the name at the base of the tree, the name that started it all. One F. Flit Wicket who married Meredith and had three children; a pair of paternal twins and a son. "I do." She breathed, "I just don't know how, but when it happens you will discover there is an heir whose name is Elizabeth."

"How do you know this?" Isis asked.

She sighed, "I just do." She murmured as her fingers moved off the tapestry, and she turned back to Isis, "The letter addressed to Genna was written by a friend of mine who lives in this time," Minerva mentally cast off the worries she had regarding Filius and his future, and how it would affect Hogwarts and its future. "Through another source, and completely accidental I was able to confirm that it was my friend who wrote the letter and who at some point will travel back in time and will ultimately become F. Flit Wicket."

"And Elizabeth is a child from this time?"

"He and his wife had two children, however, their son was killed in the first war with Voldemort; their daughter has had a difficult time settling down since her brother's death. She left two years ago and is doing relief work in the East."

Wide green eyes stared at the witch, "You have known Elizabeth for long?"

"Her whole life."

"And her father?"

"Close to sixty-five years, and her mother for almost as long."

"Have they been married for long?"

"They are celebrating their thirty-seventh year this fall, but they have been a couple for another ten years prior."

"Why did they wait so long until they became married?"

"It took a lot of us some time to adapt to life after the war with Grindlewald."

"And from your reaction when you read the letter, you had hoped it wasn't him; because of what that would mean to your friendship but also his family here."

"Yes." Minerva softly answered, "And I still do."

"I promise we will take care of both his daughter and wife when it becomes apparent who they are."

"I have no doubt, Isis. But please know that until he goes into the past, I will not divulge who he or his family is."

Slowly Isis nodded, "I'd expect nothing less." She cleared her throat, "Thank you for the insight and a little bit of hope."

Minerva raised her glass, "And you for the brandy."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George barely stepped into Rory's home, the air only marginally warmer than that on the other side of the door. "Damn Rory, it's next to freezing in here."

"Aye, it's a bit nippy," Rory agreed as the sconces sprung to life and he moved over to the hearth and with a flick, a fire sprang to life. "Give me a moment to start a few more fires throughout the house."

George ran his hands up and down his arm while stepping closer to the hearth hoping to regain a semblance of feeling in his fingers again. He heard Rory moving through the house before solid footsteps came closer and he turned to see Rory stripping off his black cloak; a white wool tunic hanging loosely about his shoulders and stopping at the belt line along his kilt. "You're beautiful." George breathed as his eyes raked over Rory's lean waist and broad shoulders.

"And while I missed ya more than words can say, we need ta talk George." He walked the half dozen steps to his liquor cabinet, grabbing two tumblers and a fifth. "Before there is nah we."

"Look Rory, you are friends with McG and I can respect that but I can't respect what she did to Hermione."

"Aye, that's one thing we need ta discuss," Rory set the glasses down, "because ya are wrong 'bout what is happening between Hermione and Minerva. The second is 'bout us, and your family."

George's back bristled, "Rory I don't…"

Rory grabbed George's arm to prevent him from stepping away, "We do this George, or we are done."

Fire sparked in blue eyes, "What? An ultimatum? Are you kidding me?"

"Nah an ultimatum, the truth George. One I've gotta have, especially between us."

"I can't tell my family, Rory." He rasped, tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm not ready."

Rory's hand dropped away from George's arm, as he shook his head and jaw flexed, "I'm sorry ta, luv."

"Rory, don't…"

Tears brimmed along grey eyes, "Ya can stay the night, but ya need ta leave in the morning, George." He stepped backwards away from the table, "Ya won't be able ta navigate the area tanight, so please stay luv."

"Just give me time." George breathed trying to step closer.

"Ya are suppose ta be a Gryffindor George, and what I saw yesterday; wasna that of a Gryffindor. But your actions did hurt the one person I luv without reservation, and created a greater divide between Hermione and Minerva. Because while ya believe Minerva led Hermione on, ya are wrong. She remains bound to Albus, and that is what is killing her."

"Hermione told me."

"Aye, but what Hermione doesna know and canna, is that despite being bound to Albus she has fallen in love with her."

George's comment died in his throat at Rory's utterance, leaving his mouth agape and mind devoid of any further rebuttal.

"She made me along with Helena and Harold promise not ta divulge the truth, and as difficult as it is, you canna either."

"You have to tell her." George rasped in disbelief, "She is utterly heartbroken and believes that Minerva doesn't…." He stumbled backwards, body numbly landing on the edge of the chesterfield as he shook his head, "love her."

"Aye, I know, and it breaks my heart too. But its Minerva's wishes, and she doesna want to desecrate her vows ta Albus."

"Hermione's never going to forgive her."

"Hermione's never ta know," Rory met George's stricken face, "ever." He turned around and started walking back to his bedroom.

"Rory…I…didn't know."

The elder wizard stopped at the door, hand upon the frame, "The spare is made up; goodnight luv."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Godric stepped from his primary frame and into the living room, "You asked to be notified when Minerva returned."

"Thank you," Hermione stated as she stood.

"I don't think that tonight…" his words fell on deaf ears as Hermione was already striding through the study and door, and at once he shimmered and re-entered his frame in the Headmistress' office. He met the other founder's gaze, and subtly shook his head. They didn't have to wait long, and they heard the gargoyle activate; all eyes moved to the living suite, breaths collectively held as they awaited the outcome.

Which…wasn't long in the making.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva gripped the sink's edge with her left hand, her right carefully withdrawing the last of her hair pins until long rivulets of her hair cascaded downwards and the weight upon her neck eased.

With effort, Minerva lifted her gaze and sighed at the tired, haunted countenance reflected back at her – it was a face she barely recognized as her own. With tired hands but sure strokes, Minerva warily removed the makeup she had applied along with the scant glamour charm revealing even darker circles beneath washed out eyes and pale skin.

"Not that it really matters," she chided herself as she stepped away from the sink in borderline disgust and apathy with her looming death; barely remaining upright as the room jilted again. She paused at the door frame, eyes casting back to her mirror and the cabinet of small elixers housed within it; but she thought better of it. She'd take a dram when she woke in a scant few hours, because she was feeling entirely too good to dampen the brandy's effect right now. And who knew, perhaps it would aide her in sleeping an extra hour or two.

With little grace, she maneuvered back into her bedroom and within short order; she was resting against the edge of her bed, fingers fumbling over the muggle fasteners as a stream of Gaelic curses flew from her mouth in frustration until she fell back on her bed in defeat. Her eyes drifting close no longer caring if she shed her robes, as they'd still be there later when she had to get up to take a draught to counteract the headache and hangover she was assured she'd feel.

Because she had drank far too much.

Even by her standards.

With the last of her energy she pulled her legs onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to her as sleep swam before her consciousness while the last of her scattered thoughts touched upon Aegis, his estates, how Filius would somehow be leaving this time and she would lose another friend to a life and world no one could imagine, how it seemed certain that Johannes would remain alive despite her staunch attempts otherwise and what that would mean for her children, their family and her dearest friends…and Hermione. A soft sign eschewed forth as the first tendrils of sleep wove through Minerva's body, but Hogwarts magic lightly pulsed causing Minerva's eyes to hazily blink as her muttered thoughts tried to focus past the overbearing need to close her eyes again.

She was so tired.

But she pushed herself upright after a solid second of trying to ascertain why she had felt Hogwarts, it had been the charm upon the gargoyle lift; as she faintly heard the grinding stone as the lift ascended.

"I'm sure it can wait," Albus stated as he felt his wife's sense of duty propel her wearily from their bed as she adorned her glasses.

"The gargoyle will only let the professors up this late." She replied as she staggered outward, pausing at her wardrobe to withdraw a heavy silken robe.

"Don't…"

Minerva glanced to her husband, hand already raised; and he sighed as she ground her teeth and waved her hand in a wave. At once her layers of damnable muggle robes transfigured into her standard sleep ware as a moan of discomfort left her lips. Without further commentary, knowing it was futile, especially this evening; Albus watched as his wife slipped on her heavy silken robe and tied it about her waist, before slowly making her way out of their room – hand trailing along the wall to enable her to keep her balance.

Minerva opened the door to her living suite, expecting to see Marx or perhaps Clemons or even Poppy; but certainly not Hermione.

She gripped the door frame tighter as she blinked to ensure she was truly seeing her and that Hermione was not an apparition.

However as the seconds ticked by, it was hard for Minerva to tell; as Hermione was returning her shocked gaze as if she was transposing her thoughts and undoubtedly her facial expressions on Hermione's visage. Until finally Minerva's brain realized that the woman was in fact there; and she was either there for a reason pertaining to Hogwarts or…for a reason that Minerva didn't dare contemplate – but ultimately having to do with Angelina. "Can I help you Hermione?" Minerva's brogue was thick and deep as it rippled between them.

Hermione finally blinked, mind still cataloguing the way _her_ robe loosely fell about her frame; the soft lines of her exposed calves; the long rivulets of hair sweeping around her jaw, face and over her shoulders as golden frames shielded her normally piercing green eyes and undoubtedly the extent of the darkened circles beneath her eyes. "I wanted to speak with you about last night." Hermione had known the ensuing conversation was going to be awkward, but she had wanted to tell her that it was not as it seemed; and that she in fact cared for her. Loved her.

Minerva's stomach dropped, but her mind immediately overrode any other feelings as she relayed what she needed to. Because she had sworn to herself she'd be supportive even if it was going to kill her. "There is nothing to say my dear. I am happy for both you and Angelina."

Hermione felt the words she had been intent to say die on her lips at Minerva's remark, the moment feeling surreal. Because Minerva seemed…sincere. And if Minerva was sincere regarding her well wishes in regards to she and Angelina, then how could she have believed Minerva cared for her. A mix of shame and self-loathing pulsed through her at her own foolish beliefs in regards to how she thought Minerva cared for her too.

Minerva shook her head, "Good night." She breathed and turned back to her bedroom.

But Hermione stepped forward, unwilling to let Minerva believe that she was with Angelina. Even though she knew Minerva didn't feel the same way, it was important for her to understand that she did care for her. "Minerva…nothing happened between Angelina and I."

The elder witch paused by the door, leaning heavily against the door frame, "I think it is for the best Hermione that you leave."

"Not until you hear what I came here to say." Hermione countered bringing herself closer.

Minerva's didn't move, her knuckles turning white as she coolly responded, "If it is not pertaining to Hogwarts then please see yourself out."

"I thought you were happy for me?" Hermione snapped as she grabbed Minerva's shoulder, "Or is it that you feel something for me and…"

Minerva spun around, their proximity causing Hermione's voice to falter. "I'm bound," she harrowingly breathed in the scant space between them, "and dying."

"Yes," Hermione murmured, "but yet you feel something for me," she leaned closer and could feel the warmth emanating from Minerva's body and suddenly a hand splayed across the center of her chest, resting across her breastbone pushing her backwards as milky cheeks flushed rose.

"Feel something?!" Minerva snapped, anger coursing through her veins as the alcohol stifled the last of her inhibitions. "How could I feel something for a woman, who less than twenty four hours ago smelled of another person?"

"I told you…"

"Nothing happened." Minerva caustically stated, "Except it did. And while you may be ashamed of your liaison with Angelina…"

"Ashamed!?" Hermione lashed out in retaliation, no longer able to hear anymore. "I have _**nothing**_ to be ashamed of! Except of following my heart!"

"And following your heart ensues that you lie about…"

"Lie!" Hermione shook her head as tears began to swell and drip off her lashes in hurt and anger, "If that is what you believe..." Her voice broke as she continued on, "Fine. You're right, I didn't just dance with Angelina; I fucked her…"

Minerva's nostrils flared as her voice thundered, "Leave!"

"And I liked it." Hermione finished before turning and striding to the gargoyle, slamming the door open and when she turned she felt the air leave her lungs as cold emerald eyes met her caustic gaze, undeterred and face devoid of emotion. Their gazes remained locked for a heartbeat before Minerva lifted her hand, and with a wave the door slammed closed breaking their connection.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Till next time…_


	110. Chapter 105 February 20th, 2010

_a/n: Yes, what you saw in your inbox was truly not your imagination. Two updates in two days (couldn't sleep last night…). _

**Chapter 105 ~ February 20****th****, 2010 (Saturday)**

The mornings rays sparkled an array of rainbow colors as it struck the ice cycles dangling from the spouting, bathing Ron in a warm glow as he sipped the steaming cup of coffee, "I don't know if I'm well with it; but after speaking with her, I don't want to have the children stop."

Harry momentarily hid his shock at his best mate's suddenly level headed approach as he took a sip of tea, "Have they been calling her that for long?"

"Since just before 'Mione's mom passed." Ron shifted in his chair, "Seems Hermione started to learn Gaelic, and the children have been picking it up. They were visiting McGonogall one afternoon and asked her if they could start calling her máthiar versus Aunt Minerva."

"I'm surprised she agreed." Ginny said as she slowly walked into the kitchen, Ron stood as she entered.

"Here," he shifted the chair closer, while stepping around to the other chair as Harry poured her a glass of coffee.

"I'm not," Harry countered, "she's always been fabulous with our children and as Hermione has had Rose and Hugo at Hogwarts every other week; I'm sure they had an opportunity to forge a close bond with Minerva."

Ginny nodded, "They were calling her Aunt Minerva versus Aunt McGonagall back in September; as Sirius was upset he still had to call her Aunt McGonagall when Rose and Hugo didn't. But to call her mother in Gaelic…and Hermione is alright with it?"

"I wrote her Sunday night asking, and she merely replied yes." Ron said trying to shake the ear splitting argument he had with her last evening, "Speaking of, do either of you know if something happened this last week with 'Mione?"

Harry and Ginny shared a questioning look and then turned back to Ron, "Other than her date with Angelina, no." Harry braced himself as asked the next obvious question, "Why?"

"She and I had a bit of a row last Sunday…"

Ginny's lips turned down, "Dammit Ron, you swore you were going to watch your mouth."

He held up his hands, "And I did, well mostly. I even took Rose and Hugo, which she was really peeved about because I _was_ taking them, and she about bit my head off last night when I said I'd watch them this weekend too. I figured she…" his ears turned a soft shade of pink, "well, she might want to go out with Angelina."

Harry was twirling his cup, gazing pensively at the liquid as he debated on sharing his thoughts, "I don't think she has or at least had any desire to go out with Angelina. I think that she agreed to go out with her to help George save face, about what, or more importantly – in regards to whom, I don't know." Harry lifted his eyes to meet Ron's, "I spoke to Hermione after she and Angelina went out last fall, and she said that while they had a good time, it was merely as a friend and that is all she was to her."

"Then her going out dancing and everything in the Prophet…"

"A by-product of her consenting to go out with Angelina."

"George is in so deep with her if that is the case," Ginny remarked as she levitated the carafe of coffee to her. "But then why go through with it if it wasn't real?"

Harry shrugged, "Probably because she didn't want to hurt Angelina."

"I'll ask…"

Both Ginny and Harry uttered their response in stereo, "No."

"What?" Ron questioned looking shocked at their answer.

"You won't ask Hermione," Ginny elaborated, "because if it was a ruse to help George; we are all going to let it lay."

"Easy for you to say as she isn't biting off your head." Ron quipped.

"Yeah, well, you deserve it and a few more head chewings for how you've been towards her and McGonagall lately." Ginny replied.

"Especially Minerva," Harry reiterated, "I'm surprised she hasn't hexed you into next year."

"Actually figured she was going to when I showed up Wednesday to talk with her about Rose and Hugo, but I don't think she felt well."

Concern immediately flared in Harry's eyes at Ron's statement, "What do you mean, you don't think she felt well?"

Ron glanced to Ginny and then to his brother-in-law, "Well you saw her last Saturday, and how she looked a bit pale." Harry nodded, "Well, she looked you know…worse."

Harry opened his mouth, but Ginny laid her hand atop his and turned to her brother. "You think you can be a bit more descriptive? As McGonagall is always pale and she lost a bit of weight this year undoubtedly from the stress."

"I think she's lost more weight since last weekend, but it's hard to tell with the robes she wears. And she was paler than usual…" He paused while continuing to think back, "actually, one thing I did note that was odd, her hair wasn't pulled up, rather it laid braided down her back." Absently he picked up a piece of Danish as he continued on, "But figured she didn't have time to you know, put it up."

Ginny pursed her lips at the depths of his daftness at times, "She's a witch," she snapped, "how long do you think it takes her to put her hair up?"

* * *

oxox

* * *

Audrey tiredly ran a hand through her hair no longer able to listen to her sister-in-law anymore, "Stop. Just…stop." She sighed as her husband and his sister turned to her, "It doesn't matter whose right or wrong, because the simple fact is that mother isn't well. So to belabor the point anymore is futile and I refuse, because it isn't constructive. We can all see it. She's lost even more weight, I doubt she weighs more than 8 stone with her robes on. She's gaunt, pale and I cannot imagine how dark the circles are beneath her eyes if we can see that she has them. Add into the fact that she's greying along her left temple, and she can barely stand. We've known that she wasn't well, but it seems that it is affecting her physically too. Have either of you spoken to her about how much time she truly has left this past week?"

"I tried on Thursday," Tessa said shocking both of the other occupants, "and even asked without getting into it with her." She elaborated to their further disbelief, "She said she has enough time and that was the end of the discussion. She would not talk about it anymore, and when I asked Helena, she stopped me cold."

"I tried to speak with Rory on Wednesday, and he was downright cranky and unseemly short." Percival stated, "I know he and mother are like siblings, but I think there was something else going on with him when we spoke."

"You don't think something happened between he and his lover?" Audrey asked in a hushed whisper, "Or that Mother's failing health has caused strife between them."

"It isn't as though either one is exceptionally forthcoming." Tessa heard John's gurgling cry, "I'll get him," she moved to leave the room as Percival continued on loud enough for her to hear him.

"No, and Helena isn't either."

"Do you think Jordan has managed to garner anymore information out of her parents than what they've shared with us?" Tessa asked, her voice drawing nearer as she finished.

"I doubt she knows as much as we do, but I'll ask after the Order meeting." Percival stated as Tessa entered with a bundle ensconced in her arms.

"Then you're going?" Audrey questioned.

"I'll only be gone for the meeting and then to go speak to Jordan."

"I can go after the meeting," Tessa said while handing John to Audrey, "let you come back and relieve Audrey so she can get a few hours of sleep between feedings."

Percival's brow creased, "Alright, you sure?"

"Yeah, and I'll stop back after I see Jordan before returning to the Ridge." Tessa easily read Percival's doubt, "Look, I haven't always been on the best terms with mother; but something has changed this week, noticeably so. Which is not like mother at all, she'd never let us see her looking so...vulnerable."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Don't." Pomona said leaning over the table her husband sat at, "Because I know you know what is going on between them, and Merlin, Minerva has gone from looking haggard to downright awful since their falling out, discord or whatever happened. Not that anyone save for you, I, Poppy or the family has seen her. It's as if she's given up or rather stopped trying to hide how poorly she is doing, and that is many things…except like the woman we both know. So, what happened?"

A soul-filled sorrow laced his eyes, "It seems that our dear professor has fallen in love with our esteemed Headmistress."

Her eyes grew to the size of a saucer as she stumbled backwards, stunned. "Ohh dear heavens." Her hand coming to her chest, "Did she tell her?" She gasped in realization as she answered her own question, "She did, didn't she?"

"I don't know, I only know they spoke two weeks ago and then seemed to have found a semblance of common ground until..."

"last weekend." They finished together and Pomona softly continued on, "Her date with Angelina. You don't think…dear heavens, Filius…you don't think that Minerva loves her too do you?"

Tear filled eyes met hers as he quietly answered the only way he could, "Yes, I do."

"But you said she's still bound to Albus."

"She is."

"For the love of dirt, do not joke with me Filius. Is that even possible?"

"According to everything I know and have read, no."

"Then how…."

Filius laid his hand upon hers, "I don't know, honey. I can only surmise and it'd be based on facts that I do not have and certainly do not want to obtain."

She sighed, shoulders sinking at the gravity of what he was saying; but the portkey on the table beeped indicating that the meeting was about to begin.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Kane peered about the room, noting that several of the Order members appeared the worse for wear today. Helena and Harold appeared gaunt, tired and her eyes appeared fixed not upon the speaker but of persons or rather one singular person, Hermione Granger. Harry was doing a yeoman's job of appearing as though he was listening to whomever was speaking, yet his gaze seemed fixed upon Minerva. Percival and Tessa both kept looking at their mother, barely concealed concern flashing across their faces. The red headed man, he believed was named George; looked utterly deplorable…gone was his usual vivaciousness and zeal for life, in its place there seemed to be a morbid hollowness as he gazed sorrowfully at Hermione.

Obviously something was amiss, and from the way the aforementioned and the remainder of the room seemed to be focused on the two separate women; he took a moment to gaze at each one beginning with Hermione.

She was alluringly beautiful; although her thick main of chestnut hair was bordering on wild as if her haphazard attempt to brush it had not been successful to tame it. Her visage appeared haggard, eyes sunken in and irises bordering on dull. And he couldn't help but wonder what had happened that caused her to actively avoid looking at Minerva; as she would look anywhere else, but at the woman whom she had stoutly advocated for his assistance to help save less than two months ago. He paused in his assessment until a few people shifted and he was able to take in a deep breath, letting the scents wash over him as he tried to ascertain any additional relevant information…but there were too many people in conjunction with the overpowering scent of fear.

Fear?

Brown eyes narrowed as he gazed about, trying to pinpoint _who_ was afraid. Deathly so. But he couldn't, and it wasn't stemming from the immediate persons on either side; leaving him to wander who it was.

However, his musing were waylaid as Minerva began relaying that Aegis had left a journal in her possession and that she hoped it would lead to a stronghold….and his attention momentarily wavered upon the topic as he became engrossed on the person.

For he knew her well. Had apprenticed under her for years, he couldn't help but think that she was someone else entirely.

Yes, she still had the same overall appearance; she stood just over one and a half meters tall. She held herself with the same timeless elegance and comported herself with endless grace; but everything else seemed…off. It was as if, he was watching her conduct a performance; a flawless one, but a performance nonetheless. Everything was just a little too….something. He could see that she had lost another stone, and that she wasn't using a glamour to cover how dark her circles were but a sub-dermal charm spell combined with muggle makeup. At that notion, he sat up straighter suddenly exceptionally concerned for her welfare.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Not this evening," Minerva relayed to her faithful companion, "as I'm going to the Manor after dinner."

"I shalls inform Bonnie, but Master Percival was quite insistent."

She withdrew a satchel from the inner part of her wardrobe, "As I'm sure Tessa shall be shortly, but I would like the evening to myself."

"Then you'se wish everyone to believe that you'se remained at Hogwarts this evening?"

"I do," she replied while placing a handful of sheaves of parchment she had brought from Aegis' into her bag.

"Very well. And what of the professors?"

She gazed over the rims of her glasses, "I'll tell Filius at dinner, otherwise, no one else."

"Even Blondies?"

Minerva's gaze was about to drop but held fast, "Even her, as…" she cleared her throat, "I've made plans for the next four nights, and if I am to believe Adam, Helena and my father; I shan't have a fifth. So, I'd like a night to myself Elgin."

Tears blurred his vision as he nodded, "I'se ensures you'se not bothered unless you'se family or friends is in peril."

A faint smile along with pure gratitude passed across her features, "Thank you, Elgin."

"You'se is most welcome, Minerva."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Harold lunged forward, grasping the edge of Helena's cloak. "Don't…"

"Then bring her here."

"She's within Hogwarts," he replied, "I cannot as you well know."

"And I can't do this anymore, Harold." He could feel her despondence, one that mirrored his own as she continued on. "We've seen her four times this week and with each passing day, she is doing worse."

"You said she'd die on the 25th," Harold countered.

"Not of a broken heart."

"Dammit Helena," he grasped her hand along with his cloak as he stormed out of their home, wand in hand as he summoned a vortex. "You can't, as you gave her your word."

She took his hand and stepped forward, "That's why you're coming with me."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Bonnie watched as Minerva eased onto the chesterfield in the library, and how unlike earlier, her face now portrayed how badly her hip was truly bothering her.

She waited until Minerva was situated, a book and sheaves of parchment scattered around her as the fireplace crackled in defiance of its age throwing off both heat and flickering light. A partially filled tumbler rested on the coffee table, alongside of an empty small bottle of 1820 gold malt; and Bonnie blinked away to start the fire within the residence.

With little effort, the fire burst to life; and she was about to return to her duties, but paused as her eyes gazed about the sparse furnishings and warm colors trying to momentarily imagine how different life would have been had Minerva lived at the Manor her whole life.

Shaking her head at her nonsensical musings, she snapped her fingers; and the room dissolved but unfortunately the dread swallowing her stomach didn't.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Helena swept up the back staircases, Harold quietly striding beside her as the shifting staircases eventually brought them to the seventh floor. Helena narrowed her eyes as she tried to ascertain which direction she needed to go, but at feeling a wave of certainty along with a guiding hand, she began following Harold.

He quickly led them toward the central staircase and then stopped, Helena smiling as she recognized the familiar landscape of Godric's portrait.

"Good evening Godric," Harold rumbled, causing the portrait to stir and subsequently eyes widen in shock at who was standing before him. "We are here to see Professor Granger."

"This is most unusual Mr. Harrison. If you have Hogwarts business, it is to be conducted in the Headmistress office during normal…"

"This isn't about Samantha or Hogwarts, Godric." Helena stepped closer, "Rather our friend, who happens to also be the Headmistress."

"I cannot," Godric rasped wishing he could assist the couple before him, "as you do not fall under the portraits prevue to rouse its occupant."

"True," Helena replied, "but if I state the password, do you not have to open?"

Godric's eyes widened, "Yes, but…"

"Then imagine we just uttered it," she stated, "as you know who I am and who my husband is. We do not mean Hermione harm, but we do need to speak with her to…shall we say clear the air between she and Minerva before Minerva passes later this week." Seconds passed and Godric remained unmoving, and Helena reached up and pulled her glasses away from her face. "Please Godric. I wouldn't be here if we had more time and another way to speak with her."

"Tell me something that only you'd know, Helena."

"You saw me kiss Phillip Templeton."

Godric chuckled as the latch clicked, "You both have my best wishes and most heartfelt hopes."

Helena took a deep breath as she reached for the door, "Thank you Godric."

"Just remember that if she asks, her password is SPEW."

Harold and Helena glanced to each other as they mouthed the word in confusion, 'spew?'

Godric nodded as he softly replied, "Yes."

With a slight tilt of her head to acknowledge Godric's statement, she opened the door. "Hermione." She called out as Harold stepped through the door too.

"Hello?" Hermione called out as she quickly walked through her quarters in confusion, "Who's there?"

"Harold and Helena." Helena stated as Hermione rounded the corner from her living room to her den/sitting room with her wand out.

"What…" she lowered her wand as worry instantly flashed over her features, "Is everyone alright?"

"Yes," Helena answered, "everyone's fine; however, we just needed to speak with you and didn't have an opportunity after the Order meeting."

"I…ahhh," Hermione glanced back to her living room and then to the Harrisons, "why don't you come in." She moved away from the wall, "Would either of you like some tea?"

"Actually, I brought a bottle of malt," Harold stated pulling a bottle from his cloak causing Helena's brows to furrow, "if you have some glasses, I'd be willing to share."

"When did you have time to grab that?" Helena questioned as she undid her cloak.

"Magic," he quipped as he wrapped his arm around her waist, "and I figured we'd need it," he whispered against her jaw before kissing the corner of her lips.

Hermione set two tumblers onto the coffee table, "Is this about Samantha's fall at Friday's practice?"

"No," Harold answered as he internally quelled Helena's concern, "you sure you don't want a glass?"

"I think I'll stick with the tea, but thank you." Hermione stated sitting across from Helena and Harold more curious than ever as to why they were here.

Helena gazed at Harold, her resolve momentarily faltering at what she was about to do. But then she felt a burst of warmth and strength sweep through her, and she peered lovingly into his eyes. With new assuredness, she turned back to Hermione, "I'm sure you are wondering why we are here."

"The thought did cross my mind, because while I enjoy both of your company; showing up on my doorstep at Hogwarts is a bit of a surprise."

"For that, I am sorry." Helena said with a feigned smile, "But as you will learn, we've…well…" her smile faltered as her voice shook a bit, "we've run out of time."

The hairs on the back of her neck were instantly standing on end at both the sudden tremor in Helena's voice and the context of her statement causing her to lean incrementally forward, "What do you mean about running out of time?"

"Well…not so much that we've run out of time….rather…" she found her throat unresponsive, but years of patients' notifications helped her overcome her sudden difficulty. "Rather…Minerva has."

Hermione felt as if she'd just been struck with the crucio; her body was on fire and she couldn't breathe as tears instantly blurred her vision. "What do you mean…that Minerva has run out of time?"

"While important," Helena steeled her nerves, "there's one thing I'd like to discuss first."

Hermione shook her head, "What could be more important," voice rising an octave as she continued on, "than Minerva's welfare?"

"Your love for her." Helena replied with little fanfare.

"Excuse me?" Hermione rasped in shock.

Helena's lips pursed in a half smile as gentle blue eyes gazed across the table, "You love my best friend."

"I…did Filius tell you?"

"No."

"Then how'd you…you know, know?"

"Because…" her eyes softened, "I've had the pleasure of badgering Minerva regarding you for the past several months."

Hermione looked askance, "Badger Minerva about what?"

"For her to tell you how she felt."

Lips pinched as she stood up from the chesterfield, "You know what, it's been great, but I think I've had enough. Why don't you both show yourself out? Because, as much as I want to help Minerva, I've heard all I can regarding how she feels."

Helena splayed her hand across Harold's thigh to keep him seated as she gazed up at Hermione, "Truly, Hermione?"

"Look…" her eyes glistened, "can you both leave? I know you care for her, and everything, but it is better if you both leave well enough alone."

"I can't."

"Helena," her voice climbed proportionally in pitch, "this…just leave!"

"No," Helena answered resolutely, "not until you let me finish."

Hermione's jaw flexed as her eyes misted over, "You have a minute," she growled as she braced herself along the back of the chesterfield wanting to get this over with this as soon as possible.

"Don't," Harold whispered to his wife, "you promised."

"So after you've barged into my home, disrupted my evening, you are now telling Helena not to tell me?!" She stepped angrily around the chesterfield to close the distance between them.

Blue eyes flashed in anger, "That's because I will not let her break her promise to her dearest friend who is dying."

"Then why come up here!"

"Harold dear…" Helena laid her hand on his upper arm, "Hermione, she loves you."

"I…what?!"

"She loves you." Helena quietly repeated as brown eyes widened further at her statement.

"That's…not possible." Hermione breathed as her legs suddenly felt weak. "She's bound. She said so…repeatedly. And if she's bound…she can't. She…" Despite her best efforts, Hermione felt the chesterfield impact the back of her legs as she continued mumbling disjointed thoughts, "She can't…it's impossible for her…she's bound."

"Yes she remains bound to Albus."

Hermione couldn't utter a word as she tried to process what Helena was saying, the disbelieving notion that Minerva loved her. It was too good to be true, to know that the woman she had fallen hopelessly in love with also loved her. "Are you sure?" Hermione finally managed, "I mean, it's impossible and she's bound and….when I asked her if she could love me, she said she couldn't. So, I just don't know…as she is bound to Albus so how could she possibly love me?"

"Despite her every effort, she has fallen in love with you."

"But she said she didn't love me."

"If memory serves from my conversation two weeks ago, when you asked her if she loved you; she replied that she was sorry. And she really was sorry, that she couldn't tell you that she loved you."

"Why can't she tell me?"

"She believes acting on her feelings or verbalizing them would desecrate her vows to Albus, whom she is bound and therefore still married to."

"You mean that her intent is…was to never tell me how she felt?"

"Or for you to learn of it from either of us or Rory. She didn't want you regret or miss out at a chance of love with someone who could love you back as she felt she could not."

Hermione absently reached over and poured a steep amount of whisky into her tea cup, "So….she loves me, but won't tell me because she is bound to Albus. And you are both telling me this why? So I can confess my feelings to her and for her not to admit her own again?" She shook her head, "I can't. I won't. I mean…maybe in a month or two when things calm down between us, and we're talking again I'll broach the subject. But right now, there is just…too much between us."

"We don't know what has happened these past two weeks Hermione, other than there has obviously been a discord between you. But you need to find a way to put it to rest this week."

"This week?" She scoffed, "Are you insane? She thinks I slept with Angelina." She shook her head at the surrealness of her situation, "And after everything…I let her believe it," she whispered in shame before she cleared her throat and finished, "There is no way…she won't listen to me and I am not ready to see her. As I said, perhaps in a month or so."

Harold's deep baritone voice sliced through the air. "She won't be alive in a month, Hermione."

"What…? What do you mean she won't be alive in a month? She said the start of next year's term…"

"That was months ago," Helena whispered, "and several magical expenditures prior."

"You mean…when she uses her magic, it…expedites…" Hermione's eyes began growing wider as image after image of Minerva's crumpled form took shape, each one slightly more severe than the previous, "noooo…" she breathed in disbelief. "That can't be."

"Her bond to Hogwarts somehow kept her alive when Albus passed," Harold began, "however, her bond to him is also subsequently killing her, as he is dead. Each time she uses any substantial amount of magic, it depletes her magical core and brings her that much closer to her own death."

"That's why she needed assistance…"

"I asked her to take one of her children, and then suggested Rory and ultimately she chose you." Helena elaborated, "As her core was already half of what it was at the onset of this year. As she began losing magic, it was a quarter a percent and then a half…it has been slowly building over time until now…" Helena didn't finish, her voice trailing off.

"Now what?" Hermione gasped, "She has twenty percent of her core? Ten? Dear God, why in heavens name didn't she retire? She'd be alive for years. She works at Hogwarts and uses magic everyday…"

"She is finally retiring," Helena sadly relayed, "albeit not as I envisioned it, nor how I asked for her to. As for her core, she has almost no magic left Hermione. Any large amount cast at this point will…" her voice breaking as she finished, "kill her."

"Almost no magic…" Hermione reiterated, "but how is she able to cast warding spells and things for Hogwarts if she has no magic?"

"It's Hogwarts magic dear, not her own magic."

"Define almost no magic, Helena."

"Less than two percent." Harold answered, "Which only the three of us now know how severe it is."

"You mean…even her children don't realize how…" Hermione's hand shakily lifted to her lips, "but they know she is dying?"

"They believe she'll make it until the end of this term year." Harold admitted, "And Minerva would prefer to leave it as such, as she had hoped to resolve the situation with Harkiss before her death."

"But now with her magic so low, she doesn't believe…or, is that why you are both here? She has discovered something that will lead her to find Harkiss this week, and you want me to reconcile so I'll go with her and can relay the information to you so you can…"

"No, Hermione." Helena quietly interjected, "She hasn't shared any plans with regards to Johannes nor do I believe she has discovered any new information from Aegis' journals. My coming here this evening has little to do with Johannes, and far more to do with arthimancy."

Hermione blinked, mouth agape as she processed Helena's outlandish statement. "Arthimancy?" Voice portraying her skepticism.

"Yes," Harold stated as he opened the palm of his hand and a small journal took shape, "as Helena has become rather adept in the discipline over the years."

"Arthimancy? Really?" She turned to Helena, who was adorning her glasses. "I'd have thought potions, gardening, but arthimancy…I can't say that I see the allure."

"The why is not important." Helena replied while opening her journal, "But the when is exceptionally pertinent. As I've calculated the variables thousands of times, using formulas that I discovered were imbedded in her father's journals and they have tied out to the same date as Meric's bloody journal, even Adam Brunt came to the same conclusion this past fall." She stopped and spun the journal around to Hermione as her finger rested upon the date as blue eyes met brown ones over the rims of silver frames. "Her life stops on February 25th, 2010." Helena watched as frantic eyes fell from hers to the parchment, "And no matter how many variables or variations I have tried, the date has remained unaltered."

Hermione scanned the numbers, letters, notes and tried to recall some of the formulas she had learned from her years at Hogwarts; but the ones before her were far more advanced and well beyond her knowledge. "Does…she…" Hermione fought to keep her stomach at bay as she once again met Helena's gaze, "know?"

"She does." Helena tenderly confirmed.

"And what happens on the 25th?"

"Harkiss and the Order apparently clash; and she is one of the casualties."

"One of…who are the other ones?"

Helena shook her head, "I'm afraid Hermione, that even Minerva doesn't know that."

"But you do."

"I do, but as Harold likes to iterate, there is always chance; and there was only one commonality amongst all of the calculations that were run."

"Minerva's death."

"Yes."

"And…why tell me all of this? Why now?" Hermione directed to the couple sitting opposite of her. "After all that has happened, and her stout denial regarding her love for me; why tell me?"

"Because," long fingers pulled silver frames from her face revealing haunted blue eyes, "I should have told you sooner, and I didn't. I thought that Minerva was correct in her belief that it was better for you if you never knew; and better for her as well. Because, in a way, she is right; it would be better for you not to know that she loves you. That despite being bound, dying and everything else this last year has put before her; she has fallen in love with you; because she will not act on it. You will never hear those words fall from her lips, nor will she ever act with a gram of impropriety; because for her to do the aforementioned would be to desecrate her vows to Albus and it would kill the very core of the woman we both love. I thought it prudent…or rather…well, I merely wanted you to know that she does love you. I wish you could have known longer what it means to be loved by Minerva McGonagall, but at least…you can still have a moment and know the truth before the end. And she…well…she can know what it's like to be loved once more; even if she can't acknowledge it aloud. For she will take the words to her grave, but if you can reconcile with her; know that her actions, looks, touch and time she wishes to spend with you will tell you all that she can not." Helena paused as she turned to look into her husband's eyes before quietly continuing on, "I don't know Hermione. I suppose a large part of why I'm telling you is…that I can't stand the thought of my best friend dying so miserably and conflicted….and perhaps that's selfish on my part. But if I was dying, I could only hope that my oldest friend would ignore me once more…so I could hold that connection, my love …with Harold for even just one more moment before I died."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

_a/n: And no…don't look for another one tomorrow ;) But hopefully you'll see one very soon. As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	111. Chapter 106 February 21st, 2010

**Chapter 106 ~ February 21st, 2010 (Sunday)**

"She'se still not available," Milksy forlornly stated, "I'se will let you know as soon as she is."

"And Elgin?"

Her ears drooped, "Unavailable."

Her lips pursed, "I don't believe it. And am beginning to think that I am getting the run around."

"I'se relaying what Elgin has said, Professors Hermione." She stepped closer, "But as I didn't see Tily and only saw Elgin upon my initial query; I don't believes the Mistress is within Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"They'se deep clean her living suite and office when she'se not here; and then rotate who is on call and the other gets some rest."

"But don't they tell you when she is not here?"

"Only regarding official business; if she is supposed to be heres, then no's. None of the house elves 'cept Elgin or Tily knows."

"Who would…know?" She turned to Godric's portrait about to ask, but stopped upon realizing that it would be futile as the portrait was bound to the Headmistress. Her mind churning through possibilities until she finally realized who would know where Minerva was.

Filius.

"Where's the Deputy Headmaster?"

"Within his rooms."

In a handful of strides, she was standing before Godric's portrait. "Can you verify with Rowena and see if Filius is available? I have need to speak with him as soon as possible?"

Godric merely shimmered away and returned seconds later, "Filius said he'll be here momentarily."

"I can go to him." She replied while pulling her hair back.

"I believe he wishes to come to you as Pomona is still sleeping."

"Ohh…" She moved back to the inner part of her rooms, eyes darting to the clock above the mantle; it was only five thirty. "Milksy, as I doubt I'll find Minerva before breakfast at this point, can you bring up some fruit and coffee?"

"You'll have it momentarily," she vanished leaving Hermione momentarily alone. Her thoughts once again returning to the conversation she had less than twelve hours ago with Helena and Harold…and the overwhelming truth they had shared with her.

A truth that still left her breathless.

Unsure.

Giddy.

Light-headed.

And most importantly, as though she were floating.

For…the woman that she loved did in fact love her back.

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Hermione had been unprepared for the breeze as she appeared before the massive wrought iron gates; the wind coming off snow and down the highlands was enough to steal the breath from her lungs. But it wasn't enough to stop her.

Not today.

Raising her hand, she pulled off her glove and grabbed the gate and was pleasantly surprised at the ease with which it opened; granting her access to the fabled grounds of McGonagall Manor.

Despite the constant flurries, the stone pathway leading up to the Manor itself barely had a quarter inch of snow upon it. Hermione practically glided up the walkway, thoughts on what she was going to say to Minerva and how…she was going to help them get past the last two weeks.

She hadn't quite worked that out yet, despite having been up for most of the night. Because every time she had tried to focus on what she was going to say; she couldn't help how her thoughts would revert back to Helena's quietly spoken statement – that Minerva loved her.

Raising her hand, she knocked upon the tall aged oak door as she glanced back to look at the stone carved griffins gazing out across the grounds. The soft creak of the door caused her to snap her head back and meet Bonnie's large yellow eyes.

"Madame Hermione, what a pleasant surprise." She motioned for her to enter.

"I was hoping to speak with Minerva," Hermione said while uncoiling her scarf.

"I'm afraid she left already."

Hermione's eyes scanned across the foyer, up the stair and finally dropping back to Bonnie, "I've just left Hogwarts, and have been trying to speak with her since last evening."

"She is due back to Hogwarts late today."

"Do you know what time?"

Bonnie shook her head, "I'm afraid I do not."

Hermione kneeled beside Bonnie, "Where is she?" She asked softly, "I really need to speak with her and set some things…straight."

Genuine concern flared in Bonnie's eyes, "She isn't here, I'm sorry."

"Then can you tell me where she is?" Hermione reached out gently taking Bonnie's hand, "It's important."

"I don't know…"

"Please," Hermione quietly interrupted. "Please, Bonnie. Trust me. I know she's dying, and that she'll be dead within the week…I just…can you please tell me where she has gone to?"

"She departed twenty minutes ago to have a short meeting with Tom at the factory. Then she is planning on stopping by to speak with Milan and I believe she'll duck into London and pick up the latest Transfiguration journal versus waiting until Wednesday when she normally receives a copy. After that, I believe she'll return to Hogwarts for a brief while before meeting the family for dinner at the Ridge."

"Is she coming back here this evening after her dinner or returning to Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts." Bonnie breathed as she read the brown eyes before her, and sighed softly. "Be careful what you speak to her about Hermione," her eyes misted over, "she is not well."

"I know." Hermione leaned forward and kissed Bonnie's cheek, "I promise, my intent is not to hurt her."

* * *

xoxo

* * *

Minerva let her fingers run along the shelves of texts, eyes briefly scanning the titles that ran down the spines. Titles she'd never have an opportunity to read, and she couldn't help the overwhelming sense of melancholy sweep through her.

How quickly none of it really mattered anymore.

Except, she didn't want to believe that in mere days or perchance weeks; she'd be dead.

After having lived through three wars, the death of two children, a grandchild, most of her childhood friends, she would finally be joining the throng of her kin and her husband beyond the veil.

"Headmistress," Darrin stepped up next to her handing her the latest Transfiguration Journal, "you were right, they were in the box marked with a sale date of the 24th. However, I don't think anyone will mind."

Minerva took the proffered item, handing the recently graduated Hufflepuff a galleon. "Keep the change for your trouble Darrin."

"Thank you Headmistress." He stated and swept back to the counter as her eyes glanced at the cover which highlighted Michael Williams' latest theories on post mortem transfiguration.

She tucked the journal into her cloak and pulled her thoughts back to the present versus what the immediate future held. A future that was as bleak as surviving the killing curse, but one that she was galloping head long in to without the possibility of reprieve.

Lifting her head, and stealing her back she strode from Flourish and Blotts, a stray thought wondering if that had been her last trip to the noted bookstore.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"Cheers!" George called out to the small gathering, while lifting his glass in mock celebration to how he truly felt.

The room replied in a chorus of noise as they cheered Lee, again.

"Just wait," Charlie said leaning over to his brother, "I've got a special treat for Lee and you."

George frowned, "Me?"

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, "Perc said you've had a tough time this past week, figured something happened between you and your girl; it's just my way of helping you get past it."

"Please tell me you didn't get any call girls."

The doorbell rang and Charlie jumped up, a smile briefly crossing his face as he held up his hand to Lee, Bill, and the half dozen other guys; "I got this."

Lee turned to George, "What's he up to?"

"Apparently he wants you to have a good night." George said nodding to the door.

But Lee nudged him as two ladies stepped through the door, "Thank Merlin I'm not getting married till Thursday."

"Mia will kill you," George breathed as Lee's gaze remained fixed on the women striding towards them.

"Only if she finds out," Lee murmured, "and it's not like anything will happen." He finished as the shorter of the two women stopped before him, her skin color almost a perfect match to Lee's as dainty fingers skimmed across his cheek. "I don't know about that," she purred as the second woman stopped before George.

She was athletic, with strong hands and piercing eyes, long black hair and George couldn't help but lean farther back as she leaned closer to him. "And where do you think you're going?"

George heard the room chuckle at her remark but his focus was waylaid as warm lips slid across his while her hand snaked into his hair and pulled him closer. It was warm, different and not what he had been expecting as the kiss had reminded him of all people of Rory; the way his kisses could be soft and demanding all at once. She pulled away, eyes meeting his; and then she was standing and extending her hand downward. "I think we need to go where there is a bit more privacy."

"Whooott, go George!" Lee said as he turned back to him, his hands upon the other woman's waist as she lead him up the stairs.

"Lee, what are you doing?" George said scrambling to stand up, but Bill placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Let Lee worry about Lee for tonight while you," Bill's eyes snapped to the woman by his side, "worry about you."

"I…" George turned to Bill, "thanks but I think it is best I go."

The woman's hand came to rest on his arm as her lips whispered soft words for only him to hear, "Let's go talk for a while. Just talk, handsome."

George turned around about to say no, but at seeing his friends and family's expectant faces he found himself consenting and moving through the small crowd to an empty room.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Tiredly, Minerva stepped from the floo network, throwing her cloak on the arm of her chair as she quietly called for Elgin who immediately appeared beside her. "If you'd be so kind," Minerva stated as he snapped his fingers instantly removing the soot from her clothes.

He cast a glance to the other occupant of the room, who thus far the Mistress hadn't noticed and he cleared his throat, "Will you'se be needing anything else?"

"Perhaps a pot of chamomile with a splash of honey to counter this evening's wine." She idly remarked while fingering through her correspondence, "Were there any new developments?"

"No, Mistress. I'se gets you the pot of tea."

"Thank you," Minerva replied to his vanishing form before she glanced up to the wall of portraits. She was about to question their unusual brevity upon her arrival but it died on her lips as she realized that they were staring past her and her head snapped around at once, eyes narrowing to see who was sitting in her office.

And she felt her stomach plummet as she realized who was sitting there, and what she had seen. "Professor Granger," involuntarily her lips pursed as she palmed her walking cane, "is something amiss?"

Hermione stood, "My apologies for waiting in your office, but I had an urgent need to speak with you."

"Has one of the students been injured?"

"No," Hermione answered as she marveled at Minerva's selflessness. Here she was dying, according to Helena able to do only the simplest of spells and she was more concerned about the students and their safety. _How can I not love her?_

Minerva's brows furrowed, "Then the urgent need pertains to?" She inquired moving forward, leaning heavily on her walking cane despite not wanting to; as her hip was killing her from being out in the weather for a large portion of the morning, the sheer amount of walking and then subsequent sitting and the solitary pain potion she ingested since this morning.

"You." Hermione said as she took a step nearer, but was unprepared for the professional wall that came crashing down upon her.

"I believe we have discussed that topic in as great of detail as we are going to." Minerva stated as she erected what remained of her reserves after having spent the day primarily away from Hogwarts and then around her family this evening.

"Minerva…"

"If you can please see yourself out." Minerva curtly stated, turning away from Hermione and moving towards the staircase.

Hermione paused and although a part of her, albeit a rather large part, wanted to abide by Minerva's wishes and leave, she delved deep into her Gryffindor courage and remained steadfast. "I will, after you grant me a few moments of your time."

Minerva paused at the base of the stairs, head turned to the side enabling her to see Hermione over her shoulder, and as much as she didn't want to say yes; she also didn't want to leave the other woman's company. "Very well." She said, but stepped to the side of the stairs, "But please," she nodded to the stairs, "go ahead of me."

Hermione kept her voice even as she swept around the chesterfield, "Is your hip bothering you?"

"It's merely been a long day," Minerva summarized, "Did you have an opportunity to see Rose and Hugo this weekend?"

"I didn't have time," she replied while noticing that Minerva was taking the stairs a step at a time and not lifting her right leg. "I had some things to sort today and didn't wish to have the children underfoot while doing so."

Minerva bit back the obvious question and diverted her curious nature to an area she was more comfortable in knowing the response to, "And how's your father?" She asked while inwardly grimacing and forcing her leg to take the last step.

"Overall, he continues to make improvement." Hermione said while standing by the chesterfield, trying to ignore the stilted interactions between she and Minerva as she drew nearer.

Minerva motioned to the ivory chesterfield, "Please," she leaned her walking cane against the arm of the chesterfield as she sat opposite, not able to keep the wince from passing over her face.

"Do you need a pain potion?" Hermione questioned leaning forward.

"I'll have one prior to heading off to bed," Minerva replied as she shifted into the cushion, "now," she eyed the pot of tea but was reluctant to move for a few more minutes; and certainly not until after Hermione departed, "what did you feel was of utter importance and wish to converse about?"

"The last two weeks…"

"I don't…" Minerva tried to interject, but Hermione wouldn't permit her as she continued talking.

"…and how I wish they had never happened." Hermione swallowed her apprehension as she pushed the words from her throat, "And I wish that I had told you last weekend the whole truth regarding Angelina."

"As I stated Hermione, I'm happy for the both of you and you needn't explain."

"But I do need to explain," Hermione leaned closer, "and I need you to listen."

* * *

oxox

* * *

George had been under the mistaken belief that when Dani had said they would talk, that they actually would, talk. However as her lips glided down his throat and her hands skimmed up his chest, gently pulling on his shirt; it was apparent that she had no intention of talking. "Look I…don't think I…" her hands skimmed across his waist, "Dani…" he cleared his throat stepping back, "this is not my idea of a good time."

"Why don't you just relax," she murmured as her hands converged on his trousers and before he could comment, he felt her hands sink past the waistband of his boxers.

"This isn't…" he couldn't help how his breath hitched as her fingers wrapped around his length, "what I call relaxing."

"Then describe what you find relaxing." She murmured as she nipped at his collarbone, fingers slowly pushing his pants farther down, "Candlelight? An intimate dinner?"

His eyes darted to the door and then to Dani as she began a line of slows kisses across his chest and he closed his eyes, ashamed that he had let it go this far and that he had momentarily contemplated going through with it in its entirety. "I can't do this," he said reaching down and pulling her fully to him, "I'm sorry. You're beautiful, but I'm in a relationship that while we are having difficulties presently; I won't cheat."

He watched as her eyes smiled, "She's a lucky lady."

"Actually, it's a guy." He squared his jaw as he met her gaze, his Gryffindor pride straightening his back as he continued on, "And I'm the lucky one."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Slowly, reluctantly, Minerva nodded as she inwardly braced herself for what Hermione was about to state. Because she had sworn to herself that she would be happy for her, no matter how hard it was to bear.

"I drank far too much the Monday evening after you told me about your bond to Albus; and I ended up crashing at George's. The following morning his brother Percy showed up. Percy saw George draped over me; our clothes drenched and he inferred we were sleeping together. That next Saturday, I asked him what was troubling him; Percy went off and you heard the fallout. However, the reason I said I'd go out with Angelina was to spare him, as he isn't ready to admit to his family about his relationship with Rory. Subsequently I went out that evening with Angelina and…" Her voice trailed off as she thought back to the fun she had dancing, and at seeing Minerva's back stiffen she pulled herself from her own reverie, and continued on. "We went dancing." She gazed deeply into Minerva's eyes, looking for anything to betray the emotions that Helena swore she had towards her, "And I ended up relaxing…and during the course of our conversation she told me that the Auror division has been assigned to watch both your and my movements as a protection detail. I…wasn't comfortable anymore and asked Angelina if she knew somewhere we could go and we ended up at her flat."

Minerva tried tamping down the flare of jealousy swelling in her chest, and only succeeded in recalling the evening she and Rory had unexpectedly happened upon them kissing at the gates. Her ire flared at her own foolishness, as she should have known then that Hermione had felt something for the auror.

"We danced some more and ended up kissing."

"As I said earlier Hermione, I have no need to hear of your liaisons and…" Hermione interrupted Minerva's commentary as she sat on the coffee table next to Minerva.

"I stopped it," Hermione said as she stared into emerald irises, "because it wasn't what I wanted." She reached out to take Minerva's hands; and wasn't surprised as Minerva leaned further away from her even though the edge of their knees touching and overall proximity. "I never meant to hurt you." She quietly breathed, "And I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am that I did, but…" she fought through the sudden onslaught of emotion, voice breaking as she continued on, "I was hurt and didn't react well." Brown eyes pleaded with hers for a semblance of understanding and despite the void expression lacing Minerva's countenance she pressed on, because she didn't believe she'd have the strength to do this again. "I want to have back…what we had before. Your friendship, the openness between us, the lack of stilted conversations, and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did to the news you relayed; and for asking if you could love me and then seemingly turning around and almost sleeping with Angelina. I know it must appear as though I didn't care when that is…" she sighed, "so far from the truth. So very far." She finished in a whisper as she tentatively reached up, fingers stretching out to trace her defined jaw. Slowly, in the silent room, Hermione touched the tender flesh; "I understand you are bound." She quietly continued on, "That due to your bond, you are dying. And it will be far sooner than the end of this coming term year."

At that Minerva tipped her head away, Hermione's fingers falling from her flesh, "I was hurt as well, Hermione. However," she willed the last of reserves to the forefront, "perhaps it is best that we part company. I cannot be that which you seek."

"I know," Hermione heartfelt words rippling between them, "but it doesn't stop how I feel for you."

Minerva's heart swelled in warmth at the previous comment, but the guilt crushed it almost as quickly. "Hermione, what you ask…"

Delicately she placed her fingers across rose lips, "Don't." Hermione pleaded, "For just one moment, I beseech you, Minerva…don't." Satisfied Minerva wouldn't speak, she lowered her hand, "I…" she shook her head, eyes misting over at the gravity at what she was about to say, and started again. "I…love you. Merlin knows, I've tried not too; but I do. I can't begin to explain how it happened, or why, even when…only that it did." She swallowed shakily, "But I wanted you to know that I do." Tears swelled in her eyes, "And that I'm here for you. Always."

Minerva choked back the emotion and reached out taking Hermione's fingers with her own, not trusting her own voice for a moment; the only reply coming from the tears glistening against emerald orbs. "Know…" her contralto thick with emotion, "that I care for you a great deal, my dear." She let her thumb rub over Hermione's knuckles, "But also know that I cannot…"

"I know." Hermione interrupted, not able to hear it aloud. She nodded in affirmation to Minerva, as she quietly repeated. "I know."

"And…" Minerva's thumb stopped moving, as she rolled the truth over her lips trying to state the damning truth aloud. "that…my health is in a far more precarious place than I lead you to believe. At best, I'll live 6 weeks; and if you are to believe signs and portents I shall be dead by this week's end."

Hermione gasped, "This week?" She had thought Helena and Harold had been trying to force her to act quickly; not that she hadn't believed them, but this week!

"My magic is all but gone," Minerva felt as if a weight was being lifted as she relayed the horrifying truth, "and am for lack of a better phrase a borderline squib. The next engagement I am in will undoubtedly be my last."

"When you took me to St. Mungos, you…." Her eyes widened at the overreaching implications, "dear God Minerva, how badly were you hurt?"

"It's been progressing," Minerva softly replied, "each time since the beginning of the year it has become worse until I'll cast a spell and use the last of my magic which maintains my bond with Hogwarts. Once my magic is gone, Hogwarts magic shall be too; leaving me subject to my bond with Albus and death will soon find me."

"But how badly," brown eyes swept over her form, trying to recall any substance of relevance other than the sheer pain she had felt upon arriving at St. Mungos. "Your…neck…" she vaguely recalled, "was burnt. What of your arms, hands?"

"Three-fourths of my body," Minerva admitted, "and the next time…"

"There won't be a next time," Hermione interjected, "as you can't duel again. You'll kill yourself if you do."

"Aye," Minerva tenderly agreed, "I will. And if I do not, I shall die in agony; over the course of multiple days as my magic slowly fades away."

"But…you can't die." Hermione breathed tearfully.

"I assure you, I am." She lifted her hand, gently running it along Hermione's temple as she tucked the unruly locks behind her ear, "As much as I wish I wasn't," she let her fingers cup Hermione's chin and then fall away, before caringly finishing, "I am."

Hermione's jaw rippled, "Then let me help you these next few weeks until you do."

Minerva frowned as she turned her head to the office, the roar of the fire finally reaching Hermione's ears.

"Who…?" Hermione began but stopped as Minerva's hand landed upon her leg and she gently shook her head.

"Mother?" Tessa's voice called out, causing Minerva's shoulders to sink and face to dampen as she cleared her throat and replied with faux cheer.

"Give me a moment," she turned back to Hermione, "I…" she could hear her daughter moving quickly to the staircase, "cannot guarantee it will be as before, my dear."

Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief at Minerva's remark, and numbly found herself standing in time with Minerva. "Minerva…I…"

Long fingers were suddenly gripping Hermione's forearm, causing the stumbling words to cease as she met pained eyes with her own; willing them to remain open and honest despite Tessa's rapidly approaching footsteps. "But I'd like to try."

"Mother, Perc and I were…ohhh," Tessa stopped mid-sentence as she crested the stairs to see her mother standing within a half of meter of Hermione Granger, hand resting on her forearm; an intent almost pleading expression lacing the younger witch's features, whereas her mother's had been obscured. "Good evening Hermione. Mother, I didn't know you had company."

Hermione watched as Minerva's left brow arched in disbelief and she felt her face close down in anger as she shifted her gaze from Minerva to Tessa, "I believe Minerva asked you to wait a moment before coming up," Hermione countered as she felt Minerva's hand leave her arm and peripherally saw Minerva snatch her walking cane before turning to face her daughter.

"My apologies," she half-heartedly stated in response to Hermione's comment, eyes already meeting her mother's, "but I was hoping to entice you to return to the Ridge. Milan stopped by along with Jordan, Matthew and the children."

"I appreciate the offer love, but I'm tired."

"But not too tired to deal with Hogwarts business?" She retorted.

Hermione opened her mouth to rebuke the comment, but Minerva's right hand latched onto her forearm for a second time in as many minutes. "Ask them if they are available tomorrow evening, and I'll see them then."

Tessa's gaze hadn't moved from where her mother's hand had landed upon Hermione's forearm, and she felt her anger flare at the upstart of a woman yet again interfering with her family. With her mother. Her eyes narrowed as they flicked to Minerva, "And the family yet again becomes second fiddle to all that lives and breathes Hogwarts."

Brown eyes flared but the vice-like grip on her forearm tightened even more as Minerva's jaw rippled, "Please send my regards Tess and if they can make it tomorrow, I shall see each of them then."

"Even at the end…"

Hermione stepped past Minerva, infuriated at Tessa's presumptuousness. "I believe Minerva asked that you leave."

Blue eyes snapped to brown ones, "Do you _always_ do as mother says?"

"Whereas you continually challenge her?"

"Tessa, enough." Minerva clipped, "Hermione," her eyes fell to soft brown ones, "I…will see you tomorrow." Minerva waved her hand, the red door at the back of her living suite appearing.

Hermione glanced from Minerva to Tessa and then back to Minerva again, wanting to remain but knowing that she couldn't. Minerva had asked her to leave. "Good night, Minerva." Her eyes warningly met blue ones, "Tessa."

"Hermione." Tessa stiffly replied, their gazes not breaking until the door closed and she finally turned back to her mother, "Are you certain you do not wish to attend this evening?"

"Quite," Minerva clipped, "I was tired prior to leaving the Ridge and that has not changed since my return here. I have every intention of having a cup of tea and then retiring for the evening. Now please give my regards, goodnight." Minerva finished with little fanfare, setting her cane against the chesterfield, plainly obvious that she was going about her evening as planned.

"Very well," Tessa replied, "but if you change your mind," She leaned around the side and unexpectedly kissed her mother's cheek, "we'll be up for a while."

"I know, and if by a miracle I am granted with a burst of energy I'll return," she poured herself a cup of tea as she finished, "but I doubt it."

"Till tomorrow then," Tessa said with a measure of hope interspersed with a tendril of uncertainty.

"I've already spoken to Bonnie; dinner will be served at 7:30. Speak with her regarding who has already been invited and make whatever adjustments you deem fit." Minerva leaned back, left arm resting across the back of the chesterfield, a cup of tea perched in her fingers; as she brought a book up with her right hand.

"Right," Tessa murmured, "night then."

Minerva waited until she heard Tessa's sure footedness descend the stairs, words of farewell with the portraits and then the flash of the floo before letting her head fall back onto the pillows as the events before Tessa's arrival began replaying in her mind's eye. And try as she may, the smile that shouldn't have been there continued to grow wider and wider.

Because Hermione loved her.

She loved her.

Loved…

And the tears started to press against the backs of her eyes, as the guilt swelled in her breast; a sigh eschewing forth as she muttered aloud, "What in Merlin's beard am I doing?"

_According to Helena I'm to be dead within the week. She's a fraction of my age…for heaven sake; I have children older than she. I'm bound. _"I need to put a stop to this before it goes any farther." She finished audibly while standing.

"While you won't verbalize it, I can feel your love for her." Albus countered from the mantelpiece, their eyes meeting. "There is no shame in love, my dear. Nor in feeling it."

"And in a week when I am dead?"

"Will it alter how either of you feels?"

"I'll be joining you in a week; I believe the entire situation is moot."

"It remains a valid question."

"You know how I feel in regards to both her _and _you; and that I've already made my decision."

"You have my love, and I cannot express how my heart lifts at the notion at spending the next several lifetimes with you. But for now, I…" he met her with strangely soul filled eyes, "want you to live, and whether it is only for a few more days or even weeks; enjoy your life."

"Albus, what you are asking; goes against everything I am."

"No," he whispered, "asking you not to live would. Enjoy the time you have with Hermione, as I don't want you to regret not having experienced her love. And when death comes, we'll discuss where our future lies."

She felt a weight begin releasing from her soul, "I _do_ love you."

Twinkling blue eyes sparkled, "And I you." His portrait became lighter, "Now, I believe she went through," he motioned to the inner passageways, "there and will undoubtedly still be awake after your conversation. At the very least, a game of chess is in order." And before she could reply, he had stepped from his frame; leaving her alone with his comments and their conversation and ultimately her decision.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Arthur stifled a yawn, "Your mother's coming," his eyes swept over his son's physique as he sat opposite, "and you're sure this couldn't wait until morning?"

"Afraid not." George glanced at the clock, it was half past eleven. He had known it was a long shot that one or even both would still be up given the schedule they were having to keep due to his father's new position; but he hadn't wanted to wait another day. He couldn't. Well, he could; but he didn't want to. He was through waiting. And while he didn't know how either of parents were going to take the news, he came to the startling realization less than twenty minutes ago that he didn't care. He hoped they'd be supportive and understanding; and if they weren't well…it would undoubtedly hurt, but it couldn't possibly hurt any more than having lost Fred and the void following his death. And now Rory.

His mother's steady footsteps pulled his gaze from the table top and to the doorway as she entered; robe obviously having been hastily tied about her night clothes, hair only partially tamed and a mixed expression of worry and fatigue lacing her countenance. "Are you alright George?"

"I'm fine," he replied as he reached over and pulled out a chair for his mom, "but I wanted to speak with you both."

Her lips pinched, "And this couldn't wait until morning? You know your father has to be up before five…"

"Molly, I doubt he'd be here at this hour unless it was important." Arthur interjected, "Now, what is it George?"

George opened his mouth, both of his parents gazing expectantly at him and he closed his eyes remembering his brother's carefree spirit. The way his eyes lit up as they tested their first product on Lee and how he had grown warts over the whole of his body, except where they had planned. A carefree spirit he had shared; one that they had fostered in the other. A spirit that until the last few months had seemingly been buried with his twin or at least had seemed to have been buried, until four months ago when he began to spend time with Rory.

"I met someone." He finally breathed, "And for the first time since Fred's…death, I…" his vision started to become blurry as he cleared his throat, "I feel something."

Molly's lips twitched as her hand reached out and laid it atop of his, her worry dissipating into relief that perhaps her son would be alright after all.

"And…I wanted to tell you both about it, as it is not the most…conventional relationship."

"Then you and Hermione are together?" Molly asked trying not to appear mortified at the notion as she felt; because while she was happy for one son, she was devastated for the other one. Not counting what that would do to family dinners.

George met his father's gaze, "No, nor is it a former death eater or even someone who could be associated with Harkiss."

"You're sure?" Arthur asked, surprised at his son's assuredness. "I know we always want to believe in the best of…"

"I'm sure dad." George stated with finality, "As it is a long standing friend of McG's."

At this both Molly and Arthur leaned back, questions lacing their features as they obviously tried to determine who George was referencing. "Assuredly, you don't mean Helena do you?" Molly inquired as she involuntarily clasped her husband's hand.

"No," George said with a chuckle, "although, I'd have to admit to wanting to be worried for both you and I, dad; as Harold would be a bear to contend with."

Arthur released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, "You have no idea," he swallowed, thankfully moving past the notion of it being Helena as he processed _who_ he knew to be Minerva's acquaintances. While Kingsley had tried to make a thorough list; he was sure that it only scratched the surface of Minerva's true self. However, there were _only_ so many persons that would classify themselves as a long standing friend to Minerva McGonagall. The Harrisons; although they were married. Filius and Pomona; again married and happy for decades too. Philip Templeton, a recluse at best. Rory Wallace, previous lover of her brother and dear friend. Aurora Sinistra, married. Poppy Pomphry…his brain lulled to a stop as he recalled the stilted conversation he had had with George months prior and that he hadn't been ready to talk about it, but he had been happy. And his eyes widened as he realized _who_ his son was speaking about.

"Arthur," Molly shook his hand, "who is it?" She turned back to her son, who was unflinchingly holding his father's gaze.

"He's a good man, son." Arthur reaffirmed to George as Molly turned to her husband.

"Good man?" Her face frowning as she fully processed the words, "George?"

"Mum, I've been in a relationship with Rory Wallace for the last two and a half months."

"Then why in Merlin's name did you lead us to believe you liked Hermione?" She sighed, "And the show she put on at the meeting last week, George. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I…."

"You'll need to sort this with your brothers, especially Ronald. To step in the middle of his and Hermione's relationship…"

"I wasn't." George stated above his mum's rising voice, "At least not on purpose, and just for the record; Hermione and Ron will not be getting back together. Hermione has confided that she is falling in love with someone else; and she doesn't love Ron the same way."

"Just please tell me it isn't Angelina." Molly said shaking her head, "I don't think I can take another quidditch fanatic at the dinner table."

"No, it isn't Angelina; but in the long run, I think it would be easier if it was."

Both Molly and Arthur worriedly looked at him, "Son?"

A despondent expression passed over his face, "She'll tell everyone when she's ready," he shook off his morose thoughts and the complications and problems awaiting him after he left here; and met his mother's warm features, "You're alright with me…dating Rory?"

A look of chagrin passed over her features as she realized _what_ he was talking about, "Ohhh, George, don't tell me you have been worried about telling us regarding Rory and how we'd feel?" She easily read the truth from his face and sighed, "My only wish is that you are happy." A warm smile passed over her eyes, "And if he has brought that back for you, I couldn't be happier."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione quietly waited, half expecting for Minerva to jerk herself awake; but as the seconds passed and the lines of her face continued to ease, Hermione realized that Minerva wasn't going to wake herself back up. And instead of transfiguring the chesterfield or calling Milksy or Elgin, she merely sat there and enjoyed the moment. Minerva had followed her after Tessa's departure, with a game of chess in hand; and suggested they play or at least, start a game.

Without thought Hermione had consented, and it wasn't until their third turn that any further conversation was broached; the awkwardness not lost on either one, but neither fully knowing how to combat it. And yet, the short questions and simple answers slowly morphed to a gentle dialogue about the upcoming transfiguration journal; which Minerva then admitted to acquiring an early copy this morning, but not having had time to read it as of yet but was looking forward to Michael's theory on post-mortem transfiguration. Hermione had jested that it probably didn't hold a candle to post-mortem transformation causing a momentary flash of a genuine smile to pass over Minerva's features before she quietly responded, "No I daresay not." She moved her rook down the board, "But it'll be fascinating nonetheless, as there has been so little published on the topic for the past decade."

And the game moved slowly on, the hour getting later; the conversation which had started as awkward, sparse and at best stilted; had been transformed over the course of the game but while no longer awkward had become just as sparse in a comfortable kind of way as their focus turned to strategy. The minutes continued passing by, each move taking longer and longer until Hermione had noticed that Minerva's eyes had begun to droop; and ten minutes ago they had closed and failed to reopen.

It didn't surprise Hermione, it was approaching one-thirty; and Minerva had said she was tired over three hours ago. The dark circles beneath her eyes had almost caused Hermione to decline the game before it had begun, but she had selfishly said yes wanting to believe this had been Minerva's way of an olive branch. And, she rationalized, if Minerva hadn't wanted to come; would she have?

Carefully, Hermione stood and walked away from the chesterfield and into her room before calling Elgin.

At once the elder house elf appeared, "Hermione's?"

She nodded to her living suite, and the sleeping figure easily discerned beyond. "As much as I'd like to transfigure the chesterfield into a bed, I thought she'd probably sleep better within her own chambers."

Eglin patted her hand and with a nod, she felt his magic swirl around her and with a barely perceptible pop he and Minerva were gone; however, the lightness within her soul remained, and she swore if that if she closed her eyes, she would be floating.

* * *

oxox

* * *

_a/n: For those readers believing that the end of this story is 'just around the corner'; do be mindful that the bulk of the story line is plotted out for the duration of a Hogwart's year (i.e. July-June). Hence there are several more chapters (undoubtedly to your elation and at times both of our frustrations) still to be written._

_As always, hope you enjoyed!_


	112. Chapter 107 February 22nd, 2010

**Chapter 107 ~ February 22****nd****, 2010 (Monday)**

Hermione cursed herself for the eleventh time in as many minutes; because she was late. And it was her own damn fault that she had overslept. Not that she still didn't have time to grab some food before the start of classes, but she had hoped to be able to be one of the first to arrive at breakfast enabling her to sit by Minerva.

"Not that, that's happening this morning." She muttered to herself as she pulled on her second boot, wandlessly lacing it only moments later. Standing, her eyes inadvertently cast to the mirror; and she couldn't help but notice the slight gleam emanating from her eyes despite the onset of circles beneath her lashes.

Shaking her head at her own absurdity, she reached behind her and with deft strokes pulled her hair back as she strode from her rooms – bidding Godric a good morning as she went.

"And to you," she vaguely heard him reply as she began descending the stairs. It wasn't until she was pulling the teacher's door open that she realized that she had strode down a hundred and thirty two steps; four corridors and through an alcove to arrive where she was; and she had no real recollection of the journey – because her thoughts had been elsewhere. Or rather on Minerva.

She pulled open the door, expecting to see her erect posture sitting in the Headmistresses chair only to find it vacant and by the look of her place setting, it didn't appear as she had come to breakfast. She stopped herself from turning back after having already set foot in the Great Hall, and moved forward to sit next to Marx and Aurora who had saved her; her traditional seat.

"Morning Hermione," Marx reached over and poured her a glass of juice, "and from the look in your eyes, I'm going to guess that you managed to see your children last evening."

Hermione shook her head, "No," but she couldn't shake the small smile from spreading across her lips, "I merely spoke with them via fire call."

Aurora caught Marx's eyes, both professors noticing their colleagues' unusual lightness this morning, "Oh, then another date with Miss Johnson?"

Hermione did a double take before fully turning to Aurora, "I'm afraid not," she answered in a cool tone, suddenly remembering that the rest of the world did not know of her feelings; nor would they, if Minerva was dying within the next few days or perchance weeks. Because, what would the point be, especially if Minerva wouldn't reciprocate them publicly. And she felt her jubilee began to wane at what her immediate future would mean; as everyone would believe her happiness stemmed from her recent excursion with Angelina. Sighing, she turned back to her breakfast, "I merely had a quiet night in and managed to catch up with Minerva over a game of chess."

"The weekend, your children and friends obviously suited you," Marx cut a piece of quiche from his slice, spearing it with his fork as he turned to Hermione, smile adorning his face, "you look mildly rested for the first time in months."

"I'm sure it won't last," Hermione dished some fruit onto her plate, "I have 4th year Slytherin and Gryffindors this morning."

"Perhaps," Marx cut a piece of sausage, "your class will go smoothly."

"Doubtful, but I shall remain hopeful."

The minutes passed as the professors each quietly ate or added more breakfast to their plates, the sounds of cutlery the only noise amongst them as several of the other professors spoke even engaging Aurora and Marx for a fair bit of time. Hermione hadn't realized how much time had passed, her thoughts interrupted as she felt a light hand upon her thigh. Blinking, she focused on Aurora's face as she softly asked, "How is Minerva?" Hermione felt her features morph in question, causing Aurora to quietly expand on her inquiry. "Other than the occasional meal, she hasn't been readily available this past week unless it'd qualify as an emergency."

"She was a bit tired last evening, but that's to be expected with the schedule she keeps." Hermione carefully replied.

"Too true," Marx chuckled joining in the conversation, "I have oft wondered how she maintains the schedule she does day in and out. The only saving grace is that she no longer teaches, Filius has remarked that her schedule is lighter now than when she was Deputy and working with Dumbledore."

"Surprisingly, it is." Aurora confirmed, "But it remains far too hectic nonetheless."

"Yes," Hermione softly agreed, "it does."

* * *

Oxox

* * *

George hadn't known what to expect when he had arrived this morning, but this surely hadn't been it. However, he wasn't about to argue with McG. Not today. And certainly not about this.

Not after everything he had believed regarding her and Hermione. And how wrong he had been.

"I shan't ask again George," she paused as she reached for the floo powder, "but are you sure?"

He swallowed as he met her piercing gaze, "With all that I am."

Minerva didn't utter another word as her hand snapped, the flames turned green, and without a backward glance she stepped into the fire, he right behind her.

He had expected to arrive at Rory's home and was surprised to see what appeared to be the trappings of her Manor. "Then we aren't flooing to his home?"

"You can'na floo there directly," she replied already walking to the doorway.

"Then why are we not flooing from here?" He asked while continuing to follow.

"Because he is here," Minerva strode down the hallway before taking a left through another door and drawing up to a stop as Rory set his cup down.

"If I had known ya wer' comin' I'd have waited f'r ya."

"While I'd love to remain here for the day, I have plans elsewhere and am already delayed."

Brows furrowed as grey eyes questioned green, "Then why 're ya here?" Minerva moved to the side and at once Rory was standing, voice already dropping in register, "Lass, this is between he an' I."

"A small part is in reference because George was unwilling to admit to his family that he loved you; and I told you not even two weeks ago that you needed to give him time. However your pride…"

"My pride?!" He interrupted but Minerva overrode him.

"Aye, your pride you daft fool. In that ya couldna wait, placing an ultimatum even though you knew how he felt about you. And it wasna his family that caused you to pull away, but how you thought he treated me; which is neither here nor there. He was right, Rory; and there can be no excuse for what I did to Hermione – nor," the tenor of her voice becoming barely a whisper, "what I will do, because while you know that I have feelings for Hermione, I cannot act on them without desecrating my vow to Albus – who I am still bound to. However, unlike me," she reached behind her and gently guided George forward, "you are free to follow your heart. And should, as life is too precious not to."

"McG I…"

She shook her head, "George, we are not here to discuss my path," a wane smile passed faintly across rose lips, "as I am already walking with death. However, you…" her eyes moved past green and landed on grey, "both of you, are not."

"I told my parents last night, Rory." George breathed, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at him, "And after I leave here, I'm going to speak with Percy; but I wanted you to know before I did that…" he cleared his throat, "I do love you. Hopefully you can forgive me for how long it took me to admit my feelings aloud, but I…"

His sentence went unfinished as Rory stepped forward and swallowed his words with warm lips. Minerva felt her heart lift as they embraced, and as their kiss deepened, she dampened the momentarily flare of jealousy in her chest at their apparent happiness, love and relief; feelings she would not be able to express as openly as they with Hermione. And a growing part of her couldn't help but desire just a moment of time when she could convey the intensifying feelings she felt for Hermione. The love that should not be, but like so many things in her life – it was.

With a quiet step she began to turn, only to peripherally see Rory break away from George, his gravelly voice rippling outward. "Minerva, ya needn't leave."

She opened her mouth, and George continued Rory's sentiment. "Please, remain."

A smile that didn't quite touch her eyes fluttered over her features, "I am afraid that I have other plans that require my attention."

Rory stepped away from George, hand reaching out and lying upon her arm to halt her, "What can possibly be…"

"I was due at breakfast with John, Audrey and Percival." She interjected and Rory sighed in understanding as he gently lifted his hand.

"Then dinner tonight?"

"I'll be at the Ridge, with the entire family along with Milan, Helena, Harold, Jordan, Matthew and the children. And while I expect George would be willing to attend, I believe you may wish to wait a few days while he speak to the rest of his family before you announce it to ours."

"Then breakfast tomorrow?"

"I'll meet you," her eyes left Rory's and landed upon George's for a moment, "both," before flickering back to Rory's grey ones, "here in the morning." Rory gave a nod, and she began to turn but paused a small twinkle in her eyes as she did, "I suspect, you'll be remaining here for the whole of the day so I'll speak with Bonnie and ask that she prepare an early breakfast."

Rory's cheeks instantly flushed and Minerva's brow merely quirked as a full chuckle left her lips as she turned and began walking down the hallway to the den; her heart feeling lighter at the notion that George would be there for Rory in the coming days and weeks. Her fingers sunk into the floo container as the faint sound of a body solidly land into the doorway wall, followed by a guttural moan reached her ears; and without further delay she threw the green powder into the fire and any further sounds coming from the hallway were momentarily drowned out as the floo network activated.

"Bonnie," she continued without waiting for her arrival, "see that they are not disturbed for any reason lest I call."

"Anything else?" Bonnie asked causing Minerva to pause mid-step into the floo and meet sparkling yellow orbs; and she answered with a shake of her head before leaving her Manor and stepping into Percival's home.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Hermione blinked as one of the student's shrieks pulled her attention back to the present and away from her thoughts that had meandered to Minerva once again. Her wand was already out, wrist moving in an automated series of movements as the snake morphed back into its previous form – a quill; as her eyes leveled at Mr. Rae. "Forty points from Slytherin Mr. Rae and you'll be meeting me this evening and for detention at 7pm. I will _not_ tolerate horse play in my classroom, and if you should feel the need to do so again; you'll be spending your time instead of in my classroom learning transfiguration, rather with Mr. Filch manually cleaning quidditch trophies every day till the end of term."

Hermione watched as he swallowed hard, the color having already drained from his face as his face flushed crimson in embarrassment, eyes dropping away from hers as he meekly replied, "Yes, Professor Granger."

Hermione didn't belabor the point having already begun to head to the back of the classroom, eyes appearing to sweep about the aisles; however, her thoughts were reverting back to the woman whose classroom this used to be.

And would have if Miss Hannah along with several other students hadn't required a little technical assistance in wand movement and spell pronunciation.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

"If you don't mind," Percival nodded to John, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I believe I can still manage," Minerva quipped as her son handed the infant to her.

"Of that," Percival removed his hands from the small bundle, "I am certain. The lad couldn't be in safer arms."

Her mouth quirked, "Tend to Audrey," she replied as her fingers gently pulled the blanket down farther enabling her to see her grandchild better.

Percival paused before ascending the stairs, trying to commit the precious moment to memory; knowing there would be far too few.

Minerva waited until her son finally went upstairs and she was finally alone before lifting up the small child to bring him closer to her; and she took a deep breath – eyes fluttering shut as she committed John's scent to memory. It was the first time since he had come home that Minerva had been alone with John; and while she wouldn't be alive long, if something did happen to the lad; she'd be able to find him. He smelt of innocence, a hint of musk, chestnut from the hearth, but most importantly – she could smell the faint familial scent linger against the soft hairs of skin and she couldn't help but relish in the way it blanketed the air. "You smell of your grandfather," she whispered as she opened her eyes, tenderly staring into the rounded face. "Along with your great-grandfather, my father, along with your own." Her fingers gently rubbed his breast bone and then up his cheek, "Though you'll only know of your father, know that you only need to look in the mirror and you'll see your forebears."

John cooed and reached up grabbing for her finger, a smile lighting his face as large blue eyes blinked up at her and she stared back.

"I wish I had more time little one," she breathed, "to see you become the man I know you can and if God is willing; will become. I will do everything in my power to see that you will have that chance, and that your future includes both your mother and father." She leaned down, lips pursing as she placed the tenderest of kisses upon his forehead. A deep sorrowness laced her voice as she continued on, "I just don't know if I have the magic left that is required, but know that I will try my lad with all that I am."

John pulled his hand and thereby her finger closer.

"And I love you too my boy."

He giggled louder at her, and she relished the moment of innocence that washed over her. For he hadn't a care in the world; as he basked in love that he could feel along with her magic and that of his parents' – instinctively knowing that he was safe.

And as Minerva stared into soulful blue eyes, she could only hope that he remained so.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Tiredly Mr. Rae stood and moved to his Professor's desk, a lengthy parchment ensconced in his fingers; "Professor."

Hermione took the proffered roll of paper and scanned down the length of lines. "You are a very skilled young man Mr. Rae," she lifted her gaze to meet his, "rise above your peers and become a wizard who others will turn to; admire and respect."

"Like Harry Potter?" Rae's question holding a hint of disdain for the noted Gryffindor.

"Rather someone who more aptly comes from Slytherin." An inquisitive look passed over his youthful features as she finished, "Professor Marx, Severus Snape or Narcissa Malfoy are all excellent examples."

"So then you believe…" she could hear the scuffling of his boots as he hesitantly asked, "being in Slytherin doesn't mean that we'll turn into evil wizards?"

"Your Hogwarts House doesn't predicate whether you will be an evil person Neal," she stated, "that solely depends upon you. Yes, Voldemort was from Slytherin; however Grindlewald went to Durmstrang."

"What of Harkiss? I was told he was sorted into Slytherin."

Hermione thought through the myriad of information she knew regarding Johannes Harkiss and found herself at a loss as to being able to confirm or deny his comment. "I don't know," she honestly relayed, "but I can tell you that the Headmistress has a daughter who when attended here was sorted into Slytherin."

His eyes widened at that statement, "Really?"

"Yes, and I can tell you that she has joined her mother in fighting against Harkiss." Hermione set the parchment down, "I'm going to give you the benefit of doubt Mr. Rae; and forgo the rest of your planned detentions for the week because I _do_ believe you have great potential." His eyes lit up, "However," her voice becoming steely, "if you _ever_ have a problem in my class again, know that you will be spending an inordinate amount of time with Mr. Filch after you explain to the Headmistress how you fell astray in a subject she has the deepest respect for."

Slowly, reverently, Neal nodded. "I…thank you, Professor."

"I'll see you Wednesday Mr. Rae, good night."

"Night, Professor." He replied, voice holding a strangely crisp tone as he turned and grabbed his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder. He opened the door, pausing, head looking back over his shoulder as his professor stood up, words of gratitude remaining unspoken on his lips upon seeing her unguarded expression and blatant fatigue. And he chose to move on, deciding it was better to show her he understood and without another look back, he quietly stepped from the room.

* * *

Oxox

* * *

Minerva fought off a third yawn and while she wanted to spend more time with her family and more importantly Helena; but she just didn't have it in her. Slowly she began to state her farewells, starting with Audrey, John and Percival; followed by Milan, then Tessa, Katherine and Callum, along with Jordan, Mathew and the children, and ending with Harold and Helena who had joined her in the den.

"Will you have time for lunch tomorrow?" Helena asked as she pulled away from Minerva.

"I know you're busy," Minerva softly dodged, "you don't have to…"

"But I do," Helena interjected, "as _you_ are my dearest and oldest friend; and everything, and I do mean everything is and always has been secondary." She fought against the tears pressing against her eyes, "So, I _will_ be joining you for lunch unless you have other plans."

Emerald eyes flashed and met unyielding blue ones until she found herself acquiescing to Helena's comment. "I…lunch sounds about right."

Harold lifted his hand and with a wave a flurry of floo powder jumped into the grate, "Go home before you fall asleep on your feet, Minerva. We'll stay for a bit longer until everyone goes home, and I'll see you…later." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, voice becoming gravely, "So don't do anything abnormally foolish."

She returned the gesture along with a warm hug, "As always, I leave the foolishness to you," she replied and with a final squeeze of his arm she stepped forward and Helena embraced her again.

"Till tomorrow." Helena whispered through her tears.

"Tomorrow." Minerva affirmed as she tightened her arms around Helena, relishing the unconditional warmth and love which she returned in equal measure.

Helena didn't bother hiding her tears as she stepped back, "Get some rest."

"You too." Minerva replied with a tender smile to both Helena and Harold before stepping through the green flames and emerging in her office. She waited the heartbeat she knew it would take Elgin or Tily to arrive; trying not to banish the soot herself. It didn't matter how much time had passed, or how much time would pass; she knew she would never again be comfortable with the way the soot felt against her skin. There were just too many memories intertwined with it.

Feeling Hogwarts magic swirl within her, she felt the soot vanish from her clothes as Tily arrived beside her. "Bonnie sent word that breakfast shall be ready at 6:30. Will you require anything else this evening?"

"A pot of chamomile tea," she thumbed through the never-ending correspondence, stopping at the familiar, albeit rare script. She turned to the vast gallery, "Has Griphook attempted to contact me this week?"

Dozens of no's descended from portraits causing her lips to pull into a frown as she withdrew the letter. A sculpted nail slit the seal, and at seeing the blurry words her hand automatically went to her shoulder out of a multi-decade habit and a groan of frustration resonated from her mouth at yet again another aspect of her life that was not as it used to be. Her fingers dropped to her pocket along her hip, and at once removed her glasses. With a shake of her hand, she donned them; the words instantly snapping into focus.

_Minerva,_

_ Last week's news brings forth joyful tidings. Know you and yours have my most heartfelt congratulations. With recent events in relation to changes of wills; do you wish any addendums to be added? If there are no significant alterations, it can be sent by ancillary means; if there are, you shall have to bring forth the documents._

_ Send word via owl as I am not within Gringotts and shall have to make arrangements either way._

_ Griphook_

She re-read the last line a second time, eyes lifting to Fortescue. "Has something occurred regarding Griphook?"

"He has not been at Gringotts for the last twelve days; though officially he has been dealing with Gringotts holdings externally."

"Do you know if something happened to his family?"

"Little is known about him personally, but the epidemic continues to plague even Gringotts as almost twenty percent of their workforce has been striken by it."

"Is Griphook well?"

"I have no knowledge that he is not."

"Please see if you can ascertain any more information pertaining to Griphook."

"I will, but you know that Gringotts and the portraits within are as loyal to their Administrator as the portraits that reside within this gallery."

"True," Minerva replied, "but it is rare that one Administrator calls upon the other; and with our history it should make determining his condition easier."

Fortescue frowned, "I doubt your history with Griphook shall make it easier."

"Ahhh," Minerva's brow quirked, "you mustn't be so glum Florean and in this instance trust me. There is reason as to why he personally handles my financial affairs."

Several eyes dropped to Albus' portrait to seek additional information, but his portrait continued to remain as it had for the past day – vacant.

Fortescue audibly grumbled and then strode from his portrait to see what he could ascertain regarding Griphook.

Godric waited a heartbeat as Minerva flung the parchment into the flames, "Hermione asked to be informed when you returned."

"I…" she reached up and withdrew her glasses as she let her gaze travel to the Founder's portrait, her internal struggle regarding what to do about Hermione was in direct conflict with not only what she wanted but also sorely needed. And still, she found herself doing what she felt she should do, even though it was crushing her heart. "Let her know that I have returned but am going straight to bed."

"Her intent was to come upon your arrival."

"And by the time she arrives, I shall be fast asleep."

"I shall deliver your message." Godric relayed as he shimmered and vanished.

"Were there any additional reports that need to be conveyed before tomorrow morning?"

"Only that Filius wishes to speak with you before you leave in the morning." Rowena stated and with a nod Minerva turned and with a grimace began ascending the stairs; thoughts on when she'd have time to see Hermione tomorrow. _Perhaps she'll have time during her break tomorrow,_ Minerva mused as she crested the stairs and felt a swell of magic once again coarse across her skin. Her eyes flashed to the coffee table, noting that a pot of tea was already steeping as it waited for her; and before a frown at why Elgin or Tily was returning when Hermione appeared next to the chesterfield.

"I shall have to speak with my elves." Minerva remarked as she continued to walk into her living suite, though with a lighter footstep than she had had previously.

"Undoubtedly," Hermione replied, "but I only asked they bring me so I could bid you good night and see if you needed anything before you retired."

"I was going to have spot of tea," she motioned to the chesterfield, "if you'd like a cup, I'll have Tily bring another."

Hermione covered her mouth as she yawned, "No thanks, as I'll be asleep soon myself."

Minerva sat down, moving forward as she poured a cup of tea for herself; "I heard that Mr. Rae created a bit of havoc within your class today to the tune of forty points."

"He seemed to believe that scaring a classmate while in the middle of the practical aspect of transfiguration was permissible."

"And after detention this evening?"

Hermione tipped her head, a mix of wonder and amusement lacing brown orbs, "Is there truly anything you don't know in regards to the comings and goings of Hogwarts?"

"A fair amount, however, Mr. Rae's deeds and your response to them have rippled through the portraits and amongst both the professors and students alike."

Hermione's back straightened, doubt suddenly settling over her thoughts that perhaps she had been too strict. "Do you think I was out of line?"

"Quite the contrary," Minerva replied, "nor do your peers believe so. You are aware that transfiguration is not a discipline that can be practiced lightly as there are far too many occurrences for something to go amiss. Hence when I was teaching, I kept a tight rein upon my students and classroom; and was pleasantly surprised to hear you doing the same."

"He has a natural aptitude for transfiguration and hope that he continues in the field."

"I'm sure he will, unless he opts to follow his skill in Potions which is almost as refined. Clemons speaks equally as high of him."

"Perhaps Marx can mentor him the next few years, as he and I'm sure others who reside in Slytherin are struggling with their House's identity."

"I don't think Marx will be the person who will become his mentor."

Hermione's features morphed, "Then who would you suggest?" And at seeing the answer cross Minerva's face she began shaking her head, "No, I'm not a mentor. I'm…just a professor and come from Gryffindor; surely he will not seek someone out who wasn't a member of his own house."

Minerva lowered her cup from her lips, eyes piercing Hermione's as she softly commented. "You are so much more than 'just' a professor who was from Gryffindor, Hermione. And before you contradict and begin with the 'golden trio'; know that I have never once called you or the others part of the golden trio. Nor would I. But just as you and everyone else held Albus and myself in such high regards; you and Harry are beginning to take the mantle where Albus and I once stood."

"But I'm just…me." Hermione breathed, eyes having latched onto emerald ones as she felt the last vestiges of her perceived youth slip away.

A sad flicker passed over green eyes, "Yes, you are just you. Hermione Jean Granger."

Realization sparked in brown eyes at what Minerva was insinuating. "In another few years, I won't even be remembered as I am, will I?"

"You'll be known for your deeds past and defined by your current occupation whether you remain as a professor at Hogwarts or return to the Ministry after this year. You are already known as part of the golden trio, one of the defeaters of Voldemort and as you age your friends become fewer and developing new friendships who wish to know you as Hermione versus what everyone believes you to be, becomes even harder."

"The Headmistress, Order of Merlin, Master of Transfiguration – when all you want is be Minerva."

"Cherish your friends Hermione, for they will always remember you as the person you are and not the icon you are becoming."

"I don't _want_ to be an icon."

"Nor did I seek to become one, however, life is filled with ironies."

Hermione shifted against the cushions, "When you graduated from Hogwarts, what had you foreseen yourself doing?"

"The lot of us had planned on taking on various apprenticeships, but the war had intensified during our seventh year and Helena chose to conduct her initial phase of her apprenticeship in France; Digs and Philip opted to follow suit; Lizza, Melinda, William and I were going to continue with our plans on apprenticeship until the year's end. The incident at my home in conjunction with Dig's death barely three months after he had shipped out; caused each of us to re-evaluate our choices."

"But before the war." Hermione countered.

"I suppose…" a look of long forgotten dreams passed over emerald eyes, "there was a time I thought of playing quidditch professionally."

A smile fluttered over full lips, "Do you think you'd have been any good?"

"I do, but I became a far better transfiguration mistress than I'd ever have become as a chaser." She set her empty cup down, "And before Albus' death, what of you?" She thought back, trying to recall what Hermione had said during her fifth year career planning session, "Did you still see yourself joining the Wizengamut?"

"Rather of seeking an apprenticeship in Transfiguration." Hermione honestly relayed, seeing the shock of her statement reflected in Minerva's face.

"Why didn't you?" Minerva's question barely flittering between them.

"Voldemort had been defeated, Hogwart's needed rebuilt, and before I knew it I had joined the Ministry and was engaged. Before I knew what happened, it seemed as if the world had swept me away and when I blinked; I had a one year old child, was working on research through a job that I could let be secondary to family life, and was in a relationship that in hindsight had long since been over. However, I didn't know how to step out of the rut that had become my life."

Minerva edged closer. "If you decide to pursue a Mastership, know that you'll do wonders for the field, my dear."

"Kane said that you had asked him to teach me if you were unavailable."

"I had," Minerva admitted, "and would still recommend him to do so."

"And if I had come to you after Voldemort's defeat; would you have taken me on as an apprentice then?"

Minerva paused as she pondered the question, "I don't know." Her brogue having thickened, "However, I do know if I had, you'd have been the only person I'd have considered to take on as an apprentice."

"And now?" Hermione breathlessly asked.

"I'm dying," Minerva quietly countered.

"And if you weren't?"

"I believe I would." Minerva's voice could barely be construed a whisper.

"A part of me would love to have been your apprentice, to have been taught by you; but," she reached out, her fingers taking and beginning to trace Minerva's, "a far larger part would now seek out a different transfiguration Master to learn from because the last thing I would want to do is for you to see me as anything other than an equal."

"At this point, I'd have a hard time seeing you as anything but an equal." Slowly, almost reverently Minerva lifted her hand and placed a chaste kiss upon the side of Hermione's forefinger before removing her hand from beneath Hermione's as she stood. Her lilt seeping through her soft spoken contralto, "Good night, my dear."

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

Hazily George felt Rory's arm pull him backwards, involuntarily groaning as warm legs nestled against his while Rory's broad chest pressed into his back. "Feels…nice," he heard himself murmur, eyes already closing in contentment.

"Aye," Rory replied as he kissed George's shoulder, "feels like home."

"Mmmhhhmmm." George partially agreed, hand draping backwards to bring Rory's legs closer to his own.

"Ya know, I dunna intend ta ever let ya go." Rory breathed as his right hand splayed downwards, his heal gently pressing against the apex of George's shaft as his lips began nipping at the soft skin of his lover's neck. George's hips innately pushed forward as his head shifted granting Rory greater access to his neck while a low moan eschewed from swollen lips. And Rory rolled his bottom lips across his teeth, feeling his own body responding to the heady man within his arms whose reaction to his touch made his length harden even more. Slowly he pressed backwards against George's pubic bone causing him to rub against his length while his lips began tracing the shell of an ear.

"I want ya, George." Rory's breathy voice rasped as his fingers curved around George and the younger wizard moaned as his eyes blurrily blinked open.

"R…ory…"

"Aye," he murmured, as his teeth tugged his lover's ear lobe, "I luv."

"Merlin…mmmhhmmm…" George's head tipped back as Rory continued his ministrations, his body in the blissful medium of sleep and pleasure; as he responded solely on instinct. His body too far gone to be able to process any higher reasoning or thoughts as his lover's name spilled from his lips like a prayer.

* * *

Xoxo

* * *

_a/n: Sighs, another day gone by. So many details elaborated on and still it seems as though the surface has barely been scratched. For those faithful readers who continue to trudge down this road, my deepest thanks – and as always, I hope you enjoyed!_


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